My first time at the Pigeon and, as advised, a damn good place to watch the sunset in comfort, cold Ndovu in hand. There was a lot of haze around so the sunset itself was quite gloomy, a dim orange fuzzball disappearing behind Capri Point (where all the rich people live, – a non-interrupted view of the sun sinking into the lake must be one of the perks), – but I didn’t mind because I had a wonderful view over the town from my perch. As I watched dark descend (and it happens as fast as a curtain closing in this part of Africa) I had a ringside seat, a privileged position from which to drink in (as well as my beer) the end of day routines in our dusty town. The kites circled, a couple of young ones coming so close they could have been considering my bar-stool as a roost for the night. The evening call to prayer came first from the mosque near the Maasai market, followed over the next 30 minutes or so by various others around town (I’m at home now and have just heard our local). I had a brief chat with Mohamed and his five-year-old daughter at the next table; he mentioned he was Muslim and I queried his beer, – he answered that God would probably ask him why he was drinking alcohol and wondered if it worried me. We agreed with smiles that it wasn’t a problem for either of us. A brief and enjoyable break in my own routine, – I have decided to return, – same time tomorrow, and each evening for the rest of the week.