June 21st, Thursday
Quite light heartedly Pink and I set forth to see the Wrefords after tea today. What a journey, to me it was a nightmare! We skidded and bumped and slid and dived and finally stuck. We met the Leonards who had been spending the day there followed by the Wrefords who were seeing them over the river so we waited, left our car, and W took us up in his. We dined and afterwards he came along to see us over the river. This we managed but of course stuck again going up the hill. However with pushing she did it. What amazes me is how those four (farmers) can stick that road and do nothing to it. Personally I wouldn’t rest until I’d put in a decent bridge and a passable approach.

June 22nd
Pink went off to a meeting soon after breakfast intending to be back before dark. He did not return. We waited up till 12 keeping food warm and having cocoa ourselves and then went to bed. (His “courtesy” car had to be abandoned).

June 26th
Much distressed for Noots, whose second attempt at incubating (chickens) is again a failure. So disheartening.

June 27th
Pink rode over to WS this morning to borrow a car (theirs currently being mended). He felt he must get into Kitale to see off the crowd of fellows who leave today for Home. Something is the matter with Critcher as he’s never been near us and is actually leaving the country without saying goodbye!

June 29th, Friday
Pink has returned and regaled us with an amusing account of it all. Bennett and Critcher went from Kitale, the rest drove into 64, but many saw them off. We are distressed and amazed at Critcher who has left the country not only without saying goodbye but not even written a line, truly there is something in this land which affects people’s brains. Young Boales apparently is making a first class ass of himself. The Bank and Store have stopped credit and he hasn’t a bean yet at 64 he put a case of fizz into the departing carriage!

June 30th, Saturday
Last night we went dancing and as our car is still in the garage we went in another hireling (the other still sits by the wayside). An assortment of weird yahoos were present, the most spectacular being “the Etruscan” dressed in a toga, a woman dressed in turquoise with a face like a horse, and another with a huge proboscis dropping to meet a formidable array of teeth set in a rabbit’s jaw. Mrs Wreford was there with Las and really her pluck beats all. They had difficulty in starting at all, his oil gauge being out of order, then his batteries were almost nil and he had to drive like Jehu to keep his light burning at all and halfway the hood collapsed on their heads. They stuck badly in the drift, smashed the radiator cap in the bushes and got pulled out, stuck again, and found the petrol wasn’t working so eventually Wreford cam down himself and fetched her home. Is it worth it?