Hot sunny days and blue skies plus the hospitality of the Makibi family during our two week stay in November, made a thoroughly wonderful holiday....

When we stepped off the little thirty-seater aeroplane at Maseru Airport, we were met by a beaming Stephen Makibi in Jacob's taxi, which only just managed to squeeze in our luggage. I smile when I think of Stephen's reply when I asked if I could open the window to cool down. A stop on the grass verge, and a search underneath the seats for the one and only handle which was shared between four windows. It gave my lady companion a taste of what was to come - that and the metal ridge she was sitting on in the back seat. Motorists drive vehicles until they fall apart - literally - because no one has any money for repairs. It is hard for us to comprehend the level of poverty in the country.

Everyone was waiting for us at the house in Ha Simone (treasured memories of our time when Barrie and I lived here) - all the Makibi family along with other people who live in the church houses. The lovely Rose, (their mother) Walter, Emily, Petros and Bernice . After much hugging and yelling and dancing round the yard, they showed us our new house, which would be our home for two weeks. They built it specially for us, but for any guests who stay there. The Chief's blessing arrived the next day. It is asignificant happening for two white ladies to be staying in a Basotho village.

The house is made of clay with a traditional tin roof and we had our own light! Yes, 'Datchworth Light'. In the form of electric wires strung across the yard, through the branches of a tree and hooked onto the corner of the roof. The one switch was in the big house, so Stephen and Rose had to remember to switch off our light, before they went to bed. As I wrote my diary each evening many varieties of creepy crawlies shared my page.

Unfortunately during this season of drought across Southern Africa, there was only a trickle of water from the borehole, but I am assured by Mike Fleet, our in-house engineer that it was attributed to rainfall rather than breakdown and will return when the heavier rains come. So we drank God's own rainwater from the barrel.

In between handing out presents, (from the meagre Swissair weight allowance), sharing news, walking down to the river to see how much 'my tree' had grown and inspecting the familiar dinosaur fossil footprints along the water's edge, we spent our first few happy days re-connecting with members of St John's, who were all thrilled that we had made the journey. Walter's new wife Juliet, with nine month old Retha, arrived from Bloemfontein, where they now live. It lovely to see them looking so happy as a family. Grandma Makibi was one of our visitors - she walked from her little house higher up the mountain. I last met her at Walter's wedding two years ago, when she came down to help to build the leqatha (meaning a house for newlyweds), which the ladies built in a week.

There are one or two more houses around the church now, though none seemed to have any furniture except ours. We were given beds, a settee, wardrobe, kitchen table and chairs (borrowed), a two ring gas stove and most fantastic of all - a whistling kettle. Rose knows how much I like my cups of tea! We even had a lock on the door. (yes, we had a door and a window - with curtains.)

Though facilities were basic, they had thought of everything to make us comfortable. In our kitchen the Datchworth Book - circa 2,000, was there to remind me how everything started. Thumbing through back copies of All Saints Parish Magazine, sitting at a little table, in a village 6,000 miles away, and the family reading about themselves, was quite unreal. Our very efficient Editor posts it to them every month. (Someone asked me if Richard was coming to Ha Simone..?)

Over the next two weeks, we ate together, sang together, danced and prayed together?.and the children in the yard followed us everywhere, learning the odd word of English. Services went on in the church every day and Frances and I shared in their Ladies Service - three hours long in Sesotho. Later on, we hired a car and drove up to the north of Lesotho, to see Muela Dam and the new Information Centre and to learn about the fully operational reservoir. Barrie was involved in the designing of the power house at Muela in 1997, situated in a cavern below the water line. They had  guide books, maps, videos and tourist information, local crafts to buy, but very few
tourists. It does need some promotion.

On our first Sunday, we were invited to St John's Festival in Peka, which looks over the Maluti mountains, where we witnessed their mass baptisms. The priests stand up to their waists in the water and baptise each member seven times, fully immersed. This is meant to cleanse and encourage spiritual rejuvenation, as they dedicate their lives to God. We were invited by the Archbishop to come to the front, where the waters drenched us and we saw hundreds of people pass through. Afterwards, the fifty-strong silver band, played the English National Anthem, (all four verses) specially for us, then with unbridled passion, they played 'The Lord is my Shepherd'. Much dancing and singing followed as they processed round the church, and a meal was prepared for us inside the Bishop's house. It was their way of saying thank you, so I am passing on my thanks to all those who have contributed to this project.

If I were to choose two of my favourite moments, one would be the sight of a lady sitting breast feeding her baby under the shade of my tree (that was why I planted it) next to St John's Church and the other would be meeting the children who have been able to go to school, through donations from our country.  Another school-to-school link is underway by a Primary School in Horley, Surrey and looks set to succeed.

If you have any contributions to offer in that direction, I would say to you that it doesn't cost a lot - and what you give, gives others so much. Please email me if you feel able to do something. Of course, there were many other 'magic moments', too many to mention. You'll just have to read the book.

We have moved from Kent to Bedfordshire, to be nearer to our granddaughter Abigail, who features most prominently in our lives. Our house is being adapted to accommodate her wheelchair when she is with us. We hope to see many of our old friends now that we are closer.

'Innocent in Africa' - now available in Large Print from any library. Audio Book available from RNIB and standard copies can be bought from any bookshop by order.