Day 4: Breakfast

This morning the old man left my breakfast out a bit later than usual (8 instead of 7.45) and this was it: at first I thought it was an omelette, but I noticed the bread in the centre of the ring of egg. Very nice all the same. As I finished this one, he brought out a second. I had a lovely cup of African tea (without ginger), and, thankfully, no green soup*. Perfect!

The old man then (kindly) brought my (newly polished) shoes to me, and the boy called me a moto, on which I travelled to work. Woosh.

Before I left, they convinced me to let them wash my shirt (by hand). I said I would take it to a launderette but it got to the point where it would have been rude for me to say 'no' any more times.

*Yesterday I was brought three omlettes, followed by the same green soup we'd had for dinner the night before. I'm becoming less sure about this aperitif sauce.