Flat top, release Iris and farewells.

1. Seeing Table Mountain. It’s such an iconic image of the city. The other place I’ve seen it is in engravings illustrating books about early explorers.

2. Iris chasing a singer round the restaurant. Poor man. He thought he was on to a good thing. Get the big table going and the entire restaurant will follow, he must have thought. ‘Come on then, what will it take to get the big table dancing?’ he asked. So we released Iris. She chased him round the restaurant, in and out of the tables, cackling wildly. At first the other tables tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, but gradually, people got into it and soon everyone was dancing.

3. It’s time for goodbyes. I like the way people suddenly open up and tell you all sorts of things. I like all the promises to stay in touch that may or may not be kept.

Cape Town, South Africa

Crossing, drink and go go go.

1. Seeing elephants swimming across the river.

2. Free bars on boats.

3. Watching Iris terrorising young men from outside our group. Iris is 68 and says she is growing old disreputably and that ‘It’s all talk, darling.’ She is fitter than the rest of us and has about twice as much energy and when she is not appreciating beautiful men she bounces around or races up and down hills, making me feel positively matronly.

Livingstone, Zambia

Talking, colour, spices and appreciation

1. Ali T’s funny English. T stands for ‘tour guide’. He collects cockney rhyming slang from his groups and from the BBC World Service. He shared a few choice Zanzibar phrases including ‘cahmfortahble tahmes’, which is what the sultan of Zanzibar was hoping for when he visited his wives.

2. Anatto pods. Anatto is a red colouring. The seeds are juicy so you can squash them in your fingers producing a red goo that Ali T claims ‘Mijulie’ uses on her lips. I tried it and was swiftly told by Rose that the colour was unsuitable. This didn’t stop her from smearing it on her face and hands.

3. When mace -- the seaweedy membrane that surrounds a nutmeg -- is fresh it is a deep crimson. We saw two tiny little girls picking up windfalls in a nutmeg grove.

4. We lunched at the house of Ali T’s boss: his wife served us pilau beef and custard apple and lemon juice. Craig said of this last: ‘I wanted to put my face in it.’ Later in the bar he said chivalrously: ‘I’ve never seen so many beautiful women sitting round a table. Couldn’t have done better if I’d picked them myself.’

Stone Town to Nungwi Beach, Zanzibar

Green things, turkey cock and selfless.

1. The flower market in Columbia Road -- it's solid with people, and the stallholders shouting out 'Lovely sunflowers' and 'Five for a tenner' and 'Wholesale prices to the public' and 'I'm selling all these at a loss. Got to sell them today -- I'm going on my holidays tomorrow.'

2. The thought that the males of our species do not have wobbly wrinkled things on their heads like turkeys. However, turkeys do have strange square feathers that change colour in the sunlight. We saw the turkey cock at Hackney City Farm, which is free and well worth a visit. There were also enormous pigs hoping we would scratch their backs.

3. Postman's Park -- it's next to the old national Post Office, so it would once have been full of off-duty posties enjoying the greenery. It's also home to a set of ceramic plaques commemorating acts of selfless and hopeless bravery.

Bags, wilderness and barman.

1. The shopping in Mystic is great. We stand with our noses against the window of a closed craft shop. The owner hurries up, clutching her coffee. 'Just a moment ladies, I'll open up for you.' She says: 'In the cafe they said: "You have customers waiting," but I had to get my coffee first.' Later we discover a needlepoint shop. We are bowled over by the range of handpainted canvases, and chat to the owner, who has found her passion in life and made a trade of it.

2. A public loo in Newport with a jungle painted on the walls.

3. The restaurant where we have lunch is short staffed, so a pretty barman with an astonishing gravelly voice serves us.

Suitcase, old boy network and patterns.

1. Bad news -- I broke my suitcase moments after leaving the flat. Good news -- finding a luggage shop minutes before it closed.

2. Seeing an old school friend again after about six years. His choirboy voice has roughened and deepened and he has picked up a really cute posh end of London accent from somewhere.

3. Beautiful chunky sweater men running along beaches in Katie's knitting pattern books.