Storm clouds gather in paradise

I lie in bed all day, feeling sorry for myself; imprisoned in a mosquito net, escaping once an hour to visit the pit toilet which has become my second home. My last meal was twenty four hours ago. I won't be eating anything like that again.

Matthew is irritable. The heat is too much for him and he's got impetigo, a skin infection which is furiously itchy. He's hungry too. The food is not to his liking so he's lived on bread and water for the past two days. Probably just as well given my condition.

Cameron is upset at his brother. He won't play nicely with him and has given him impetigo. He resists my every attempt to tend his red and blistering sores. I must force the treatment upon him to prevent it getting much worse. Neither of us like that.

Kirstie is feeling very alone. She's in isolation, avoiding all the rest of us for fear she catches something we cannot treat because of her pregnancy. The heat is draining her energy and her belly will not fit in the only pair of trousers she has left. Although she cannot come near us, she worries about us. There's nothing else to do.

After six and a half months on the road, for the first time I really miss home and wonder whether we should cut this whole crazy venture short and head home where we can lie in our own beds, eat food we know and trust, have a nice hot shower, catch up with all our friends, and live like a normal family.