We landed at Manda island opposite the town and the short boat trip gave a wonderful, spreading panorama of Lamu's 19^th century waterfront. I had decided to stay at the Pole Pole Guest House as it had been recommended warmly by every traveller who had been to Lamu. So I set my mind on avoiding the hordes of guesthouse touts waiting on the pier. But the first one who approached me was actually from Pole Pole and he promptly whisked me there.

The guesthouse was very nice. Rooms that were spotlessly clean and a very friendly staff and very cheap, only £3 for a double room. The roof of the house, on the 4th floor, had a veranda with tremendous views. On one side I could see the waterfront and dhows sailing in the Manda Channel and on the other there was the maze of narrow streets and some beautiful houses completely covered with beautiful red bougainvillaea.

It was very fascinating to stroll through the town, a very similar experience to the Stone Town in Zanzibar. The streets were very narrow, only a few feet wide, and it was nice not having to worry about motor vehicles. There were few monuments but hundreds of ancient houses, some dating as far back as the 14th century, arresting street scenes and cool corners to sit and rest. In contrast to Malindi and Mombasa it was perfectly safe and it was nice to be able to stroll without having to worry about muggings.

People were not on the Zanzibarian level of friendliness but still very friendly. Again my palm hat became of point of great interest and many smiles. The Islamic presence was felt very strongly with the men in the typical caps and women covered in black veils. Like Zanzibar there was also an enormous number of cats. Lamu was also a donkey sanctuary and I have never seen so many donkeys anywhere else. I had dinner with the two Swedes, Lars and Fredrik, who had arrived from Malindi in the evening after a long and gruelling bus journey.

Whereas the town was quite interesting Lamu's main attraction was the Shela beach and I planned to go there the next day, which was Sunday. You could take a boat to get there but I decided to walk. It was a one-hour's walk, first along Lamu's seafront and a brand new hospital. It was a gift from Saudi Arabia and had very nice architecture. Because of the high tide I had then to detour inland and walk among sand dunes. It was blazing hot and tough going in the soft sand. The trail led me down to the sea again and I had a refreshing papaya juice at a small restaurant by the sea. In the shade under a tarpaulin I could count to no less than 26 sleeping cats!

I walked for another 15 minutes and took a new rest at Peponi's Hotel. It was one of the two existing first class hotels and they were the only oases for beer. Another 15 minutes and I came to the end of the Manda Channel and the beginning of Shela beach.

The beach was the real thing. A deserted seven miles sickle of white sand, splashed by bath-warm sea and backed by empty dunes I half expected Robinson Crusoe to come striding out of the heat haze. As it was unprotected by a reef there was quite a surf and bodysurfing would be one of my major activities.

The other was reading "The Lunatic Express" which was very fascinating. Although there were quite a lot of Westerners, the beach was big enough to give me private space and I also enjoyed the total lack of beach vendors who had been very plentiful at Malindi. The beach was also evidently off limits to the native population. The explanation I heard was that the scantily clad Western women would corrupt the strict Islamic morals. Some obviously did not adhere to the Islamic code of conduct as two armed policemen were patrolling the beach because of frequent thefts from tourists.

As I walked along the beach I bumped in to Erick and Ingrid from the "Turkana Bus" six weeks earlier. Immediately after the trip Ingrid had come down with hepatitis. The only cure is rest and they had spent four weeks at a beach house near Mombasa. She was still quite weak, especially in the evenings. Hepatitis is very contagious and I feared I might catch it, as I would spend a lot of time with them. But I never got sick, as I was probably immune.

There was no protection from the sun and the strong and refreshing wind was deceptive. I got very red and decided to go back to the town. It was now low tide and I could follow the shore all the way to Lamu. When I arrived I was very tired and I retreated to the roof of the guesthouse where I after a shower relaxed reading the book and drinking tea.

At 7 p.m. I met Erick at the Coral Rock restaurant. Ingrid was not feeling too well and had to rest. We had a delicious lobster and talked about Erick's travels in South America which were very interesting to hear. South America might very well be my next goal if it were not for the extremely bad security situation in particularly Colombia and Peru.

Erick told me that he had been robbed three times and every traveller he had met was also robbed. To make it worse many of the robberies were violent and quite a few tourists had been killed.

Our conversation drifted into the subject of Americans and it turned out that Erick was virulently anti-American, more so than myself. I can at least concede that there are at least some broadminded Americans too. He said that in Paris, when Americans asked him about an address, he would always send them away in the opposite direction, which I thought was rather silly! After dinner we went to Petley's Inn, the other oasis for beer. We only had two beers because I was rather tired and Erick wanted to return to Ingrid.

The next morning I went to the bank and I was frustrated by the slow service. It took over an hour to cash a traveller's cheque and I had to ask the clerk if it was an Indian bank. I then went and bought an airline ticket to Mombasa. It cost a rather hefty £35 but it would save me one day of travelling. I booked it for the coming Saturday and as this was Monday I had a whole week to relax at Lamu.

After having bought some fruit and a pair of shorts I took a motor boat to Shela beach. I did the usual activities, or rather non-activities, like reading my book, sleeping in the sun and, of course, swimming in the lovely sea. After a while Erick and Ingrid turned up. They asked me if I wanted to join them on a dhow trip tomorrow. They would visit some old Swahili ruins called Takwa at the nearby Manda Island. I was not too keen on the rickety dhows but I guessed they were safe enough and it would be a diversion from lying on the beach.

At 4 p.m. we had enough of sun and we took a dhow back to Lamu town. The apparent simplicity of sailing the boat impressed me. The single lateen sail could be set in virtually any position and never seemed to obstruct the view.

However, when the course was changed and the sail switched into the opposite position the small boat tipped over rather too much for comfort and I did not like being only a few inches from the water. But once the wind picked up the sail it would balance straight and I could enjoy the sailing again. I was also amazed how fast the boat sailed whenever there was any wind.

I repeated my habit of relaxing on the guest house roof and then at seven p.m. I met Erick now at the Equator restaurant. Ingrid was again tired and conveyed her apologies through Erick. I had shrimps with sweet and sour pineapple sauce and it was very delicious. The bill was reasonable too, £1.50.

Our topic of conversation tonight was the situation in Africa, a rather depressing subject, I admit. Whereas one could see glimmers of hope in Asia, Africa's development went from bad to worse. One reason we believed was the corrupt regimes that were in power in just about every country in Africa. We could not name one country where there is a semblance of democracy.

To keep in power they rely on the military force and I had read that in the whole of Africa there are eight soldiers to every doctor. Erick told me that the small country of Niger one of the poorest in the world had bought ten tanks from France recently and for that money they could have equipped 5,000 classrooms.

After having exhausted this gloomy subject we went to Petley's Inn for a beer. But to our amazement the beer had run out although it was only 9 o'clock. So all there was to do was to return to our guesthouses.

The dhow picked us up at 8 a.m. the following morning. The Captain was named Ahmed and was of a jolly nature. He was helped by his two sons who were less jolly. We crossed the Manda Channel and it took some time since there was very little wind. We entered a long creek thick with mangroves and it was a rather serene pleasure to slowly drift pass the trees with their weird roots and listen to the squeaks and splashes from the birds living among them.

Just as we arrived to the ruins there was a heavy downpour and we considered ourselves very lucky. The ruins were not that spectacular. They were very derelict now but we could gather that the town had been quite big in its heyday during the 15th century. We asked why it was deserted and the guess was that the fresh water supply had been depleted and the people had moved to Lamu.

Ahmed then sailed us straight across the channel to Shela and put us off at Peponi's. From the sea there was a lovely view of the Shela village with its houses draped in bougainvillaea.

I asked Ahmed what he really thought about tourism, if it was not destroying their traditional way of life. He said that most tourists respected their culture and without them there would not be an existence for many of them. Lamu's main problem he said was the large migration from the mainland. Too many people moved here in search of the tourist dollar and housing and other facilities were very strained.

The afternoon followed the now firmly established routines. Swimming at the beach, getting back to Lamu, showering, relaxing on the roof of the guesthouse and then meeting Erick at 7 pm.

This evening we went to the Olympic restaurant and to get a break from the seafood I had some chicken. I also ordered two pancakes for the starving cats we were surrounded by. Ingrid had high fever and was unable to join us.

We had a serious conversation tonight too, about What To Do With Our Lives. I told Erick about my possible Botswana engagement and I asked him if it was not difficult to be travelling for such a long time and not having a fixed point. But he said he could spend only a couple of months in Europe and then he had to move on.

There were still many places to discover, and I agreed. His next plan was to import some cars from France to West Africa. It was very profitable and for the money he could keep on travelling for a while. We then went to Petley's Inn and fortunately they had beer tonight. We had two beers and then we went home to sleep.

I guess you now can guess what I did the following day! At the beach I met Lars and Fredrik and I spent a few hours with them. My tan was now as you can imagine getting very deep and I could stay in the sun without problem. I went back to Pole Pole a bit earlier as it started to rain. I was taken to Lamu by Ahmed who in vain tried to win me over for another dhow trip.

I met Erick at the Coral Rock at seven p.m. Ingrid had been sick all day which was why I did not see them at the beach. We had fish for dinner and our conversation was about that eternal subject - women! As usual we stopped by at Petley's Inn and had a few beers.

The next day was spent exactly the same as the days before. While my description is getting rather boring I was not bored at all at the time. It was very nice to relax at the beach and today I had the company of Erick and Ingrid, who was feeling much better. I was glad that I was visiting Lamu at the end of my holiday. Had it been at the beginning I would perhaps have stayed longer and maybe I would not have seen so many other places.

In the evening Ingrid joined us for dinner. We had now settled for Coral Rock, which had very good food and a nice atmosphere. The beers had run out at Petley's Inn and instead we went for a walk around town. It was a warm night and it was very pleasant to walk in the dark alleys where Swahili music was flowing out from the houses. My palm hat was still very popular, drawing cheers from the people we passed.

The next day was Friday and my last full day at Lamu. At the breakfast on the roof I met a nice and sociable English girl, Lee, who was travelling on her own. She was a nurse and had just returned from work in Saudi Arabia. Like Ingrid she thought it was hell and she said they would not return even if she was paid a million pounds.

She joined me to Shela beach. I was quite attracted to her but as I was leaving Lamu tomorrow I tried to get any romantic ambitions out of my mind. And I thought that just because she was friendly it did not necessarily mean she had any romantic ambitions either.

I will never find out if she had, but ordinary friendship is not too bad either. Lee could only stay for a few hours as she had no tan at all and she was getting red like a lobster. However she would join me for my farewell dinner with Erick and Ingrid.

I walked back to the town along the shore. It was high tide and I had to wade in waist-deep water for quite a distance and the walk took much longer than usual. I had the company of Lee at the rooftop and at 7 p.m. we went to the Hapa Hapa (Here Here) restaurant at the waterfront to meet Erick and Ingrid.

At dinner I joined momentarily the Whining Tourist Brigade. Ingrid and Lee had ordered lobster but discovering that the menu included a seafood pizza, Erick and I ordered that instead. It was quite expensive, about £5, and we asked if the pizza was big and we were assured it was. But when it arrived it turned out that it was extremely small. There was some commotion when we said we would not pay the bill because it was much too expensive. There was a reasonable compromise. We only had to pay half the price and the rather embarrassed owner brought us extra bowls of chips and salad. I was a bit embarrassed too because in the end I could not eat up my pizza!

We then went to Petley's Inn for a beer and then wandered through the alleys for a while. I was a bit sad to say goodbye to Erick and Ingrid. We had become very good friends in the past week. I was thinking that I had met dozens of nice travellers over the years but I have only kept in touch with a handful. But I guess parting is an occupational hazard for a Traveller.

I had some tea with Lee up on the roof at Pole Pole and I was rather sad to say goodbye to her too. I imagined we could be very good friends but I had no option but to go back to Mombasa and then Nairobi.

The next morning I said farewell to the people at Pole Pole who had been very amiable. They would always ask me how I felt, if there was anything they could do for me etc. without any hidden hint of money. I appreciated that they changed the sheets every day.

I had one final walk around town with my camera. The people were very camera shy so instead I have a number of photos of donkeys and cats who were not!

The plane was due to leave at 10 a.m. but it was delayed for one hour. The travel agent who went with me said it always was. We were three passengers, an Englishman and an American. The flight was initially quite enjoyable. There were few clouds and there were stupendous views of waves breaking into the reef, and beautiful rivers and creeks.

The two African pilots were constantly chatting with one another. As we approached Mombasa there were a great number of air pockets and the plane started to shake like a leaf. The wind was very strong and it seemed as if the pilot had difficulty controlling the plane. His voice got very agitated. I could not understand what he said and it was just as well!

For some reason he interrupted his first attempt to land as if he could not find the runway and we had to fly a 15-minute circle of 360 degrees around Mombasa to make another attempt. The plane was rocking violently and I was now very scared as a crash seemed very imminent. The 30 seconds before we landed on the runway were the worst of my life as the pilot barely could hold the plane.

I was extremely happy to get out of the plane and I could add to my rather long list of horrible transports I have had. The pilot told us that the reason that he had interrupted the landing was that there was another plane coming in very close. He assured us that there really had not been any danger but I did not believe him.