Sunshine, and we're still complaining . . . sort of

So we found our sunshine -- and not just a bit, but buckets of it. We landed yesterday in Lamu, Kenya, a largely Muslim island community on the Indian Ocean. It is a spectacular place. The town itself is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and with good reason. Its streets are narrow labyrinthes that wind between multi-storey stone and concrete buildings. Walking through them can be hazardous because donkeys -- the primary form of cargo transport, apart from the human back -- often come barrelling through.

The advantage of the backstreets, though, is that they are largely shaded from the sun, which is as intense at 8 in the morning as the noon-day sun in Ontario on a hot August day. There is no air conditioning here, although the architecture provides plenty of shaded spaces and paths for the breeze to blow. It is still insanely hot, though, although given where we've come from it would be churlish to complain.

We landed last night and immediately went to our hotel, which is a lovely pair of converted Swahili houses. It has a large ground-level courtyard with a covered eating area, and we managed to scam our way into the suite, which is three storeys up and looks directly onto the water. It is a huge room with a four-poster bed, giant stone bath and exterior patio and sunning area. It is about a perfect a honeymoon spot as I could ever have imagined. After showering -- two straight days of airplanes and waiting lounges left a lot to scrub off -- we fell asleep at about 4 p.m., and didn't wake again until 4:30 a.m., when the Islamic calls to prayer started echoing through the streets and the roosters started crowing. As the sun started coming up, I went for a walk around town, which was remarkably busy for that time of day. Fishermen were preparing their dhows for their day on the water as the tide was coming in. Others engaged in the imports trade were unloading stacks of coconut leaves and mangrove branches used for house construction here. A shingle of leaves all sewn together sells for 15 shillings -- or about 25 cents. Given how much everything costs here (hotels, food and water are at least as expensive as North America from our experience here thus far) I can't figure out how anyone makes a living here. But they seem to, and smiling faces are absolutely everywhere. I'ved learned a quick "jambo" (I believe it means hello, but whatever it does elicits a smile) seems to work magic.

It's festival day here in Lamu -- we saw a cross-country race this morning, followed by a donkey race. This afternoon we'll head out onto the water to watch a dhow race. I'm filling up my memory cards at a crazy pace. It's just so exotic and beautiful here. I told Mo this morning that if we left today, I'd still feel like we had an incredible honeymoon. And this is all just the beginning.