The air that greeted Amani as he stepped out of Coach Juma's trusty, sun-bleached Toyota pickup was a world away from the cool, often damp and cold of Utrecht.
Here, on the Kenyan coast in June of 2012, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of salt from the nearby Indian Ocean. The rich aroma of damp earth and the sweet fragrance of blossoms was carried on the humid air.
It was a familiar, comforting blanket of sensations. Yet one that now felt overlaid with a subtle tension that had nothing to do with the climate. He was home, but home was complicated.
They had arrived at the training grounds of Bamburi FC. It was a far cry from the meticulously manicured pitches and state-of-the-art facilities of Sportcomplex Zoudenbalch, FC Utrecht's training hub.
Bamburi's main pitch was a resilient, if uneven, expanse of green. Showing the proud scars of countless matches and training sessions. A simple chain-link fence, rusted in places by the salty air, marked its perimeter.