Our (un)typical compatriot Cianni Pino is back on these pages. When he comes to Kenya, he often sends us a personal holiday diary written in his ‘Itaglish’, which, incredibly, the Kenyans understand better than we do.
Enjoy!

I had never been to Chenia during the rainy season.
I always come after Christmas because flights are cheaper. Then I come again in August when flights are more expensive, but after six months I get a case of Africa sickness worse than gastritis.
Even in Chenia, there are no longer any mid-seasons, but I don't know if the African rainy season has a mid-season or a whole season. But I think it's fifty-fifty, because these rains never came and it was so hot that when I took off my T-shirt and put it on the chair, it continued to sweat.
Luckily, Watamu has air conditioning, even if the bill is higher than Maiemi's.
Anyway, it's here now, so let's see if it's full or partial. 
Unfortunately, almost all my friends have left, especially those who hang out at the bar in town, and in the evening you can't go out because the bars have closed for fear of rain. So, since you can't go out in Paparemo, you go to Kalamari or Caruasch to find a girlfriend for a few days, at least until the next time you can go out.
At first I was a bit sad and thought I'd leave too and go back to Caserta, where spring is coming and I can eat buffalo mozzarella, because here they don't even have cow mozzarella, which tastes like garbage.
But then I looked around and there were lots of girls and I looked at them as if to say, ‘I stayed here for you,’ and they looked at me as if they had ‘end of season’ written on their foreheads and called me ‘Cianni, Cianni cam ier!’.
Not only the girls cam ier, everything costs a fortune when it rains!
I mean, you buy a cabbage and that girl comes with you, but even with 200 shillings you can buy a fish, with 300 shillings you can buy a chicken, with 400 shillings you can buy a live turkey and he comes with you too, but then you feel sorry for killing him and you keep him in the house and you have to feed him and he shits everywhere.
Because when it rains, you have to stay indoors, at least without air conditioning.
So what do you do indoors, apart from breathing in the smell of cabbage that your new girlfriend is cooking?
You can watch television, but you don't understand a damn thing because out of 600 channels, only one is in Italian, Rai, which only broadcasts quiz shows, news programmes and Un posto al sole (A Place in the Sun), while I'm in a place in the rain. They don't even have football matches anymore, at least there's not much to understand there. 
On the other hand, when it rains hard, the signal goes to hell and you can't see anything.
Then, before the signal comes back, my stupid girlfriend arrives and wants to watch films in English, which I don't understand at all, so I get bored and start touching her, and she says, ‘Not now, I'm watching a film,’ and I think that tomorrow I'll go and find another one with ‘camera’ written on her forehead, but instead of a dick, I'll buy her some Afro shrimp and Sidiaci. Or I'll find one who's visually impaired, so she won't watch the films and we'll go on a safari.
Meanwhile, here in Watamu, it's the off-season and I'm a bit bored, so I look at Facebook on my mobile phone. I have lots of friends from Chenia, one is called Frittomisto, another Postepei and one Bellaciao.
Lots of people write to us on their pages. 
There's an Italian who says something stupid and I tell him he's stupid and he insults me and I say, ‘If that makes you happy, good for you,’ and he says, ‘Good for you,’ so I change the page because in the end we called each other good. 
So, as the film ends, I relax, breathe some fresh air, stroke the turkey that has curled up on the sofa, promise it that I won't leave it alone with my girlfriend and tell it not to worry, that Christmas is still a long way off.
(to be continued next time)