Kenyan Coast, August 13 (Jen)

Mombasa

After 6 days without a shower, an afternoon waiting around in Nairobi, and an overnight bus, we were ecstatic to reach Mombasa at 5:30 am. We picked out one of the more upscale sounding “mid-range” hotels from our LP, as I decided that I NEEDED, and certainly deserved after our successful climb, a hot shower and a comfy bed. The place was the “Castle Royal Hotel” and it met all of my specifications. I could have used a little more water pressure, but that is standard in Kenya and I wasn’t complaining. After what I’m sure was a 45 minute shower (um, Perry’s was more like 10), we both hit the sheets. I decided I wasn’t getting up, or leaving the room, until my feet had shrunk at least halfway back to their normal size. Lucky for Perry, this happened around lunch time. We had lunch at the hotel, and promptly went back up to our room to lay around and watch TV, since TV is a luxury we hadn’t had since Asia. We only ventured out once more in the evening to walk one block to a Chinese restaurant for dinner (yes, it appears that even in Africa, every town has one). It may have been the most lazy day of our trip thus far.

Next morning, after a nice long sleep, we got back into the spirit. After breakfast, we decided to walk to Fort Jesus, and then to the “Old Town” to check it out. One thing to note about Kenya, is that breakfast is always included, and is always substantial. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to a muffin and coffee at my desk (I know, I know . . . I no longer have a desk) after having full eggs, sausage, beans, french toast, pancakes, fresh fruit, etc., etc. everyday. It’s definitely a refreshing change from Asia, where “western breakfast” consisted of one or two of the thinest, whitest, and stalest pieces of bread ever. Anyhow, I digress. On the way to Fort Jesus we, as usual, had multiple young men stop us in the street offering to be our tour guide. We, knowing our destination was just blocks away, politely declined them all only to be abruptly assigned one upon paying the exhorbent 500KSH entry fee to the Fort. (All of Kenya’s National Museums are about $1 for locals and $15 for foreigners. No matter what the caliber of the museum.) I understood perhaps 50% of what the man said, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t look Perry or I in the face once. Regardless, we gave him the obligatory 200KSH and sent him on his way. We did enjoy the Fort though, but mostly for the views of the Indian Ocean, and the exhibits which we had time to read through once we’d ditched our guide. It’s pretty cool that the whole thing is made of coral, and of course all of the explorer-type history associated with the place. I think I have learned more random history on this trip than I recall from all of my social studies classes back in high school!

After leaving the Fort, we decided that we should check out the “Old Town”, which is a maze of tiny alleys. There are signs everywhere warning tourists that it is best to hire a guide, or you may get lost. Since Perry almost couldn’t walk anymore due to his blisters from Mount Kenya, we flagged down a tuk-tuk and asked the driver if he could show us around. Did he know the major sights of the “Old Town”? A simple “yes” was his answer, so we hopped in. Stupid us. Of course he’s going to say yes! After an hour of random driving around, and a visit to a ridiculously uninteresting Hindu temple, we were dropped back where we started, near the market in the midst of the “Old Town”. Well, at least Perry got off his feet for an hour and so now agreed to venture inside the market and take a look.

Of course, two unaccompanied mzungu (foreigners) in the market attracted immediate attention and Oman Sharif became our newest “friend”. We make a lot of “friends” here in Kenya, as random people often chat us up in the street. “Wow! What a friendly country!” we think innocently at first . . . until the request for money and/or sponsorship eventually comes out. We have learned to have our guard up, which is somewhat unfortunate. However, I’ve recalled something I guess I’ve always known; normal people don’t just corner you on the street and start conversations with you for no reason, immediately invite you to meet their family, see their village, or share with you totally inappropriate personal information. (There are in fact many, many very normal, very friendly people in Kenya. I think after a month we have almost mastered the knack of distinguishing them.) Omar Sharif stepped into our lives at just the right time though. He turned out to be a wonderful guide through the “Old Town”. And, I liked that he had a good natured laugh and quoted us a price when his claim that “We a good friends now. Don’t worry!” met our skeptical looks.

The Old Town’s tiny streets were very cool, unlike anywhere I’d ever been. We mostly just wandered around while Omar pointed out various ancient buildings and innumerable mosques. Of course, the tour ended up at a spice shop, where neither Perry nor I could restrain ourselves. I bought some Kenyan coffee and tea, Perry bought some curry. Curry! We ended up sending it all home in a package with a few other souvenirs, all of which I’m sure will remind us of Mombasa, regardless of where they were purchased, because the entire box reeks like curry. (Sorry Mom, you are the lucky lady who gets to pick that one up from the post office . . .) I was proud of myself for bargaining hard enough that the shopkeeper told Perry he had a good “Mama budget” in me. ha! If only he knew me a little better . . . .

Since our ultimate goal on the coast was actually Lamu, but I was totally unwilling for another 7 hour bus ride so soon, we settled on leaving for Malindi the next day. A mere 2 hours away by matatu.

Malindi

The matatu to Malindi was our first solo matatu experience. I suppose if I were the hardcore traveller that my LP seems to encourage me to be I might be embarrassed by that. But, I’m not. And besides, they make it sound like you are taking your life in your hands taking public transport anywhere in Africa. I would tend to agree that, yes, the drivers are crazy and the vehicles under maintained. But really, even if you were to rent a car and drive yourself, these guys are still on the road with you so it’s all the same thing in my mind. And, it’s nice and cheap! Except that this one actually made us pay for a third seat for our bags . . . that is how massive they have become. This ride went off with off without a hitch. It was actually relatively comfy.

We had decided that it was time to finally reign in our spending a little bit, so we headed to Ozi’s guesthouse on our arrival. I was gently eased into our first “shared bathroom” accommodation (apart from camping that is) because there was nobody else staying there. So, I was really only sharing with Perry and the hallway, which suited me perfect. Ozi’s was great mostly though due to the staff who were soooo helpful and nice.

Malindi is known to be a bit of an Italian beach resort town. We didn’t meet too many Italians there (there were a few), but we did find some fabulous Italian restaurants. “I Love Pizza” was 2 minutes away from our guesthouse, and had the most fabulous pizzas and pastas. I honestly think the pizza rivals Puccinella in Kensington. Second runner up was a place called “Old Man and the Sea”, which offered up very reasonably priced seafood. One night Perry and I had lobster; we each ended up with a lobster and a half for $14! Delicious. The $1.50 glasses of South African house wine were an easy sell as well. (Wait a minute . . . did I say second runner up? Perhaps it was a tie.) Needless to say, we took most of our meals in Malindi between these two places, which were both within walking distance of our guesthouse.

The strangest thing about our visit to Malindi, the Italian beach resort town, was that we never went to the beach. We walked by the water, we checked out the “Vasco da Gamma Pillar” (another historical site) by the sea, and we admired the view from our balcony, but we just never had the inkling to get in the water. I even considered scuba diving, but it was expensive and the wrong season, and ultimately I think I was still just too lazy from the climb. I swear Mt. Kenya took it out of me!

We mustered up the energy one day to set out on an adventure to a place called the Marafa Depression The matatu ride there was an experience in itself. Traveling through various villages, the vehicle picked up all sorts of people and animals along the way. The Depression was very incredible looking. The red colors and rock formations were really beautiful. (You can check out the photos to see) The whole attraction was also a community based project. We paid a bit of money for a guide who walked us through. They also had a table set up with supplies needed at the village school, so naturally we bought some notebooks as well.

Our guide took us to the school and began randomly passing out the notebooks we had bought. At first it was pretty calm as there were only a few small kids around. But once word got out, in about 30 seconds, it was a free for all. Kids were actually fighting over plain blue notebooks, which once again reminded me how lucky Canadian kids are. I worried that perhaps this wasn’t the most appropriate way to give our gift to the school children, but in the end they seemed to calm down and perhaps even share. The teachers also didn’t seem to mind and welcomed us with big smiles and a tour of their classrooms. It was impressive to see what these teachers did with very little. There were colorful homemade posters and teaching aids on every bit of wall and hanging from the ceilings of each of the classrooms. They had collected discarded pieces of wood which the children now use for blocks. One teacher had also set up a “play store” with empty water bottles, old packaged food boxes and other items the children had collected. No FisherPrice here, but it seemed to me that their simple store served exactly the same purpose.

Lamu

The bus ride from Malindi to Lamu was extremely bumpy and dusty. I think I caught at least a foot of air numerous times. The ride was only about 4 hours, but it felt much longer due to the layer of dust coating my face, and the fact that I couldn’t stay put in my seat. I felt more sorry though, for the various people; men, women, and babies, picked up along with way who were sitting on tiny stools or standing in the aisle. No space on this bus was wasted, that is for sure. Upon reaching Mokowe, we were quickly ushered from bus to ferry and arrived on Lamu Island just as it was starting to get dark. We knew where we were going, a hotel called “Amu House”, but had no idea how to get there. Of course there was a helpful fellow there, mysteriously also named Omar, who offered to lead the way. He quickly grabbed my bag, and ducked into a tiny and completely dark alley indicating that we should follow. I stopped and actually said out loud, “Seriously??”. Omar laughed and said, “Lamu is a very safe place, not like Nairobbery.” Against my better judgement, into the dark alley with Omar we went. Turned out he was right, Lamu was a very safe town and it was refreshing our entire stay there to walk freely at all times of the day and night.

Lamu was by far the most interesting place we visited on the coast, and accordingly we spent the most time there. The town is a UNESCO world heritage site. The streets are not really streets, but are tiny alleys wide enough only for pedestrians and donkeys. There are no cars, and surprisingly no motorbikes as well. The homes and buildings are traditional Swahili style, and most are original. Amu House was one of these, which made it a really cool place to stay. The people in Lamu were incredibly friendly. Yes, many of the locals we met were selling sightseeing tours and dhow (traditional wooden sailing ships) trips, but even those we declined still stopped each time we met to shake hands and see how our day was going. The town was small, so we usually met the same people a few times a day, and after 5 days Perry had quite a few buddies. (In Kenya, and especially on the coast, it is mostly the men who are out and about, and they normally only talk to Perry, not to me. I am often wondering where all the women are . . .)

We spent a few days just hanging out in Lamu Town. Much of our wandering time was spent lost in the maze of tiny streets, which was pretty fun actually. We found our way to the Lamu Museum. checked out the market, wood carving, and craft shops, and had multiple coffees and seafood meals. Perry got a haircut, which attracted a lot of attention from the locals. I think he just decided to get one because he was so proud to know the Swahili word for barber (“Kinyozi”). I had my legs waxed at the “beauty salon”, which was a lengthy experience. The girl used a wad of sticky stuff she told me consisted of sugar, honey, and lemon, and it took over an hour. At least it worked though. The most interesting part about the experience was when she first arrived at the shop. She was in her black bui-bui (cover-all garment worn by Islamic women), with her eyes barely peeking out. Once inside, she geared down to the super fashionable clothes she had on underneath, and I realized that she was absolutely gorgeous. I don’t know why, but I was completely surprised. Oh yes, and Perry just had to ride a donkey! It was hilarious. I think the guys whose donkey it was found it a bit hilarious as well. I was impressed how fast that animal took off.

One day we took a walk to the beach, which was near Shela, a separate town also on Lamu Island. The interesting thing about Shela is that it is largely inhabited by rich expats, including the Prince of Monaco! Some locals told us that they regularly see him out and about, and that when he gets drunk he pees in the street. (Not sure how credible this information is . . . ) At the beach, we finally took the opportunity to swim in the Indian Ocean. I was shocked at how cold it was! We spent only an hour or two on the beach because it was so windy and sand was blowing everywhere. The sand was perfect though, so fine and soft. I just wished there wasn’t so much of it in my eyes. The highlight of the beach were the two camels hanging out waiting for tourists to ride them. The guys were charging 1,000KSH (about $15) per 1/2 hour ride, which I figured wasn’t worth it. But, I wanted to try, so negotiated five minutes for 200KSH ($2.50). The camels were so cute! They were very docile, but really high off the ground. The camel actually crouches on the ground so that you can get on. I was petrified when the camel first stood up, and then again when he sat down again so I could get off. Five minutes was definitely enough for me.

We also took the obligatory dhow trip, which included a full day on the dhow, lunch, fishing, snorkeling, and swimming at a nearby island called “Manda Toto”. The snorkeling was barely worth getting wet for, compared with what we’d gotten used to in SE Asia. But the fishing was pretty fun. I caught three fish! And Perry caught two. Mine was the biggest on the boat and they served it to me for lunch. It was very tasty and yes, I did share with Perry. The fishing rods were just line tied to a piece of wood, but they worked fine. The dhow itself was enjoyable, and it was kind of exciting to see just how much muscle our crew had to put into steering us in the proper direction. It was a relaxing day, and another chance to get in some beach time. I’ve had less desire to hit the beach here in Kenya than I had when we were in Thailand. I think partly because our accommodation hasn’t been on the beach, and partly because I had to dress up all conservative to walk there. (I think I may have been deported from the island if I was caught in my bikini and shorts in town.) There actually were quite a few women tourists who weren’t following the “rules” of covering up shoulders and knees, but every time we passed a bunch of guys hanging out in the street, which was about every 10 feet or so, I was very glad that I did.

We both loved Lamu, but after five days it was time to move on. Uganda was calling us. We bused back to Nairobi, which was an extensive trip; 7 hours bus during the day back to Mombasa, and then immediately onto an overnight bus to Nairobi. Yikes. We spent a couple of days in Nairobi, as poor Perry lost a filling while we were in Lamu and had to visit the dentist. We’re not sure whether it was a fish bone from the dhow trip, or the unboiled grilled corn from the street that did it. Our LP is so out of date (even though it was published in June 2009!) that it suggests heading directly to South Africa for any dental care, so we were a little concerned at first that our plans would have to change. But, in the end we found a safe and reputable dentist very near to Classic Guest Home where we were staying. Other than the dentist, we caught up on our photos and blog, printed some photos for our various Nairobi based tour guides, and booked our bus to Kampala.

Overall, we had a fabulous experience in Kenya. It seemed to us to be the perfect introduction to the African continent. Perry likes to call Kenya our “Thailand of Africa” - it was our first stop, we spent longer than we planned, and we are a bit sad to leave.