My siblings had failed to swap me for the healthier looking baby at the hospital, or maybe they had as I grew up to be six foot two and they were, well, let’s say I was head and possibly shoulders taller. They were safely at school in England and as I had previously said, my father was left to defend himself from the predatory women in Dodoma while my mother and I set forth.
We took the train to Dar es Salaam, then the M.V. Inchanga, a cargo
ship, along the coast stopping at Tanga and Mombasa before
crossing the Indian Ocean to Colombo, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). We visited Kandy (where the giant Buddhas are), I was a much smaller version. From Colombo, we travelled on to Madras (now Chennai) and then by train to Bangalore. Later, we visited Ooty where my mother bought a bicycle to ride about town with the baby in tow.