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Published: June 12th 2006
Crime, poverty, poor transport, poorer roads, corrupt governments, smudged cities, Africa is the unexplored continent, the unknown. It’s as if all my travel so far has been to prepare me for these final 2 months, and although I feel uneasy, I’m squiggling in my seat with excitement. From the outset, I’ve not been expecting travel in East Africa to be easy, but I am hoping the rewards will be great. Though, I must admit, up to now it hasn’t exactly been difficult! I’ve been waited on with 4-course dinners, driven around on a safari, have slept in safety and fed like a king at an Indian man’s mansion.
The real journey starts now, as I sit writing this in a private bus company’s waiting room at night (in Kenya, going out at night is not the greatest of ideas) at the bus depot on River Road, a street notorious in Nairobi and the epitome of Kenya’s bad vibe. Just sitting here gives me the willies as shady characters walk in and out, trying to sell us everything from torches to razors, while eyeing up my bag and pockets.
To be honest, although Jon and I were only in ‘Nairobbery’
a couple of days, and only half spent walking around the city centre, it’s not a place to linger, and I’m glad to be leaving. To quote 100words of Paul Theroux if I may (I’ve just read his excellent, recommended book ‘Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Cape Town’, so be wary of a few quotes from him in forthcoming blogs as I lazily refuse to use my own imagination):
“Once, even in my memory, Nairobi had been a quiet market town…modeled on an English country town…it merely got bigger, messier, poorer…it was huge, dangerous, ugly…The worst part…everyone said so…was the bus and taxi depot. Visitors to Kenya on route to gameparks seldom see the desperation of Nairobi, which is not the dark side, or a patch of urban blight, but the mood of the place itself. My idea was to walk fast and look busy and not dress like a soldier or tourist - no khakis, no camera, no valuables, just a cheap watch and loose change, for it was a rapacious, hungry and scavenging society. Women…cruised as prostitutes, but men just stood in very large groups, nothing to do, yakking or staring at passerbys as though
to assess what article was worth stealing.”
And that is what it felt like for Jon and I while walking around, having our pockets ‘felt’ every now and then, and here now, sitting in this bus depot at night. Nevertheless, if something of yours does happen to get stolen, it’s also a good idea not to shout out ‘thief’ as it’s likely with this chant, you will be responsible for that thief’s resultant execution by public beating from the fellow men of the street. Welcome to Kenya.
Nairobi is like no other city I’ve been to. In places, which include the city centre and suburbs, it appears more modern than the best Western cities (and comes as quite a shock after Asia), yet, not 50m from houses that wouldn’t look out of place in Beverley Hills, are some of the worst slums in Africa and my first indication that Kenya is actually the 14th poorest country in the world. This is typical of East Africa; the might and ever-expanding contrast between the rich and the poor.
For the most part so far however, I’ve been safely cocooned away from this. Though that’s not to say this 1st
week has been dull. Safe maybe, but fantastic also, and in the company of a good friend from University, Mr Jon Dowding. Taking time off from work, he re-visited South Africa before coming here for 5 days with a peculiar interest in wanting to see me, which I suspect is simply an excuse to visit this wonderful country.
Meeting at the airport, we gave each other a huge manly hug, partly from not seeing each other for a year, and partly from him carrying an enormous bag. His suncream alone weighs more than 10% of my rucksack - but then he does burn easily, so I’ll let him off. Without a moment’s rest from our overnight flights, we were then whisked off in our private (and for me, probably least crowded this trip) matatu to the Maasai Mara National Park, to begin our expensive safari.
It didn’t take long for the wilderness that everyone associates Kenya with, to come into view; hauntingly beautiful in its vastness, green and very very bumpy. We drove through the flat, expansive Rift Valley (for slightly less than its 6000km length), banked by mountains and Mount Kenya in the hazy distance. The roads
put Cambodia’s mudtracks to shame for their (lack of) comfort - I swear there were more potholes in the road than craters on the moon, and some of the potholes were probably larger! Somehow, to Jon’s awe, I managed to get some sleep with my head bobbing up and down like a frenzied chicken, and, after passing many Maasai kids with spears and red cloth, we eventually arrived in the late afternoon to start exploring.
With the company of just 4 others - 2 friendly dutch girls Lauryan and Jetske, and a Polish couple with more cameras than I have clothes, and an unnerving characteristic of making orgasm noises every time they saw even the smallest of animals - we got lots of quality time in the park; the first evening during a magical sunset, all of the second day, and morning of the third.
As you can see from the photos, you don’t need me to tell you how lucky we were with sightings, but I’ll tell you anyway, as this amount of exquisite wildlife doesn’t come into one’s hands often: we were very lucky - dozens of serene giraffes, pregnant zebras and those that love wildly
showing their teeth, hungry lions, cautious cheetahs up close and amazingly personal, muddy hippos, Marlon Brando-lookalike warthogs, cautious baboons, ugly ostriches, many species of antelope and a brave tortoise that we nearly ran over. A 2000+ strong herd of moody African buffalo lazily strolled past us, we were escorted along the Mara riverbank by a man with a gun incase any crocs felt a little pekish for Homo Sapien steak, and watched the remains of a hartebeest being scavenged by jackals and vultures. Unfortunately, we didn’t see the kill, but we saw the lion cubs with bulging wobbling bellies and after just one hour, the cute, poor, little, thin-faced hartebeest was nothing but a ribcage and skull.
I loved every minute of it, poking our heads through the open roof (and falling down again with every bump) and sometimes, seeing herds of elephant and giraffe in the far distance across the plains of Acacia trees, was even better than up close, as it gave me a wonderful sense of scale and majesty of wild Africa, especially when the sun set, sending streaks of orange beams and shadows all around. And all from the comfort of our jeep - a
lazy man’s dream.
We managed to eat 4-course meals in a luxurious rich-man’s lodge before retiring to our cheaper, but far more authentic tent, that I nearly set fire to, as I discovered how flammable mattresses are with candles. We were also (very gratefully) informed not to go to the toilet or for a walk at night, due to some possible lion and hyena traffic - though slightly miffed that they forgot to mention this til our 2nd night… That was not our only date with death either, driving back to Nairobi in a somewhat illegal van: no seatbelts, a driver who’s been driving for 8 hours straight, and tyres that, although initially fine, became just slightly illegal with thin treads and huge bubbles bulging from them, not to mention dodging all the stupid people crossing the roads at night as if they had 3 lives in a video game. But we made it (and the stupid people too…for now), and the safari is something I’d love to do again, if I have the money and don’t travel solo. In Tanzania for example, it costs $60 to enter a National Park for one day, not including $20 for camping,
$20 for food and around $50 to hire a vehicle for a 2-hour drive. I think not. Byebye Maasai Mara.
As if he hadn’t done enough to make the week go smoothly, on top of the safari, Jon also managed to arrange for us to stay at the house of his best friend’s Uncle, Mr and Mrs Chotai, for a couple of days. Barbed wire, a large black gate manned with a guard, bars on all the windows and 8 locks to the main door, they don’t take any precautions and brought home to us that we were back in Nairobi, after we eventually found the place down the backstreet of the modern ‘Westlands’ suburb.
Mr Chotai is a man obsessed with giving directions…the same ones…repeatedly. Though you could never hope to meet a more generous couple, but oh my, generosity has never been so tiring. “Would you like some hot milk?” “No thanks.” “We have hot milk, it’s ok.” “No thanks.” “Ok, but let us know if you want some as it’s no problem.” “Ok.” “You don’t want us to make you now?” “No, really we’re fine thanks. We’ll let you know.” “You sure?” “Yes, thanks.” “It’s
no problem for us..” ..You get the idea, and this was a tame example.
They fed us gorgeous Indian food galore as if we were Hansel and Gretel and even drove us round town, which we eventually succumbed to after being offered over 20 times. They showed us the bad bits, the good bits, and the very bad bits. We drove past the embassy bomb site, bought vegetables and coconuts at a brisk, fun local market, and received offerings of sticky goo from their local Hindu temple.
Finally, of course, we couldn’t miss the other highlight of the week, even if the play was poor, and found a bar showing the England match. Most Kenyans support England which was a pleasant surprise, and we found ourselves watching the game with many locals in the city centre. One guy, Thomas, a pest controller of all things, had quite a bit to drink and proceeded in telling us about the cultural differences between black and white people, before trying to get money from us to help little orphans. Whether he was telling the truth or not, believe me when I tell you it was a strange conversation for both Jon
and I, but he did help us stop getting charged double by a cheeky waiter wanting to pocket the change.
Anyways, as I said, it hasn’t exactly been a stressful week. But that changes now, having said goodbye to Jon, as I set off on my own for 7 final weeks of stress, adventure and lots of open space across the continent, with a tent. But before I go inland on a big loop, it’s a week exploring the cultural coast for me. Keep enjoying the summer, wherever you are (except for Heiko, where it’s currently wintertime !). Tara!
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Heiko
non-member comment
Brrrrrrr
What a great contrast to your past fotos. Love the sights and the open spaces. May the next 7 weeks be packed with wildlife, amazing geography and only few potholes! Keep safe, brother! PS: by the way, we have +1.5 degree and the woodburner roaring. Brrrrr