Today's activity of choice was donkey walking. The weather has become unseasonably cloudy, windy and drizzly, though still fairly warm at half tree hollow. Donkey walking is over at blue hill, in the central, higher altitude part of the island. It's about a 15 minute drive (or would be if it wasn't for a 20 minute diversion to scoot round a road closure due to road repairs.) the change to the landscape and the climate in that 15 minutes is staggering and a bit surreal. It's like starting off in southern Spain, dust, cactus and dry grass, on a slightly overcast day, and within minutes finding yourself in the welsh hills, shrouded in mist, the wind blowing a hooley, and the icy rain lashing your face and soaking you through. It really has to be seen to be believed! There are a few subtle differences that provide clues that you are somewhere more exotic than Wales. Instead of cow parsley, the grand white trumpet heads of arum lillies grow in clumps along the roadside, and instead of buttercups, the banks are smothered in yellow and gold nasturtiums.white and blue Alliums also grow here like weeds.

Battered by the wind and rain, we felt quite at home as we met with the small group of donkey walkers. Jodie was one of the initiators of the project, she works for the St Helena national trust, replanting and protecting indigenous species. She was one of a group of people who recognised that previously working donkeys were left in a field and pretty much abandoned. They now have a plush new shelter, build by Basil Reid, the construction company working on the airport. They are also cared for by a team of volunteers, and walked down the road twice a week for exercise, and to protect their hooves from rotting in the damp field.

There were about 12 donkeys, and around 15 of us, so we pretty much had a donkey each to walk. Phoebe had a lovely natured donkey, Sugar, who stayed close to her baby, Basil. lottie and I had a slow old girl called Greedy. She did like to grab mouthfuls of the grassy bank whenever she could. Martin ended up with Dickie. A frisky boy who took Martin for a walk. The sight of a slightly alarmed martin gripping on to the dickies rein as he stubbornly refused to be led and bounded out in front. Hilarious. We have some great photos, I will download them soon.

Among our party of walkers was Dave Marr, a Yorkshireman who has been on the island for 10 years but has lost nothing of his accent. There were also some saint families including 3 children from phoebe's year. In conversation with one of the girls, Dana, I found that her mum lives in England with her little sister. I asked where abouts, but she doesn't know. I asked if her mum was over there to work, and she told me her mum is over there because she has got married. Dana was with her cousin, Renee, I didn't dare ask any more questions, about who she lives with etc, I felt like I was prying, Dana was very matter of fact about it all though. This is a very normal set up for Saint children.

Gaynor, our welsh friend from the boat was with us. "i feel right at home, i do!" was her comment as we were battered by the wind and soaked by the rain. It was a moment of hilarity. The madness of it all. Travel 4,000 miles to a tropical island, go donkey walking in the rain. Probably the best fun I've had since we arrived.