It’s difficult to find the right words to describe this place. ‘Primitive’ sprang to mind, but I wouldn’t want to give the impression that the people here are intellectually backward in any way. They’re really bright – at least, as far as I can tell, because communication isn’t the easiest thing.

I’m not sure what language they’re speaking. Odd words are English, and at times whole sentences seem to making sense. In general though, it’s a language I’ve never heard, and which doesn’t sound much like any European ones I know. There’s a hint of Scandinavian, and a bit of German – but sometimes whole days go by with not a single word spoken that I can recognise.

Still, with a bit of mime, and a few common words, I get by.

The buildings, certainly, might be described as primitive. Raking up what I can remember from the archaeology course I did years ago, I’d say they are similar to those of the Middle Ages. They are proper buildings, not round huts or the like. The have timber frames, thatched roofs, and walls infilled with wicker-work, covered with mud (and other substances, I suspect – there are certainly hairs sticking out of the piece of wall I’m leaning against). I think that’s what’s called wattle-and-daub.

But they do have glass windows. Not very clear glass, to be sure, but glass nevertheless. They are warm, and dry, and serve their purpose very well. Inside the building where I’ve been housed, wall hangings are clean and fresh, the rushes on the floor are changed daily. It’s actually very comfortable.

So ‘primitive’ may not be the word, but it’s certainly not the world I came from, either.