"Every time you get off the plane it's like a slap in the face. It's the same when you come back."

Those were the words of the Swiss guy who took me to get take-away food on the back of his motorbike last night. How long is it going to be before I get to write another sentence like that? It turns out the Kokomlemle Guest House is actually about 5 minutes away from a really good restaurant, which makes me laugh, because when the boy was here we spent many evenings wandering around this area trying to find somewhere to eat. Still, the ridiculously spicey kebabs were probably more economical, though thanks to my appetite going AWOL when I got back to my room, I have the rest of my beef and fried rice for lunch.

Yes, I know, I know. That mings.

Well, it's been a while since I last updated. "I'm also ill and not feeling like getting buses" was rather prophetic. Immediately after the internet cafe that day I went back to Julia and Benoit's and started running a temperature of 39C and simultaneously shivering, which turned out to be malaria, so I spent most of last week lying in an extremely green room with a quinine drip in my arm, reading all my books and using up my last walkman batteries. However I have now had another blood test and I am all clean - hurrah!

So, on Friday, I left to find the nuns. They weren't expecting me. I think they were slightly baffled, but they were very nice to me, and gave me toast and marmalade for breakfast, and the parents will be happy. Their church has links with the church in Bolgatanga so I was sent as a sort of ambassador with strict instructions not to make snide comments about 'charity with strings attached' or 'the opium of the poor' and suchlike. I was very well-behaved, and they were all lovely and though I couldn't see much (weekends are not good times to visit schools) I still had a lovely day touring the region getting sunburnt on the back of a moped and saw lots of photos of people doing worthwhile things. Incidentally, one worthwhile thing was distributing lots of old Central High uniforms to local kids when we changed from brown to purple, so I saw all these pictures of people wearing my old gym kit - so surreal. Also, I stayed with some Canadian students, who were from the same town in Ontario where we went on a Pongos tour in 99. The world feels very small. The Canadians were also lovely, and told me that as alcohol was an antiseptic, 50% proof vodka would actually help to get rid of the parasites that were in my liver. I'm not convinced this was a good idea. I felt very sick.

Yesterday I came back to Accra. The driver was the only person in Ghana with a sense of urgency, and I was SCARED! Everyone I met at the hotel said, "You came from Bolga today?" with varying degrees of incredulity. I ended up paying loads more for my room cos the single room I reserved in December had been given to someone else. Turning up as a woman on your own at 9.30 at night is a sure way of getting a room, but does not put you in a good position to argue a cheap deal. And the restaurant was closed, so I had to go off with the Swiss guy. The room is cavernous though. I am currently sorting through my stuff. Even binning all the clothes and shower gel, I have too much.

Will save this and post it tomorrow when I am in Oxford. Weird thought.

I don't want to go home. Please don't make me go home. I want to stay here.