A pause from cycling today. There are ducks under the bridge, huddled on the ice. The size of the river, the old industrial buildings and the intensity of the icy wind are on a scale that we don't get in the UK.

We make lists for Thailand and Italy and dream of heat.

I get a message from a former colleague in DRC about a programme that's gone under and ended acrimoniously with the donor. 5 months on, it still induces vague panic and I'm not sure I'm ever going to want to go back to work again.