It’s just me. I’ve made the move from Italy to Tanzania, Zanzibar. Somehow, exhausted and satisfied, I managed to finish the summer season in Italy. I’ve put my cameras back onto the shelves. I’ve delivered my last wedding photos, edited the last reels for Lake Garda Weddings (my wedding planning company) and dragged my bags across the north of Italy to Milan airport.

I usually just drive and dump my car at the airport, but this time, I have no idea how long I’m staying. So, I took my huge suitcases and dragged them on and off trains until my arms hurt. Italian trains aren’t the best, although they are cheap, very cheap and very overcrowded. At one point, on my second train, I noticed a puddle of something around my suitcase that I’d had to leave by the door due to there being no room further down the carriage. At first, I put it down to the rain that lashed in through the doors at every station, but then I noticed the froth that joined the puddle. After noticing someone slip, I stood around my case and warned every single person passing by that it was slippy. After leaving a stream of frothy, bubbly liquid behind me at Milan Malpensa train station, I managed to find a quiet spot and open it.

Wow, my spray-on coconut suntan cream had leaked all over my bag, leaving my entire selection of clothing covered in white, creamy, smelly lotion. I didn’t have time to check out everything, so I threw out the nasty little bottle, wrapped the bag in plastic, and sent it off to Zanzibar via Addis Ababa airport.

Why would I ruin the environment with this plastic cover? Over the years, I’ve had so many items stolen from my case during the four-hour layover in Ethiopia that I don’t trust them with any of my valuables. When you are in a country like Zanzibar, everything is valuable. Even shampoo, pasta sauce, notebooks, flip flops, and especially charging cables – sought-after items that I really don’t want to have to go and find in one of the many tiny little stalls that line the roads in my village. So, imagine my shock when my suitcase arrived totally plastic-free but with a strong smell of coconut. Another rummage around the suitcase revealed that nothing seemed to have been taken; I guess the plastic just fell off with the leaked oil. 

I was surprised by the usually unbearably slow process of luggage collection and scanning, visa applications, and passport control, which took no more than a few minutes. I left the airport and began my winter life in Zanzibar.

So, here I am; it’s 6 a.m., and I can see the sun rising from my window. I can’t hear the usual morning waves as it’s low tide, and I am about to finish this blog and start on my sixth book. That’s a bit of a lie. I started it this summer in Italy, but between weddings, life in general, and promos on social media, I seemed to have put 150 pages of pure bla bla bla on a document. There are a few great stories here and there, but also a lot of waffle. I’ve been looking through it, trying to filter out the random descriptions and dialogue, and pretty much started from scratch.

My book, which still has no name, is about a safari—not just any safari, a safari with a difference. I still don’t have a name for the book, but I have booked myself on a safari in South Africa with two friends. I’ve done a few over the years, but not since I started writing. This time, I think it will be a whole different experience for me, trying to not just observe the safari but feel it, too.

So, thank you to all my followers, those who like my posts despite recent issues with video embedding and who inspire me to keep posting.

Happy blogging, Gwen.