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| On the rooftop of the hostel in Lamu. |
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| The white sand of Diani Beach in Mombasa |
Mombasa-Diani Beach
My first stop was Mombasa, which happens to be the largest seaport in east Africa. I was greeted by some volunteers (Aliza, Natessa and Andy) that had arrived the evening before. We went back to our rented beach house so I could drop off my bags before going to the beach for some snorkeling. We drove an hour to a small secluded area. It was quite beautiful and peaceful besides the large family with obnoxious children that accompanied us in the boat. Snorkeling was followed by an, all you can eat, five course Swahili meal overlooking the sea that included: fresh coconut, crab, pleasantly tasty seaweed, rice and fish with coconut sauce and masala, fruit, etc. I became quite fond of Swahili food at this point (the food is so much better than traditional Kenyan food). Swahili is the culture created centuries ago as the Arabians arrived to the coast and mixed with the local Kenyans (the Swahili language is the national language of Kenya).
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| Natessa, Aliza, Andy and Myself at a beach bar on Diani Beach. |
The remaining days up to January 1 consisted of going to the beach and enjoying cocktails, except for one day in which we explored the city. The beach had white sand with the consistency and texture of flour which stays cool during the 100 degree days. The coast averages 8 hours of sunlight all year long and 50-75% humidity. This weather was much hotter than at the Village. It was the heat I expected when arriving in Kenya. Take the hottest day in KC or STL in the summer with high humidity that makes you sweat after 5 minutes outside, and that is the weather every day on the coast (although if you are on the beach you do get the coastal breeze).
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| Diani Beach. No camel ride for me. |
A bar on the beach hosted a New Years party. The entrance fee was $30 but drinks were not included. Natessa and Aliza bought tickets, while Andy and I refused. Andy and I hung out on the beach next to the bar and watched the fireworks at midnight. Soon after
Andy went home leaving me by myself on the beach. With my stealth skills I snuck into the party twice only to be booted and kindly informed that the cops would be called if they caught me again. The remainder of the evening consisted of hanging out with the local Kenyans that could not afford a ticket. Being the only white person sitting outside the party, the locals tried to hit me up for money. It took an hour to convince them that I had no money before we became friends and had a good time.
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| Us four on the beach on New Years Eve. |
The next day we woke up in panic as we realized that we slept through the alarm and had less than 90 minutes to get to the bus station for our next destination. Luckily, everything fell perfectly into place and we barely made it to the station on time. After buying the largest bottles of water we could find, we boarded the bus for a six hour bumpy bus ride to Lamu.
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| Lamuan Riding a Donkey |
Lamu is a small island close to the Somali border. It is an island that has not been developed and industrialized. Although there is tourism during specific time of the year, the island remains authentic. Lamu was a major trade port for centuries and has preserved the buildings and structures. The island consists of narrow windy allies with small shops, fruit vendors, restaurants, and a central plaza. The atmosphere is unique with the ban of vehicles and a predominantly Muslim presence (which is widespread throughout the coast). Many of the women dress in black burkas which can’t be comfortable in the extreme heat. Five times a day you hear a load speaker calling for prayer, with the first awaking you at 5AM. Although alcohol exists, it is found in few places on the island because of Islam. The island offered hints of a Venice vibe, but smaller, with less tourist, Muslim influenced, and cheaper. Furthermore, the main mode of transport and hauling is the donkey. Donkeys are everywhere, which provides a cool vibe but often a foul smell as you are continually dodging donkey dung. If you can tolerate the smell the place is wonderful.
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| Old Town Lamu |
The people eat traditional Swahili food which includes a ton of fish. Large mangos are a daily staple sold by vendors picked from the tree that morning. We walked around and did the tourist thing one day before deciding to explore the allies for enticing shops.
The fourth day we decided to go on a fishing trip on a dhow operated by four locals. This could be the coolest day of my Kenya trip so far. We went out to the Indian Ocean to fish (of course I didn’t catch a fish) before going to another island called Manda for lunch. The crew cooked a meal as we swam in the comfortable 80 degree water. The island was empty so we had a secluded meal using our hands while sitting on a blanket under a canopy on the beach. The meal was ridiculously good with the main course being rice and a 7lb red snapper that we shared (the locals caught it earlier that day). The 8 hour trip was memorable.
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| On a Sand Dune Overlooking the Ocean in Lamu |
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| Balancing the Dhow. One minute after this picture was taken a gush of wind tipped the boat and I violently slid into the boat causing the boat to excessively rock and Natessa to become soaked with water. I guess I'm not as athletic as I thought. |
Malindi
The following day, I left the girls and Andy in Lamu as I traveled back south to Malindi for a few days. At this point I was ready to explore a city on my own. Malindi is a coastal city that has been heavily inhabited by Italians. Not surprisingly, I was excited to indulge in an Italian meal. As I arrived, I realized that Malindi was not going to be my favorite stop. All the rich Italians owned extravagant homes or stayed at nice resorts away from the unique city center. I did find a cool Italian supermarket, Italian meat/cheese shop (I enjoyed my salami and provolone sandwich), and gelato shop. After two days in Malindi and one afternoon exploring a local town called Watamu, I got on a bus to head back to the Village.
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| In Malindi. Damn Italians! |
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| A sign in my hostel in Malindi which was operated by Muslims. To their defense, my experience with the Muslim people/culture on the coast was nothing but hospitable and friendly (besides this sign, of course). |
My vacation on the coast was a well needed brake, but I was ready to get back to the Village to greet 27 Irish visitors.
Until Next Time…
