Eleanor was still not feeling great and wanted to get back to Khartoum. I went along to see if there was any room on my bus only to discover that my bus had been cancelled. Our alternative was to take one of the many local buses up to El Obied, a taxi across town, and hopefully find seats on an express service to Khartoum from there.

The potential pain and uncertainty of this prompted me to check-out the chance of getting a UN flight from El Obied (bookings are supposed to be three days in advance but, well, if the plane is going anyway… it would be a shame to waste it). I rang the UN-WFP radio room. It would be no trouble at all. There were definitely seats. All we had to do was follow-up with the normal booking "paperwork" as soon as possible, by email.

Well, more easily said than done. I rang the guy at Sudatel. Their internet was still down, but if it was urgent I should go to the UNDP office; they would be sure to help. I called Adam. He came racing to the rescue on his motorbike and whisked me off to a compound on the edge of town. The caretaker was just about to take a shower but willingly, I would even say eagerly, put his trousers back on and led me into the office. Wait here. "Oh no," I had done enough waiting for one day. Within a minute he had fired up the compound's generator, the PC and the air-conditioning.