It is weird when it rains in Diani. It is confusing. It’s an oddity. An oxymoron of sorts. Diani should be sunny and bright and hot. Nobody should ever have to wear something warm in Diani. A rainy Diani is like a crying clown. But when I was down there last week it rained a lot. The sky was constantly wet and gloomy.
I called up an old friend who had moved down there; uprooted his life from Nairobi and packed it in. Started a new life with his dog. If it sounds romantic it’s because it is. It’s also scary.
