"Who is he?" said my stepmum as I bowled into their kitchen like a puppy let off the leash, but before I'd said a word. Ha ha ha, she knows me very well.
Despite numerous invigorating discussions with my 12 fellow filmmakers - half from Camden Town, half from rest of planet - and plenty of excellent solutions to Crude's various problems - I have now officially lost all interest in films, filmmaking, Crude, climate change and saving the world. And, what's worse, I've done so for the oldest reason in the book: girl meets boy.
Unfortunately, the particular boy has now gone back home. Back to Tel Aviv, a 6-hour, 0.47 tonne flight away.
Bounced home for just 16 hours last night - washed clothes, played with cats, debriefed by Head of Security (sister) - then straight onto a four-day residential filmmaking think-tank thing in a big farmhouse in Kent. Sounded like a good idea a few weeks ago, but right now all I want to do is wake up every four hours or so to eat more vegetables.
Seem to have accidentally become some sort of focal point for the protesters. There's a constant stream of people coming for meetings at our hotel at all times of day and night - suspect it may be because Robinson is doling out free drinks with our money.
Very hard to get veggie food in Nigeria so the avocado and peanuts on stale
Cold, hard custard and dry white bread for breakfast anyone? The plaintain is lovely.
Found our fourth Crude character yesterday. She is Layefa Malemi , a 22-year-old who has been fishing all day every day for the last two years to save up enough money to go to medical school so she can become a doctor and work in her village. She is quiet, calm, intelligent and funny. Absolutely perfect.
Had a last-minute first taste of Nigeria at the visa office yesterday, where all paperwork is stamped with "this form is not for sale" and the visa man tried to sort a quick business deal - cash upfront - between us and his real or imaginary clubbing pals. (Our cover story being that we're on a mission to bring Nigerian house music to the UK, for our friend's (real) record label.)
After various friends and family calmly and touchingly and repeatedly asked me not to go to Nigeria, I thought the least I could do to take their concerns seriously was a Hostile Environments training course.