Perhaps my morning walks up Tabor Hill might not always be the sanctuary I’ve become used to. Yesterday morning I bumped into two men who turned out to be students at Awassa College. Despite the friendly introductions I could feel a barely hidden Christian agenda. Sure enough, the gentle probing about my beliefs started. At home, I would usually cut and run, but here fleeing seemed particularly rude, so I lingered. My confession to being a non-believer was met with obvious concern and quotations of King Solomon and other biblical references. Just as I was in danger of becoming interested in a passionate debate about religion, the friendly student finally understood he wasn’t going to convert any heathens that day. I was particularly struck by his plea for me to choose God so when I go home I could spread the message. Does he think everyone in the UK is pagan? If I do end up working at Awassa College I’ll probably bump into him as he is a chemistry student. I thought us physicists were supposed to be the weird ones?!

Today I decided to get up at 4.50am to go for a run. Yes, that's early but I wanted to watch sunrise from Tabor Hill and have a run without hassle. Sunrise is at 6.45am so I thought there would be some twilight to run by for a while before then. The streets at 5.15am are deserted and walking is difficult, never mind running, because of the complete lack of street lighting. I managed to avoid falling into ditches and scrambled up Tabor Hill. Even at 5.40am there is absolutely no hint of dawn. Sitting on the top of a hill in T-shirt and shorts gazing up at the stars was something I had hoped to do in Africa, but not this morning. Eventually the first sign of brightening on the horizon appeared, followed soon after by a couple of Ethiopian runners. Complete night-time to actual sunrise takes only 40 mins and is truly beautiful.

The afternoon was spent at Gill’s college observing her deliver her first session as a HDL. The session was very good and I felt envious of her doing something constructive. Debriefing took place over mango juice at Pinna Café, which is fast becoming my regular haunt. I think the staff must assume I’m some rich Ferenji on holiday as I’m there every day.