Very rarely am I able in London to sit around for hours on end reading a book or just lying in bed staring at the fan above me spinning, praying with every of its revolutions that it won’t fall, leading to my definite demise, but thankfully I survived, as my current scribing would indicate. My accommodation had no Internet, and most of the time spent in my bedroom was filled with futile efforts at killing the mosquitoes that would most definitely pounce once I have drifted into the land of dreams.

The serenity of the sea juxtaposed with the hustle and bustle of those scraping to make a living in the inner city. It was a balance that brought a sense awe and tranquillity inside me that I knew was simply not attainable back home. What I have found on my travels is that whichever country I find myself in, despite how much I might look like the locals, despite the fact that I haven’t yet opened my mouth, and despite my best efforts to dress like them, alarm bells start to ring in their heads, and even the people just selling illegal DVDs feel their sixth senses elbowing them in the ribs. They adjust their posture and make their opening statement in their best English accent: “Where are you from? You want DVD? I give good price.”

As a child coming here, I used to hate the afternoon naps that everyone seemed to take. I appeared to myself to be the only sane person in the house who came on holiday and wanted to actually utilise the sunlight hours. I would pace up and down the corridors whilst even the cockroaches took a break from their infesting, waiting for my parents to stir so they could give me the attention I so dearly craved. Youth is a marvellous thing; supplies of energy appear to be never ending and sleep is nothing but a nemesis. Just a few years later, it comes to the afternoon naps and whilst my family are still eating their lunch I excuse myself early so I can maximise my napping time. Not only am I the first one to sleep, but also I am the last one to rise. Like an unexpected twist in a comic book, my arch nemesis has suddenly become my greatest ally. I have enjoyed sleep’s company on the floor of a coach in Iraq, on the floor waiting for an underground train at Westminster station, on the floor at several airports even on the floor outdoors in central London for one insanely cold night. I find myself in my dear friend’s company increasingly as I age, and although as I child I feared for such a day; I find nowadays that I enjoy nothing more than sitting around all day reading books, thinking about life and sleeping. Activities, which as a child I considered ‘boring.’

Never do I find sleep so appealing, nor have I slept so light yet dreamed so vividly than when I find myself in Mombasa…

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