Hospitals, shops, con-artists and coffee in Nairobbery

Me, at the base of the conference centre

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Our last day in Kenya was a bit of an unusual mix of experiences. We spent the morning travelling with Jean to different maternity hospitals, to help Aaron make a choice for his forthcoming placement, which he plans to do in Nairobi. As we drove from place to place, seeing the cross-section of Nairobi's citizens en route, the stark contrasts became apparent; the beautiful suburban Westlands region where we stayed was incomparable to the Kibera slum - a massive area of tin houses, often with no windows, certainly no water and rarely electricity, which houses tens of thousands of the poorer residents.

The hospitals were all quite clean and seemed to function well, but all had the tell-tale signs of ageing - faded signs, uneven floors, dirty toilets. As we waited to speak to heads of departments, or sat in clinic waiting rooms, curious eyes would inspect the three Westerners, during our (often considerable) waits.

Possibly Mt Kenya poking throught the clouds. But, I can't be sure!

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Aaron and I spent an afternoon exploring the town centre. As two totally conspicuous tourists, walking around with our backpacks, Lonely Planet in hand, we were fully on guard for all kinds of trouble. But, apart from a young boy who followed us for bloomin' ages, a man who seemed set on selling us a mobile phone contract out of a cardboard box, and a man who 'had been searching for me all day, because he knew how generous Englishmen are...and he needed money to pay for a ticket to his family in Mombasa', we were pretty much left alone. Our secret tip is to spot that glint in the con-man's eye. As soon as you see the glint, make it perfectly clear how disinterested you are. Or just run and scream. That'd probably work too.

After lunch, we visited the Nairobi Conference Centre, a tall tower in the middle of town, with stunning views, when the weather allows it. Today, the weather didn't allow us to see Mount Kenya, or Kilimanjaro, or in fact very much at all outside of the city boundary. But for 200 shillings per student (£1.70), it was worth a visit to the helipad right at the top, and a sneak-preview of the one-day-to-reopen revolving restaurant, just below. We visited during the YWCA conference, and felt privilieged as just about the only people in the building to possess Y chromosomes.

After a walk around the Uhuru Park, not known for its safety after dark, and a stroll past parliament, we grabbed a coffee at Java, Kenya's answer to Starbucks, and headed to Nairobi's only synagogue, for Friday night services. The small but lively community keep a beautiful synagogue open not far from the centre - but that's all I'm willing to post on the internet!

Back at Jean and Vivian's, we had dinner and prepared our bags for the long flight home, the next morning. We finally headed to bed after midnight, which, by Kenyan standards, is extremely late indeed.

The following morning, we were back on a plane to Schipol - flying with Kenyan Airways (who, surprisingly, gave me the nicest flying experience of my life - I'd recommend them to anyone!), we flew over the massive continent, looking out for Mount Kenya from the window, and watching the landscape change between the lush green of Kenya to the flat yellow of Sahara, to the Mediterranean and onwards.

The last two weeks have been a real eye opener. Each day has been totally different to the last, and every experience a memory in itself.

Central Kenya is not a place for a relaxing holiday. But, if you want to see a real Africa, and to challenge yourself, then this is certainly a place to consider.