Pearly light shimmers off the early-morning ocean as a swimmer breaks the water, tearing a surface as still, tense and silver as mercury. Back on shore, life has a less subtle, more primary palette: a breakfast of orange guavas and fresh cherry juice watched by an inquisitive yellow-eyed blackbird and a tiny bananaquit, hovering over white and pink hibiscus.

In the vibrant restaurants and bars, the energy and attitude are palpable. And if you want to understand America and its present policies, you need to see its dreams made stone in the great monuments of Washington.

Now, Dyke is a safari guide. The skills he learnt as a child have been developed to a fine pitch of awareness: nothing escapes him, no sound or sight or movement. If you want to understand African wildlife, it’s worth knowing Dyke, or someone very like him. Without a good guide, the bush will be just bush, with a few impala jumping around and an odd sighting of a giraffe’s head. It is the guide whose determination and skills take you within a few feet of animals so beautiful, your life shifts on its axis.