Chapter 1Egypt was hot, a hellhole, hotter even than German East Africa, and I’d always said if I never set foot on Egyptian soil again in my life, it would be too soon.
So why was I back in Africa? Because someone asked me.
I sat at the bar in the Hotel Duke of York, a seedy establishment in a seedier side of Nairobi, although it hadn’t always been so. I drew a lungful of smoke from the cigarette that dangled from my mouth, choked—I’d never been much of a smoker—stubbed out the cigarette, and reached for my pint.
The last time I’d been there, ten years before, Charlie Pearson, the man I’d loved with every fibre of my being had been with me. We’d just arrived on Lake Tanganyika from the tiny village of Udjidji—things had happened on that journey, not the least of which was we’d gotten m
