Kenya

The first few days went well. No altitude problems, a healthy dose of mountain sun burn (I never learn), some great scenery and a new name for me of “Middle Spoon”, courtesy of sharing a tent with the two girls. However, the weather than started to change. On our third night there was snow and blizzards, not quite what you come to expect in Kenya, but fortunately I had my favourite thermal coat. I was not too impressed, however, when in the middle of the night the wind blew the fly sheet pegs out of the ground risking the entire top half of the tent blowing away down the mountain. Marianne helpfully decided that she should probably stay in the tent to weigh it down and stop it blowing away. This of course had nothing to do with the fact it was four in the morning and minus a couple of degrees outside!

The next day got tougher as we passed 4,200 meters. I discovered breathing to be a struggle and Marianne perfected the art of vomiting into neat piles behind the nearest rock. However, after a few doses of Diamox Marianne had recovered well for the summit night… not me however. Whilst the ascent started well, by two thirds of the way up my lungs had decided that this was a really bad idea. Further up still the head was also complaining and with 200 meters to go nausea and dizziness were taking effect. With the chant of “beaten by two girls” running through my thoughts I decided, however painful, I was going to make the summit. My guide (who for some unknown reason had decided to call me “Simon-Peter”) had also decided I was going to make the summit and was providing “assistance”. “Sakwa, I swear that if you try and push me up this mountain one more time I will throw you over the edge” (that was apparently highly amusing for a guide to hear). Nonetheless, I made it and after a few minutes at the top and a rapid descent I started to return to normal. A day later we were back at the park gate and heading back to Nairobi.

After the climb we flew to Mombasa for a few relaxing days on the beach. Now my usual holidays don’t involve luxury. However, whilst a hammock and iron shack on the beach is normally good enough for me, the girls were after something a little more hospitable. They did a good job. The Flamboyant Hotel has twelve rooms and is about 100 Euros a night all inclusive (about 10 times the cost of what I usually pay on holiday!). However, only one of the other rooms was taken, the result being we had our personal butler. Colonial times must have been great in Kenya.

We ate, drank, ate some more, snorkled, ate some more again and added significantly to our mountain sun burns (some (i.e. me) more than others).

After a few days, and having turned a suitable shade of lobster pink, we returned, reluctantly to Nairobi. Alexandra said her goodbyes and departed back to Amsterdam and after a few days of relaxing (and partying) in Nairobi I began arranging a safari for the following week.

My understanding of the “Big 5” appears to have been flawed. My assessment, logically in my view, was based purely on size. Therefore, my big five are lions, elephants, giraffes, hippos and rhinos. This is apparently not the case as leopards and buffalo fit in there somewhere.

Either way, the great African migration of wildebeest across the Serengeti and Masai Mara meant there was no shortage of wildlife to see. The lions, apparently, are not intimidated by tourist busses and an array of cameras. Infact, when there are no wilder beast to eat car aerials can be a suitable form of sustenance. Whilst the driver of the car in front was clearly not too impressed at having his aerial chewed, it is not the kind of thing you want to exit the car to dispute with the lion.

This particular thought rather concerned me when our car broke down. I had thought that our driver had been a touch reckless with his driving. After all, driving what is basically a converted Matatu (minibus) over dirt tracks at 40 miles an hour so that everything rattles and the occupants are thrown all over the place risks a technical hitch. After playing around with the battery for an hour or so it was decided that the starter motor was broken. This therefore required rescue and, fortunately, a rather empty minibus was in the near vicinity. Whilst a separate tourist bus towed our driver and vehicle back to civilization we carried on with the tour. However, on our return we discovered that towing can also be hazardous as both our car and the rescue vehicle had now broken down. I could only look away at the less than impressed newly stranded tour group. However, if they wanted an African experience, this was definitely it…

The final day involved a trip to the local Masai village. Other tourists had described the locals as being “ready” for them. As such, I was expecting a Chinese style tourist show. However, to my delight it wasn’t that prepared at all. Whilst they put on a traditional dance, they basically just sat there and chatted to the tourists about how they used the entrance money to build a school. They had some tourist items for sale but there was no hard sell like in India. Whilst some thought it was “poverty viewing for sale”, I disagree. The Masai are not going to change the nomadic way they live. However, they have managed to make a business out of it (they also apparently own the tourist camp sites). They are not asking for charity at the end of the day and if Westerners will pay to see the village then good luck to them.

After several near misses on the road back to Kenya, and what I’m sure is a damaged wheel axel, our driver delivered us back to Nairobi. It will be a while before I head back to Sub-Saharan Africa. Maybe Kili for the next trip.