Freya has been here for two days, where she buys a second-hand motorcycle and goes to the Toray district every night. I just sat cheekily behind her and followed, and I was idle here anyway, and I had almost no clear goals. Freya was excited to meet similar backpackers in a foreign country and agreed to let me follow, but she gave me a heavy helmet and said that I must wear a helmet when riding in Nairobi.

The traffic in Nairobi is very congested, except for the Matatu private car, riding a motorcycle is indeed a good option. Freya's riding skills are much better than mine, and she can brake in time even if she comes back to talk to me.

We chatted along the way, and she said that she studied at the University of Tokyo, but returned to New Orleans every winter and summer vacation, and she also took the advanced diving license in the United States and went skiing in Heilongjiang. I was ashamed to hear this, I had never done any of this, the only dive was done secretly, I drove a medium bus but the speed never exceeded 60, there was nothing to show my hands on.

I said that I studied finance in college, but I am still a poor person. The only thing I can say is that I've been to Mexico, but if you don't count what I did with the Hunter Family, I slept in hotels every day in Mexico, during the day, at night, and ordered takeout for dinner.

We went to an Ethiopian-style restaurant in the Toray district, and it had been three hours since I met Freya, and my stomach was screaming very punctually.

The staple food in Ethiopia is "ingjera", a paste made from teff flour or barley flour that is fermented and roasted in a pan for a slightly sour taste. At first glance, Injera looks like a rag, and when you eat it, how can it be so similar to the sour hair cake made by my mother when I was a child.

The dishes are watt and fitfit, both roast beef with different seasonings, wat with pepper and fite with cream and chili.

Freya very gracefully stuffed her little mouth with food, and I saw that she had eaten a full one-and-a-half-she thought I had eaten enough for dinner, so she ate half of mine, and finally reluctantly kept the remaining half for me after I defended it desperately.

For the next few days, I followed Freya to walk around and around, going wherever there was good food, except for sleeping outside in the Milimani backpackers' dormitory, although Freya laughed at me for being a pig, except for eating and sleeping.

But this pig-like life came to an end one day, my fourth day in Nairobi to be exact.

The Hunter family finally called me and told me where I needed to go - it turned out to be Malindi, da Gama's "staging point" in East Africa.

The hunter family unexpectedly explained to me why they went to Malindi, presumably as a transit point for da Gama, where sailors had settled and intermarried with the locals - among them the Gypsies, who were skilled in the dark arts, most of whom had been taken captive from India by da Gama, who had rioted and fled while they were resting in the harbor.

Of course, the hunters told me that it was impossible to find the descendants of the Gypsies, who had long been mixed with the local population, and that the dark magic as a secret art would not last long, and that the ancestors did not want their descendants to suffer calamity.

All the secrets are hidden in Malafa, Hell's Kitchen.

I went all the way to Malindi, stayed at a local hotel for a day of rest, and then took the local bus "Matatu" to the village of Malafa at noon the next day. It took nearly three hours along the way, and the road was bumpy, and I squinted my eyes slightly and slammed my head into the window, then rubbed my head and woke up to the laughter of my fellow passengers.

It took less than 20 minutes to walk from the village to the "Hell's Kitchen" Malafa Hollow, and when I entered the scenic area, the conductor sent me a guide, and I thought to myself that someone would be able to follow it, and immediately refused to follow the guide, and the conductor was not very happy to ask me for 500 shillings.

Hell's Kitchen is said to have been caused by God in one night in order to punish a family that was so extravagant as to bathe in milk that it caused a landslide.

As I walked along the narrow mountain paths, there were joking warnings from the guides who sat leisurely in the gazebos to cool off. I didn't find anything strange, but if I want to say strange, this whole area is strange. I knew a little bit about geography beforehand, and I knew that the depression was originally a whole piece of sandstone that was softer than the surrounding area, and the soil erosion caused by the rain, and then it became such a scene. If it weren't for the few trees around it, it would even be a sea of fire, the fiery red earth rolling like flames.

But why is there no soil erosion in other areas, but in this area? If the soil is soft, it is very likely to have been dug up, and there is probably something strange underground.

I just guessed that I was in a corner in the middle of nowhere, and by about six or seven o'clock in the afternoon, when the tourists had basically gone back, I started my work.

I don't know anything about Feng Shui metaphysics, so I don't know what traditional tomb robbery skills such as dragon search and cave positioning, so I just find a place to start digging. I had a folding shovel in my bag, and after digging for about seven or eight meters with a few shovels, I felt as if I had touched something hard, and I hurriedly dug up the soil with my hands, which was some fragments of pottery, which were broken.

There must have been something underneath this, and I dug in both sides, and found some broken pieces of porcelain, and after a moment I stopped, and removed the shards of pottery, and saw a whole black smooth rock covered with patterns, and I saw the steps.