There has been so much to organise in the last week that my brain is almost cooked. Even if a lot of it isn’t directly down to me to get right, I’ve been working close to double-time just to stay on track. Katie has been, frankly, incredible. I’ve always known that she’s more competent than she gives herself credit for, but she appears to be stepping into my shoes with ease.

We’ve put in a good few hours together, mostly just to allow me to show her some of the things I do that she has never had to deal with. There’s nothing difficult, just a lot of boss-type administration that I’m responsible for on a regular basis. Normally, if I go away for a week or whatever, I make sure all this stuff is either already done or not needed until I return. Now I’m going to be away long enough for it to matter.

Two half-day sessions with Derek leave him somewhat reassured that I’ll have enough time to spare if he needs my input. He makes sure that I’m up-to-date with all the changes they are going to implement and we spend a couple of hours with the rest of my team going through the additional support requirements. I have a good team and I’m confident they can handle it in my absence. Even with the preparation, it doesn’t strike me that they will be ready to deploy until I get back anyway.

Rushing a short-term work permit and visa through the Kenyan High Commission is apparently not as difficult as I thought it might be. It’s just a case of sending some photographs and filling in a seemingly endless number of forms.

Private health-care is part of our employment package, so I can get quick access to information about what I need to keep safe. Even being nominally above the altitude where malaria is an issue, we decide that I need to take a prophylactic, mostly in case I travel about the country in any free time I might have. Apart from that, it’s copious quantities of sun-block and the usual upset-stomach remedies.

Amanda tried to explain my accommodation arrangements, but I’m still not sure that I understand how the whole thing works. Everything seems to be so, well, foreign.

“It’s a big city and it is growing quickly,” she tells me. “Get on Google and look at the maps. Our offices are in the business district, the centre of the older part of the city. We’ve a large part of a new building. The traffic is diabolical and living anywhere near the offices would be either stupidly expensive or cramped in the extreme.”

“So, I have to commute?” I ask. “What’s that mean? Bus?”

“We thought about it, but our local team suggests that it is just not practical or safe enough. Most busses are privately-run minibuses – the locals call them Matutus – but they’re crowded and always driving too fast. We have had to make special arrangements.”

“What, just for me?”

“Not quite. You’re needed, but not quite to that degree. There are a handful of other foreign staff members doing much the same as you are going to do, but for different departments. Mostly from our London office, but a couple of them are from the States and Europe. We’ve arranged for all of you to have apartments in the same complex and have our own vehicles and drivers for you all to share.”

“Well, I don’t drive, so I have little choice. It seems a bit extravagant, though.”

“Well, don’t forget the cost-of-living differences. Nairobi is expensive, but more for the visitors than the locals. There’s a full staff, not just drivers.”

“I’m not sure I can be comfortable with that,” I tell her honestly. “Servants seems just a little too colonial for my tastes.”

“It is just something you will have to get used to, I’m afraid. Having domestic staff is more or less expected for everyone who considers themselves even moderately middle-class. How much you have them do for you is, of course, your business. Just remember that they are there to help, are being well-paid and are staff, not slaves. You can think about it as staying in a private hotel if that helps.”

“Anything else I need to know?” I ask wearily. It’s been a long day and I’m beginning to feel ready for home.

“Only that I need to remind you to be careful. Having a driver will help a lot. Don’t insist on going anywhere that he thinks isn’t safe. He will obviously know the city better than you do. Don’t go out alone, particularly at night and don’t flaunt anything expensive.”

“Are you actively trying to convince me to stay at home?” I ask with a grin.

“No, but I have to tell you the truth. You will be fine, but you need to be more aware of your surroundings than you would just about anywhere in the British Isles or even the rest of the western world.”

Packing has proven to be a nightmare. I’m sure that it’s considerably easier for some of my colleagues. Travelling from the rest of the UK means a drive to the airport or a trip on the train. For me it means a flight on a smaller plane with tighter weight restrictions.

I’m trying my best to limit myself to a single large suitcase and then a reasonable carry-on. It’s difficult, but I’m just going to have to accept that I will be going shopping soon after I arrive. That’s probably for the best, as most of my day-to-day clothing is a bit too heavy for the expected climate. Daytime temperatures in the high twenties are not what I’m used to in any way.

Of course, the company have paid for a business-class ticket, but this doesn’t really mean anything until I get to London for the main flight and to do that I’m travelling via Manchester because we couldn’t get a seat on the direct to Heathrow flight. It’s an airport I’ve been through quite a few times, but this will be my first time passing through Heathrow. It does make me glad I’ve decided to only bring one bag, though.

I didn’t really want to have an overnight stay in either airport, however, so my main flight is an overnight one. It does mean arriving in Nairobi before sunrise, but I should be able to sleep on the plane.

That all currently seems to be dependent on the actual getting off the island. I’m sitting in departures at Ronaldsway and right now, I can barely see the runway across the airfield. The fog’s not so thick that you’d get lost, but it certainly is causing some serious problems for the airlines.

My flight to Manchester is currently listed as delayed for more than an hour. That is still just about do-able, providing we don’t get any further set-backs and I can get through security quickly in Manchester. I can’t do much about it in any case. All I can do is sit and wait to see the plane arrive on its inbound journey. The sky does look brighter than when I got here, so maybe there’s a chance.

I’ve seen a couple of people I know waiting for flights, but nobody who I know well enough to strike up a conversation with. I’ve got my laptop, though, to keep my mind occupied while I wait. I’s light and portable, but plenty for some light coding or surfing the web.

Erik has sent me some audio files for the game and I’m trying to see if they fit with particular levels. Everything looks very positive so far, but I have a few ideas for pacing and looping behaviours that I’ll need to speak to him about when I make it to my destination. I hope our internet connection will be reasonable, as I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself if I can’t stream.

With my earphones in, I can’t hear any announcements, but I’m trying my best to look up often and catch that the flight from Manchester is landing. Sure enough, a glance out of the window shows a plane pulling up to the ramp. The departures screen also updates to show we are leaving in ten minutes. Time to put the laptop to sleep and get ready to move, I think. It looks like the crew are doing as fast a turnaround as possible and we’ll be probably boarding as soon as all of the arriving passengers are off the plane.

Our little island airport is, apart from the officious security, a pretty relaxed experience if you can avoid a delay. Manchester on the other hand is bustling and hectic to the point of distraction. My connecting flight to London is actually from the same terminal, but not with the same airline and there are an anxious few minutes while I wait for my luggage and then have to go out into arrivals, upstairs and back into departures.

What had originally been a comfortable transfer was now a last-minute one. Luckily, the desk was still open, but I could tell that they were getting ready to close when I dashed into the hall.

“I’m sorry,” I tell the girl at the check-in. “Isle of Man flight delayed by some fog. I’m not too late, am I?”

“Well, I was about to close, but that makes you right on time. Mister?” She holds out her hand for my passport.

“Kneen, Will Kneen.”

It takes us only a couple of minutes to go through the usual check-in routine. My bag isn’t too heavy – well, I would never have made it this far if it was – and my booking is, of course, in order. My luck must be changing, because I find the line for security to be a short one and I’m back in the airside part of the terminal with a minimum of fuss.

I’ve always found this dance between airports and terminals makes the time pass really quickly. The two short flights to get to Heathrow, probably little more than an hour in total between them, have made much of the day pass me by already.

Landing at Heathrow, it seems like I still have barely enough time to make my way across the airport to Terminal five and get checked in one more time. This time, security is much slower – I am in one of the busiest airports in the world, after all – and by the time I make it to the business lounge, I’ve little more than an hour to wait before boarding is due to be called.