Steve, who commented on my last blog, reminded me that I did not explain the removal of my previous posts from London. I have not found England easy to return to; the first weeks in which I revelled in the ease with which things can be done soon gave way to despair that life is colourless and provincial. Gone is the drama of a trip to the shops and gone the afternoons swimming in open warm seas and the heavy heat that allows, or insists on, long naps. Life in London is stressful, busy, rushed, but flat.

My last posts were becoming moans. I did not want to write a blog that bemoaned my easy life, and so I decided to delete the last posts. But things are becoming a bit easier, I suppose, and I am going to Lagos in a couple of weeks for some work, so I imagine I will start posting again soon enough.

In any case, it seems that from all the comments I have had from people who have left west Africa and now read my blog, it has got inside them like it has got inside me. I can't explain it, and don't need to, just that I will be happy to go back.