This was a rather nostalgic trip. When we lived in Abidjan, one of my particular pleasures was buying material and taking it to the tailor's, all in the company of my late friend, Mercy. We'd set ourselves a spending limit, tour the fabric shops, egg each other on until we'd blown the budget right out of the water, stop somewhere for a spot of lunch, and generally have an uproarious time. Never has clothes procurement been so much fun.

We had several tailors, all specializing in different things. This was the tailor of Marcory, who did fantastic shirts:



And here's me with another big bundle of gorgeous stuff:



And here we are, with Mercy's family, wearing some of the awesome local tie-dye that she'd just presented us with:



Since then, I've shelled out to have some silk made up in Hoi An, back in 2003, and that's been it.

So it was nice to be again making the most of this artisanal tradition, getting my batik made into something nice.

Our tailor was incredibly busy, as it's Ramadan, and people have new clothes made, ready for the big celebration at the end. I've lost the knack of choosing styles, but luckily a colleague was on hand, with a phone connected to one of the vast number of websites offering styles for batik shirts.

We've chosen two, so I have my fingers crossed that I'll do them proud.