Mosquito River, just outside Lake Manyara National Park, should win an award for the’ least-appealing-village-name-ever’. Fortunately, there weren’t too many mossies in sight when we visited the village on our second morning of safari. We took the tour both to give us an insight into village life and to support the community, as the tour fee is used to provide education, clean water on tap and health facilities.

Freddie, our guide and massive Manchester United fan, took us through the rice fields and up to the homes of the villagers. As we passed the mud huts, kids ran out shouting “mzungu” and raced to stroke our white skin and hold our hands. One little girl took both mine and Dave’s hand and started swinging between us. It was so lovely to see their big smiles, enthusiasm and amusement. We were given the opportunity to watch the wood carvers, immigrants from Mozambique during the civil war, crafting their wares, and of course there was a chance for us to make a purchase. I succumbed and bought a pair of figures carrying their luggage as they reminded me of Dave and I on our travels. Hopefully they are on their way home to the UK right now, but the rigmarole of posting them is another story.

We passed one lady outside her home holding a baby and she asked if I would hold the baby. I don’t know whether white people are seen as some good luck charm or if some other strange beliefs were at play but I clarified it wasn’t a ploy to extort money out of me before agreeing to hold the child — ever the cynic! Anyway, he (Emmanuel) was very cute and unfazed by the whole thing.

Another group of kids ran to meet us and giggled as we took pictures of them. They were highly amused (bemused?) when Dave showed them the pictures on the camera screen as they huddled around him. We let some of them take pictures of us. The results were definitely better than my first ever photo — I chopped my mum’s head off. We have had some of the photos printed to send to the kids; something for them to keep.

Next we went to visit the doctor at the health centre. He was an interesting man, somewhat of an oversized guy, he had studied in Leeds and loved Europe. He had a large poster of Switzerland on his wall and told us that he thought it was better to have positive and relaxing pictures on the wall, rather than medical leaflets or images of sick people. I rather agree. After signing his visitors’ book (a popular phenomenon over here) we promised to send more posters of Europe. Our last stop was to sample the home-made banana beer. It’s as thick as a milkshake, lumpy and not really to my taste. I’m sticking to the local Tusker beer for now.

Following our visit, we hopped back into the Landcruiser and drove through the Ngorongoro National Park and into the amazing Serengeti, the ‘land without end’ according to the Maasai tribesmen. We pitched our tents right in the centre of the Serengeti at a public campsite without fences. This makes for a rather nerve-wracking night, when there’s plenty of mysterious sounds and only 3mm of canvas between you and the wilderness. It turns out that during the night, we did have lions very close by.

The campsite of course didn’t have showers, but after our incredibly dusty day I really did want to have a wash to feel clean and comfortable. Our cook took pity on me, heated up a big bucket full of water on her stove and cut a water bottle in half, so that I was able to stand in the showerless bathroom (typical Africa) and pour water over my head. For that, I was very grateful!

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