When I leave my house and climb right, westward, up, I reach the highest point after 40 m, our shopping centre.

Photo: My Shopping Centre.

All four "everything else" shops carry the same assortment for the same prices. When something is out of stock they point at their neighbours. The selling job in the shops is usually done by boys between 10 and 15 (price list). At festive nights, the restaurant puts long tables on the square. Then, meat roasts at all sides on burning fires and the scene reminds of the final picture in an Asterix cartoon (apart from the musicians, they play and do not hang upside down in the tree). Recently the hill became one of the places where you would never want to live: a video TV tent was launched, advertizing itself with heavy loudspeakers outside on the roof, usually propagating gunfire sounds to attract our entire district to its no doubt interesting shows. I have been told a taped Kiswahili voice plays simultaneously over the English movies, suggesting to carry a translation, but in fact freely improvising a story of its own to accompany the images and gunfire. A great idea rendering at least some interest and creativity to the affair..

Photo: view west from my shopping centre: Lake Victoria harbour shore with transhipment platform with double roof
recently built by Japanese (labour: Japanese only), and Mwanza fish harbour district.

Photo: the cleaning of the path to the house is quite effective!

The steepness of the 50% slope of this dangerously stone-trenched mud road does not appear from the picture, but is a defyance for my motorcycle, both up and down, and the devastating finale of my "Big Isamilo" jogging track (elevation profile, satellite view), where, on the steepest 20 meters, shown on the foreground, running up degenerates to just walking in skating posture with bent knees and big steps, reducing average speed on the entire slope to just over 8 km per hour even on good days.

[Related: Finding a house, Isamilo Life, Mwanza from above]