I have a great view of the grey tarmac and overcast sky from my seat on the turboprop. Taking off, above the clouds, it’s a hot, sunny day.

Nairobi has hit rainy season and drops to a frosty 17 Celsuius overnight. Naturally, I’m taking a trip to the local island paradise on the coast, Lamu. I’m also leaving Kenya very soon — I’ve luckily escaped the dreary days right as they come.

Similarly, for three years now, I haven’t lived in Canada for the cold months of January to April. First I was in Florida, paddleboading on salty waterways by the sea. Then I was in Singapore, packed into hawker centres like a sweaty sardine. Now I’ve been in Kenya, baking on the dry, dusty roads.

But as someone without any local family or friends, these could have easily become cold places.

My travelling companions and I had heroes who wouldn’t let this happen and went the extra mile. They brought home grown coconuts to open on the pavement at work and took us on overnight walks through the neighbourhoods of Miami. We got driven to countryside caves and shown the hottest food joints, from spicy crabs to ice cream bowls. We got tours of their classrooms and were brought into the liveliest school events I’ve ever been to.

My new friends shared their country and home with me, as well as their love and pride for every part of it. It’s a rare privilege that not many people offer and I’ve been stunned every time. Through my companions, I’ve experienced and learned more than I ever could have hoped.

I’m not a good enough writer to show my appreciation, so I’ll keep it short.

Endless gratitude to the Ash-s, Jorge-s, Faif-s, Stephanie-s, Benji-s, Alfaj-s, Daisy-s, Pichy-s, Grace-s, William-s, Sophia-s, Michelle-s out there. And everyone I’ve forgetten to list but are just as amazing. You’re all welcome whenever you’d like — I’ll be there.