Well, here I am.  I have left Ireland after two weeks that seemed to fly by, and now I am in Kenya.  All so very different from Australia!  

Ireland was incredibly cold but also so good to spend time with family.  The first week of grey and brown and dull was hard to deal with especially as I was sick for the entire week!  Then on Sunday it snowed - about 6 - 8 inches and transformed into a winter wonderland.  We had an epic snowball fight after church, and it helped that I was beginning to feel better.

Dad was in Africa for the first week I was in Ireland, and in between a sore neck, flu symptoms from my yellow fever vaccine, followed by a cold which morphed into laryngitis, I still managed to go shopping with Mum, go out for drinks and live Irish music in Blessington and have chicken wings with PC.  Saturday was St Patrick’s Day, which we celebrated by watching Ireland thrash England in the final Six Nations game, coming out with both the Six Nations trophy and a Grand Slam!  Pretty cool afternoon.

I was planning on hiking that weekend, but  my energy levels were low, so Dad and I went for a drive on Saturday and spent the rest of the weekend eating.  Okay, fine, we spent most of the fortnight eating.  Aislinn was a great snuggle companion during my days in bed recovering! 

Week two, I felt a lot better.  Dad, Joe and I braved the Wicklow Gap on Monday in the snow - the road was clear - and got lots of photos (and Joe got drone footage) of the snow and a massive herd of around 50 deer near Turlough Hill.  Poor things, there can’t have been much to eat.

Wednesday was the last shopping day with Mum, getting final supplies for Africa and having fish and chips at Harry Ramsden’s for lunch.  Very nice indeed.  And of course a vanilla slice to bring home for afternoon tea.  On the subject of food, I ate a LOT of Irish sausages and bacon during my time at home!

Thursday, Dad and I went hiking.  We had been going to climb one of the Wicklow mountains but I was a bit put off by the volume of snow still remaining on the slopes.  We decided to go over the Sally Gap to Bray, and on the way we saw the Sugarloaf and decided we needed to climb it.  My still partially sick lungs struggled but we made it!  After that, we rested at the top with a creme egg - out of the crazily strong and Baltic wind - and then went to Bray and walked to Greystones.  Several kilometres, but I’ve no idea how many.  Once in Greystones, we got some really nice homemade icecream and then caught the Dart back to Bray.  

Friday announced my departure to Kenya, which was traumatic as usual.  Sitting down for the Last Breakfast of eggs, sausages and bacon, I had taken about three mouthfuls when I was told that there was a goat emergency - and rushed off to the barn.  Two tiny goat babies had arrived, and were very cold and weak.  Unfortunately despite everything we did, the weaker of the two passed away.  

I returned to the house... realising that my previously clean outfit was filthy from the barn!  I had to put it on a quick wash and then pack it wet.  Finishing off my re-heated breakfast, I completely forgot that I had had my first Malarone tablet in my pocket ready to take with breakfast... which was now in the washing machine... and wasn’t even remembered until hours later on the flight to Doha!  Hopefully it’s not the difference in whether or not I get malaria...!

I am writing this post in church during my second day in Kenya.  I am wearing ear plugs and can still loudly hear the preaching.  Church apparently started at 0700 - it is now 1130 - but we didn’t arrive until 0900.  I listened to my sister speak, which was really good, and wore earplugs diligently for the African singing before Sarah and I took the little children out to Sunday school.

Here, at church, they have the speakers turned up full volume so that not only is it incredibly loud but also distorted - and also the preachers shout and scream into the microphones and the music reverberates through you.  Sunday school was in a little shed behind the church, made of homemade clay bricks and a tin roof held on by concern-inducing planks of wood.  I didn’t die though.

The African children all seem to be dressed warmly, although in curiously mismatched second hand European clothes and shoes.  For instance, the little boy sitting directly in front of me was wearing sturdy blue shoes from Clark’s, and the little girl next to him a falling-apart and laceless pair of sparkly things which were thoroughly impractical for Africa.  The dresses the little girls wear have broken zippers and missing ribbons etc, but they all seem clean and well kept despite the lack of facilities to wash. 

I would presume that the majority of people here rely on Western donations of clothes - which they then purchase at a pittance in the markets.

Although we drove through slums in Kisumu on the way home from the airport, the area S&J live in may be poor but is not slummy.  Most of the people live in homemade red clay brick buildings with tin roofs, and have tiny fields surrounding with maize growing interspersed with beans.  One bean plant, one maize plant, and so on.  There are also fields of tea, and piles of clay bricks with kilns to cook them in.  The roads all the way from the city are of red clay and stone, but not paved.  It is all very green, because it is the rainy season. 

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of time in church.  They have had several praise and preaching sessions alternating, and I find it very hard to make out what they are saying - due to the volume and distortion - as the Africans themselves mostly speak very good English.

Sarah is sitting beside me cradling a chubby African baby who is asleep in her arms.  It is dressed in pink tights, a faded green skirt, a white vest and a blueish green rashie.  Interesting!

I do have lots of photographs, but they will need to be added when I get to Australia as internet here is limited.