I lie awake in the Lamu bed; outside in the darkness, the coastal night orchestra is in full swing. The cricket string quartet is competing with the monkey chorus to drown out the clashing cymbals of the night birds and the blaring bush baby horn ensemble.
A mosquito’s high-pitch hum searches for an entry through my net and onto my sunburned skin. I feel lulled by the unfiltered sounds of nature.
Flashback to Nairobi and it’s late afternoon on Wednesday. I am in a taxi, sitting in traffic. As I stare at the sheets of rain coursing down my window, I think how much nicer it would be to spend a healthy three-day weekend by the coast, instead of a Saturday evening straining to hear what people are trying to say over the grating beats of whatever passes for electronic music these days. Before I know it, my finger is…
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