From the dock at Mtangawanda (which has the only beach in the vicinity - watch out for sharks), a narrow footpath leads to Pate through thick bush; ask for the ndia ya Pate , the "path to Pate". Once on the trail it's easy to follow. You cross a broad, tidal "desert", pockmarked with fiddler crab holes, then climb a slight rise to drop through thicker bush, and arrive after an hour on the edge of town.

 

Despite its small size, you would hardly describe PATE as a village. Yet, reduced to the status of sub-location, its only link with government an assistant chief, its sole provision a primary school, the town is today a mere shadow of its former self. But at least its inhabitants are said to remain the richest on the island, thanks to their cash crop, tobacco , possibly introduced by the Portuguese and certainly grown here longer than anywhere else on the coast.

There's no electricity, no alcohol and obviously no cars. After Lamu it comes as a series of surprises. The town plan is pretty much the same - a maze of narrow streets and high-walled houses - but here the streets are made of earth, and the houses are built of coral and dried mud, unplastered and somehow forbidding. The overall layout is confusing, with little slope, as in Lamu, to help direction. Pateans do, in fact, refer to the "upper" and "lower" parts of town - Kitokwe and Mitaaguu respectively. The lower part is down near the town dock, which is only briefly underwater at high tide. There's a house which sometimes lets out rooms in this quarter: ask for the nyumba ya Abala Hassan or nyumba ya Abdullah (Abala Hassan's house, or Abdullah's house). There are no fixed prices (but it shouldn't be much over Ksh1000, including food), and Abdullah himself is very friendly and welcoming. The house is clean, has great views from the top rooms, and the food is filling. He can also arrange a guide for looking round the island.

If you arrive from Mtangawanda in the "upper" part of town - reputedly poorer and less friendly - you're likely to be struck immediately by the Wapate - the people , and notably the women. Brilliant, determined ladies, with short, bushy hair and rows of gold earrings, stare out directly, unhidden by buibuis . Some wear nineteenth-century American gold dollars or half-dollars, though these reminders of the great Yankee trading expeditions have become so valuable that many have been sold. Big earlobe plugs made of silver, gold or buffalo horn can also be seen, as well as nose-rings. If you speak any Swahili, you're likely to find the dialect here unrecognizable. Wazungu are rare and, after Lamu's studied repose, Pate is arrestingly upfront in its dealings with foreigners.

At night, the town resounds with the chimes of dozens of big old wall clocks , further reminders of American trade here in the nineteenth century, which, juxtaposed with the muezzins' calls to prayer, sound thoroughly bizarre.