I left Lake Navaisha after a few days. I had a marvellous time, but it was time to move on. I had organised a home stay in the Mara via e mail. I caught an early matatu to Narok, a kind of nothing much town. The drive there was about two hours and not at all interesting, except that they tried to charge me mzungu prices for the trip!! I just pretended to get mad, packed up my luggage and pretend to walk away. Quickly the price went down by 200 shilling. I had no idea what to expect but tried not to have a pre -conceived idea of what would be at the end stop. I was told to ask the driver to drop me off two kilometers before the Sekenani Gates of the National park in the Mara.  Just before I reached there, it started to rain, or pour rather. The heavens opened up and it all came down in one go. The bus driver unceremoniously dumped me on the side of the road. But through the hazy, wet mist i could see a figure coming, wrapped in bright orange and red, with a hot pink umbrella. Meet James, the pastor,  in whose  little compound I will be staying. The mud was amazing. I had great difficulties staying upright. But before long we were at James ‘house and welcomed with hot coffee by his wonderful wife, Caroline. After the introductions and coffee , I was showing the little manyatta where i was to stay for the next four weeks. A manyatta is a traditional mud hut, made from sticks and covered with cow dung, sand and straw. By the time the meal came i was exhausted and had an early night.  The next morning all was forgotten, the sun was up and the views were amazing. On one side are the mountains, on the other the gentle rolling hills of the Rift Valley. Stunningly beautiful in the morning sun. The landscape is dotted with figures clad in red or orange, the traditional shuka (blankets) of the Maasai. There is a reason of course for this colour. It makes the people stand out in all the wonderful, different shades of green of the landscape. It also deters the wild animals, I was told