Nyamera�s Stupidest Kenya Trip So Far � Trip Report 2008
Sep 6th, 2008, 02:39 PM
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<b>Day 14</b>
Early in the morning I thought a big animal, possibly a leopard, was tap dancing on my roof, but when I got out I saw that there was nothing but some vervets. Then, when I’d had breakfast, the Kiwi girls appeared in the restaurant and I remembered that I had to go and fetch the black torch.
On the way to my banda a bird guide called Bruno stopped me. I needed to learn more about birds and was interested in a one-hour bird walk, but Bruno’s price was 3,000 shillings. Not only had I already spent too much money, but 3,000 was exactly what I’d been told I’d have to charge people for my services to get a half-decent income after paying high taxes and social security as a self-employed person and I would never dare to ask anyone to pay me that much; a couple of years earlier I’d been told that 300 shillings per day was a better than average pay for camp staff and Nelson was earning $150 per month (10,000 shillings?). Of course, Bruno asked me to tell him how much I was willing to pay, but I just wanted to know the “normal” price and I wanted to pay the lowest price that would still feel like a good deal to him. There was no way he would give me this information, so I went to ask Agnes who asked me if a motorboat was included in the price. She didn’t know the “normal” price, but said that Bruno would give me a better price and that he would not be offended at all because I’d asked her, which I found hard to believe. The price came down to 1,500, which still was too expensive, but I was willing to pay to keep everyone happy. I suppose Bruno had heard of my trip to Crater Lake.
We went on a walk down to the jetty and around Fisherman’s. There were many birds, but not that many that I wouldn’t have been able to identify on my own; right now I can only think of the African citril. The bird walk was about finding birds and identifying them, and I think Bruno was good at it. He didn’t tell me anything about bird behaviour though. He said he would give me some extra bird time at the public beach, so we went for a (relatively) long walk in the ferocious sun along the road. There were very few birds at the roadside, but at the public beach there were hoopoes, LBRs, white fronted bee-eaters, drongos, the ever-present pied kingfishers and some others, that I don’t remember. The public beach wasn’t dusty as the ground was dry-mud lake bottom with short, green grass. There were women doing their laundry on the shore and laying the clothes to dry on the grass, men with donkeys carrying big water containers up to where the flower farm workers lived, and some grazing sheep. It ended up being a 2-hour bird walk.
When back at Fisherman’s I took my black torch and went to look for the girls from New Zealand. Agnes wasn’t completely sure, but she thought they had already left! I asked her and some other people if the Kiwis had handed them my blue torch, but it was nowhere to be found.
I had booked for 3 nights, but hadn’t seen enough of Naivasha and had no idea of where to go next. Agnes looked in the book and saw that my banda was booked for Friday! There were other bandas though. I would have to talk to the manager, Moses, the next morning to find out if I’d have to move and if I would be able to pay the normal price instead of the weekend price. I enjoyed having my own little house in such a lovely spot with hippos and colobus monkeys, but I had to go somewhere else to find a way to stay in Kenya. Time was slipping away.
I decided to have tea at Elsamere and got on a matatu for only 10 shillings. Ofin had said that there would be hundreds of cakes to choose from and that there was no limit on how much you could eat. The road after entering the gate was dusty and there were zebra tracks. The old Land Rover in which George Adamson was shot to death was placed at the entrance of the house. The tea was 600 shillings and I was the only guest, so I could choose when I wanted to watch the film. I decided to start with the ancient video that at times reminded me more of “The War of the Ants” than an interview with Joy Adamson. I had some problems staying awake. Then I had a look at the museum with bits and pieces like Joy’s typewriter and the dress that she wore when meeting queen Elizabeth II. I bought a mouse pad with a drawing of Elsa lying on a sun bed, or tent cot, or most likely a tent cot used as a sun bed. Then it was time for tea. There were just 6 kinds of cake, but I couldn’t have eaten more anyway. One of them was a squash pie that could have been a nasty surprise if I hadn’t noticed that it wasn’t sweet before taking the first bite. The waiter told me that the wildlife was much better than at Fisherman’s and that they sometimes had elands on the lawn. Now I have looked at their website and only the usual hippos, colobus and fish eagles are mentioned. Did he really say anything about elands and did I see zebra tracks? I do remember that I thought about staying at Elsamere, but changed my mind when I was told that it was $100 per night. I went out onto the back of the garden with the lake view. There was a sign about a nature trail and some wooden steps down to the jetty. There was also a warning sign about dangerous animals, but at the jetty there was just a small clearing with papyrus at both sides, so I don’t know if the steps were the nature trail. I did see a giant kingfisher. I would have liked to see the conservation centre, but it was getting late, so I left.
I decided to walk back to Fisherman’s. It was getting dark but there were lots of people walking or cycling and I lost count of how many of them asked me where I was from and how they could come to my country. Almost all of them were from western Kenya and working on flower farms. They were all on their way somewhere and nobody insisted on following me forever. There were splendid lake views and the sun was sleepy and mellow.
In the evening I asked if my blue torch had turned up at the restaurant, but it hadn’t. I talked with a Sri Lankan man and an American mother with a teenage son on an overland trip. They had no Kiwis in their group and they thought that the girls had been in another truck that left at midday. I didn’t keep track of other guests at Fisherman’s as they spent most of their time out on excursions or around their own tents and campfires. I hardly talked to any of them, but these people told me that they had been to Ngorongoro and Serengeti without seeing a male lion, their cook came down with malaria on the first day and their tour leader, who had never done the trip herself, got the flu. They weren’t told what was going to happen, but just what time they should be waiting, and they ended up wasting a lot of time waiting. They didn’t know that you could arrange a trip the way you wanted it with any of the hundreds of safari companies in Nairobi, but after seeing my photos, the Sri Lankan decided that it was what he would do the next time. In the morning they would be picked up by two smaller vehicles and driven to the Mara for a 2-night safari. I gave them some advice about what to do if there were “no animals” in the Mara and they thought I was very clever. That’s what’s nice about other tourists; all Kenyans think that I’m very stupid. They also thought that not knowing where I was going next was very ”brave” and I found that an interesting way of interpreting my lack of initiative. I thought we should do some hippo watching, but the mother and son had to return to their tent as they were getting up very early. I waited for the Sri Lankan man to finish his beer and he started telling me that his wife lived in England and when he called me darling Osman appeared. The beer was finished and I said, “let’s go and have a look at the hippos”, but the Sri Lankan disappeared in the dark.
I would have liked to tell the overland travellers that you have to be very careful with hippos. All nine members of the herd with the tiny baby were grazing at the other end of the camp. I watched them for a long time in a very respectful way and I didn’t upset a single hippo.
This night I missed my blue torch.
Early in the morning I thought a big animal, possibly a leopard, was tap dancing on my roof, but when I got out I saw that there was nothing but some vervets. Then, when I’d had breakfast, the Kiwi girls appeared in the restaurant and I remembered that I had to go and fetch the black torch.
On the way to my banda a bird guide called Bruno stopped me. I needed to learn more about birds and was interested in a one-hour bird walk, but Bruno’s price was 3,000 shillings. Not only had I already spent too much money, but 3,000 was exactly what I’d been told I’d have to charge people for my services to get a half-decent income after paying high taxes and social security as a self-employed person and I would never dare to ask anyone to pay me that much; a couple of years earlier I’d been told that 300 shillings per day was a better than average pay for camp staff and Nelson was earning $150 per month (10,000 shillings?). Of course, Bruno asked me to tell him how much I was willing to pay, but I just wanted to know the “normal” price and I wanted to pay the lowest price that would still feel like a good deal to him. There was no way he would give me this information, so I went to ask Agnes who asked me if a motorboat was included in the price. She didn’t know the “normal” price, but said that Bruno would give me a better price and that he would not be offended at all because I’d asked her, which I found hard to believe. The price came down to 1,500, which still was too expensive, but I was willing to pay to keep everyone happy. I suppose Bruno had heard of my trip to Crater Lake.
We went on a walk down to the jetty and around Fisherman’s. There were many birds, but not that many that I wouldn’t have been able to identify on my own; right now I can only think of the African citril. The bird walk was about finding birds and identifying them, and I think Bruno was good at it. He didn’t tell me anything about bird behaviour though. He said he would give me some extra bird time at the public beach, so we went for a (relatively) long walk in the ferocious sun along the road. There were very few birds at the roadside, but at the public beach there were hoopoes, LBRs, white fronted bee-eaters, drongos, the ever-present pied kingfishers and some others, that I don’t remember. The public beach wasn’t dusty as the ground was dry-mud lake bottom with short, green grass. There were women doing their laundry on the shore and laying the clothes to dry on the grass, men with donkeys carrying big water containers up to where the flower farm workers lived, and some grazing sheep. It ended up being a 2-hour bird walk.
When back at Fisherman’s I took my black torch and went to look for the girls from New Zealand. Agnes wasn’t completely sure, but she thought they had already left! I asked her and some other people if the Kiwis had handed them my blue torch, but it was nowhere to be found.
I had booked for 3 nights, but hadn’t seen enough of Naivasha and had no idea of where to go next. Agnes looked in the book and saw that my banda was booked for Friday! There were other bandas though. I would have to talk to the manager, Moses, the next morning to find out if I’d have to move and if I would be able to pay the normal price instead of the weekend price. I enjoyed having my own little house in such a lovely spot with hippos and colobus monkeys, but I had to go somewhere else to find a way to stay in Kenya. Time was slipping away.
I decided to have tea at Elsamere and got on a matatu for only 10 shillings. Ofin had said that there would be hundreds of cakes to choose from and that there was no limit on how much you could eat. The road after entering the gate was dusty and there were zebra tracks. The old Land Rover in which George Adamson was shot to death was placed at the entrance of the house. The tea was 600 shillings and I was the only guest, so I could choose when I wanted to watch the film. I decided to start with the ancient video that at times reminded me more of “The War of the Ants” than an interview with Joy Adamson. I had some problems staying awake. Then I had a look at the museum with bits and pieces like Joy’s typewriter and the dress that she wore when meeting queen Elizabeth II. I bought a mouse pad with a drawing of Elsa lying on a sun bed, or tent cot, or most likely a tent cot used as a sun bed. Then it was time for tea. There were just 6 kinds of cake, but I couldn’t have eaten more anyway. One of them was a squash pie that could have been a nasty surprise if I hadn’t noticed that it wasn’t sweet before taking the first bite. The waiter told me that the wildlife was much better than at Fisherman’s and that they sometimes had elands on the lawn. Now I have looked at their website and only the usual hippos, colobus and fish eagles are mentioned. Did he really say anything about elands and did I see zebra tracks? I do remember that I thought about staying at Elsamere, but changed my mind when I was told that it was $100 per night. I went out onto the back of the garden with the lake view. There was a sign about a nature trail and some wooden steps down to the jetty. There was also a warning sign about dangerous animals, but at the jetty there was just a small clearing with papyrus at both sides, so I don’t know if the steps were the nature trail. I did see a giant kingfisher. I would have liked to see the conservation centre, but it was getting late, so I left.
I decided to walk back to Fisherman’s. It was getting dark but there were lots of people walking or cycling and I lost count of how many of them asked me where I was from and how they could come to my country. Almost all of them were from western Kenya and working on flower farms. They were all on their way somewhere and nobody insisted on following me forever. There were splendid lake views and the sun was sleepy and mellow.
In the evening I asked if my blue torch had turned up at the restaurant, but it hadn’t. I talked with a Sri Lankan man and an American mother with a teenage son on an overland trip. They had no Kiwis in their group and they thought that the girls had been in another truck that left at midday. I didn’t keep track of other guests at Fisherman’s as they spent most of their time out on excursions or around their own tents and campfires. I hardly talked to any of them, but these people told me that they had been to Ngorongoro and Serengeti without seeing a male lion, their cook came down with malaria on the first day and their tour leader, who had never done the trip herself, got the flu. They weren’t told what was going to happen, but just what time they should be waiting, and they ended up wasting a lot of time waiting. They didn’t know that you could arrange a trip the way you wanted it with any of the hundreds of safari companies in Nairobi, but after seeing my photos, the Sri Lankan decided that it was what he would do the next time. In the morning they would be picked up by two smaller vehicles and driven to the Mara for a 2-night safari. I gave them some advice about what to do if there were “no animals” in the Mara and they thought I was very clever. That’s what’s nice about other tourists; all Kenyans think that I’m very stupid. They also thought that not knowing where I was going next was very ”brave” and I found that an interesting way of interpreting my lack of initiative. I thought we should do some hippo watching, but the mother and son had to return to their tent as they were getting up very early. I waited for the Sri Lankan man to finish his beer and he started telling me that his wife lived in England and when he called me darling Osman appeared. The beer was finished and I said, “let’s go and have a look at the hippos”, but the Sri Lankan disappeared in the dark.
I would have liked to tell the overland travellers that you have to be very careful with hippos. All nine members of the herd with the tiny baby were grazing at the other end of the camp. I watched them for a long time in a very respectful way and I didn’t upset a single hippo.
This night I missed my blue torch.
Sep 7th, 2008, 08:53 AM
#102
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Hi Nyamera,
To find a way to live in Kenya is hard, but not impossible. I had the same dream for many years, and now live there for 6 months of the year and am back in the UK for what it pleases us to call 'summer'. However, its not so easy to live there when the majic has been stripped away and you have to fend for yourself. Atypical day would be to get up, look out of the windows and admire all the wildlife in your 'garden'- then raid the larder (with supplies you have brought up from Nairobi in my case)- and see what you can find to eat...hoping its been sunny and you have some solar power is good...if not then maybe you have some gas with to cook, if not get out the charcoal burner! A trip to the local Masai market every week is good, hopefully if you get there when they have just killed a cow you can get some decent meat - its usually 2-300ksh kg - but because its fresh it really is tough so it will need a long slow cook on the charcoal burner to tenderise it. At the same time you can get some vegetables, potatoes, greens, may be carrots, rice, ground maize and onions are ususally available along with avocado and pineapple - and some eggs, but you will have to float them to check they are fresh - they often arne't ! The rest of the time is pretty much yours to do what you want with.De bugging the bed is always worth spending some time on - and wear and tear mean a continual maintenance job is always on going. There is no great need to go on game drives, since everything comes to you in time. I have a leopard around most nights, cheetah are always about, and all the elephants you could want . Probably rhino is the only animal I'd have to go to look for.
I bought some land and built a small house specifically to allow me to do this.It wasn't easy an dthere were 3-4 abortive attempts. There will be those that criticise that the Masai will end up with nothing - and this is possibly true, but that's what life is about. If the Masai I bought from chose to spend it all in a bar, then hopefully the bar owner will make a profit and send his children to school or something. Also, I know that apart from my small and discretely hidden house, my land is protected for ever as far as the wildlife are concerned - and if I ever get the chance to buy adjacent land, maybe I can increase my holding. However, I am not young and enjoy my retirement away from the UK cold in winter. When I move on to the plains in the sky I have left it to members of the Masai community to preserve for the wildlife.
Hopefully, on the way I can put something back and improve the life of some of the people in the Masai villages - especially the women who seem to have a most unenviable lifestyle by Western standards.
I will continue to strive to leave the world a better place than when I arrived and hopefully will not be condemmed too much for living my life at peace.
I know you will find a way to do the same if you really want to - I promise you it is possible,
Kind regards,
To find a way to live in Kenya is hard, but not impossible. I had the same dream for many years, and now live there for 6 months of the year and am back in the UK for what it pleases us to call 'summer'. However, its not so easy to live there when the majic has been stripped away and you have to fend for yourself. Atypical day would be to get up, look out of the windows and admire all the wildlife in your 'garden'- then raid the larder (with supplies you have brought up from Nairobi in my case)- and see what you can find to eat...hoping its been sunny and you have some solar power is good...if not then maybe you have some gas with to cook, if not get out the charcoal burner! A trip to the local Masai market every week is good, hopefully if you get there when they have just killed a cow you can get some decent meat - its usually 2-300ksh kg - but because its fresh it really is tough so it will need a long slow cook on the charcoal burner to tenderise it. At the same time you can get some vegetables, potatoes, greens, may be carrots, rice, ground maize and onions are ususally available along with avocado and pineapple - and some eggs, but you will have to float them to check they are fresh - they often arne't ! The rest of the time is pretty much yours to do what you want with.De bugging the bed is always worth spending some time on - and wear and tear mean a continual maintenance job is always on going. There is no great need to go on game drives, since everything comes to you in time. I have a leopard around most nights, cheetah are always about, and all the elephants you could want . Probably rhino is the only animal I'd have to go to look for.
I bought some land and built a small house specifically to allow me to do this.It wasn't easy an dthere were 3-4 abortive attempts. There will be those that criticise that the Masai will end up with nothing - and this is possibly true, but that's what life is about. If the Masai I bought from chose to spend it all in a bar, then hopefully the bar owner will make a profit and send his children to school or something. Also, I know that apart from my small and discretely hidden house, my land is protected for ever as far as the wildlife are concerned - and if I ever get the chance to buy adjacent land, maybe I can increase my holding. However, I am not young and enjoy my retirement away from the UK cold in winter. When I move on to the plains in the sky I have left it to members of the Masai community to preserve for the wildlife.
Hopefully, on the way I can put something back and improve the life of some of the people in the Masai villages - especially the women who seem to have a most unenviable lifestyle by Western standards.
I will continue to strive to leave the world a better place than when I arrived and hopefully will not be condemmed too much for living my life at peace.
I know you will find a way to do the same if you really want to - I promise you it is possible,
Kind regards,
Sep 7th, 2008, 10:19 AM
#103
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Hi canary111,
Your lifestyle with leopards and elephants in the garden is more than I am hoping for. I could live in Nairobi if I were able to go on safari a couple of times a year, but even this seem completely impossible. Are you the English woman I was told about at Nyumbu Camp? It sounds like you are able to live half the year in Kenya because you’re retired with a decent pension. Am I correct? Unless I start earning some serious money right now, my chances of ever being able to retire are rather slim.
Thanks for sharing the practicalities of your Kenyan life. I’m very interested in knowing more. How do you get water? Are you far from Talek where I suppose you can buy food all days of the week? I’m not a meat eater, so I would live on rice and vegetables, or only rice when out of vegetables. And, in case all cooking appliances would fail I’d need some dry food in store, like some kind of biscuits. I’m not handy at all, but I suppose I could learn.
Thanks for “knowing” that I will find a way.
Your lifestyle with leopards and elephants in the garden is more than I am hoping for. I could live in Nairobi if I were able to go on safari a couple of times a year, but even this seem completely impossible. Are you the English woman I was told about at Nyumbu Camp? It sounds like you are able to live half the year in Kenya because you’re retired with a decent pension. Am I correct? Unless I start earning some serious money right now, my chances of ever being able to retire are rather slim.
Thanks for sharing the practicalities of your Kenyan life. I’m very interested in knowing more. How do you get water? Are you far from Talek where I suppose you can buy food all days of the week? I’m not a meat eater, so I would live on rice and vegetables, or only rice when out of vegetables. And, in case all cooking appliances would fail I’d need some dry food in store, like some kind of biscuits. I’m not handy at all, but I suppose I could learn.
Thanks for “knowing” that I will find a way.
Sep 7th, 2008, 12:16 PM
#104
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Hi Nyamera,
See, you're beginning to get the hang of it already....if there is no fresh food available -and if for some reason you can't get to the market - as when the river is flooded - then some dried biscuits will do fine. I collect water from rainfall during the rainy season, and keep in underground tanks. This is fine for washing but I use bottled water for drinking - and always keep a good supply of antibiotics handy just in case I get it wrong !
I took an earlyish retirement - and in reality, I find it costs less to live in Kenya for the winter than it does to heat a house in the UK over the winter - even on a UK state pension you could be quite comfortable once you get out of the 'tourist' loop.Though I concede I will probably end up in the UK in the long term since with time my sorry carcase will start to fall to bits and I will need to plunder the Nationl Health Service.
To actually earn a living in Kenya would be hard since there are so many Kenyans without a job at the moment; I don't know how you would go about it although I have a few friends who work for the UN who often seem to be around. What skills do you have, and may I ask how old you are? Maybe there is a wildlife research programme or something - I have seen many research students about at times.If you come to the Mara again maybe we could meet up - I am usually around between Oct and April every year and leave when the rain starts.
To have a dream and a sense of purpose is a wonderful aim - always keep focussed on it and be positive - it only took me 8 years to find a way to make it happen, so you have plenty of time yet!
Kind regards,
See, you're beginning to get the hang of it already....if there is no fresh food available -and if for some reason you can't get to the market - as when the river is flooded - then some dried biscuits will do fine. I collect water from rainfall during the rainy season, and keep in underground tanks. This is fine for washing but I use bottled water for drinking - and always keep a good supply of antibiotics handy just in case I get it wrong !
I took an earlyish retirement - and in reality, I find it costs less to live in Kenya for the winter than it does to heat a house in the UK over the winter - even on a UK state pension you could be quite comfortable once you get out of the 'tourist' loop.Though I concede I will probably end up in the UK in the long term since with time my sorry carcase will start to fall to bits and I will need to plunder the Nationl Health Service.
To actually earn a living in Kenya would be hard since there are so many Kenyans without a job at the moment; I don't know how you would go about it although I have a few friends who work for the UN who often seem to be around. What skills do you have, and may I ask how old you are? Maybe there is a wildlife research programme or something - I have seen many research students about at times.If you come to the Mara again maybe we could meet up - I am usually around between Oct and April every year and leave when the rain starts.
To have a dream and a sense of purpose is a wonderful aim - always keep focussed on it and be positive - it only took me 8 years to find a way to make it happen, so you have plenty of time yet!
Kind regards,
Sep 8th, 2008, 09:43 AM
#106
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Canary111, the biscuits would be in a tightly closed tin. I wouldn’t worry about food as long as I had money. Water for washing is what could leave me sleepless. What kind of toilet have you got, btw? The real problem is earning a living.
I’m in my very late 30s and I can’t say I have any skills at all. I can only get work as a Spanish teacher when nobody else is available. I’m not a teacher and I can’t say I enjoy teaching. When I can’t find a teaching job I sell Kenyan curios, but I don’t earn any money from that. I don’t know much about the pension system in my country – I put my fingers in my ears and hum a silly melody when people talk about pensions -, but I’ve heard that it’s been changed for the worse and women who have worked part time when their children were young worry about poverty in old age. I spent my first 14 years as a supposedly adult person doing low-paid under the table work in Spain. Someone with the lowest pension could probably – at the moment – have a very good standard of living compared to the neighbours in a Kenyan village, but I don’t think it would be possible to have a vehicle, go on safari or visit the home country. When/if I reach retirement age, that will be later than now, only defect people – those who have been in prison, been ill or been abroad – will have the lowest pension and it will probably be even more difficult to live on. I can’t expect to get any pension at all and I can’t wait 30 more years to start living. There’s no way at all that I can get a job in Kenya. It’s been discussed in other threads. I’ve thought about marrying a rich and corrupt Kenyan and I’ve been recommended trying an MP, but I’m too old and un-talented for that. I got some inspiration hearing about Kenyans in the tourist industry earning very good money in Iraq. That kind of vulturing would be a bit too immoral even for me, but I’ve started thinking of going somewhere dangerous to earn money for a life in Kenya. I just don’t know where and how. Now I’ve told you too much about my uselessness and spent too much time that should have been spent preparing lessons.
Thanks for sharing your experiences. I’d love to meet up, but I always go to Kenya in June when schools finish. I hope you’ll manage to stay away from the NHS for many more years.
Salaam
I’m in my very late 30s and I can’t say I have any skills at all. I can only get work as a Spanish teacher when nobody else is available. I’m not a teacher and I can’t say I enjoy teaching. When I can’t find a teaching job I sell Kenyan curios, but I don’t earn any money from that. I don’t know much about the pension system in my country – I put my fingers in my ears and hum a silly melody when people talk about pensions -, but I’ve heard that it’s been changed for the worse and women who have worked part time when their children were young worry about poverty in old age. I spent my first 14 years as a supposedly adult person doing low-paid under the table work in Spain. Someone with the lowest pension could probably – at the moment – have a very good standard of living compared to the neighbours in a Kenyan village, but I don’t think it would be possible to have a vehicle, go on safari or visit the home country. When/if I reach retirement age, that will be later than now, only defect people – those who have been in prison, been ill or been abroad – will have the lowest pension and it will probably be even more difficult to live on. I can’t expect to get any pension at all and I can’t wait 30 more years to start living. There’s no way at all that I can get a job in Kenya. It’s been discussed in other threads. I’ve thought about marrying a rich and corrupt Kenyan and I’ve been recommended trying an MP, but I’m too old and un-talented for that. I got some inspiration hearing about Kenyans in the tourist industry earning very good money in Iraq. That kind of vulturing would be a bit too immoral even for me, but I’ve started thinking of going somewhere dangerous to earn money for a life in Kenya. I just don’t know where and how. Now I’ve told you too much about my uselessness and spent too much time that should have been spent preparing lessons.
Thanks for sharing your experiences. I’d love to meet up, but I always go to Kenya in June when schools finish. I hope you’ll manage to stay away from the NHS for many more years.
Salaam
Sep 8th, 2008, 03:55 PM
#107
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Day 12
Dolly Parton plus a Swahili sermon. You gotta love the big bus.
I hope the phone and safari offer work out in Day 13 for you.
How could you not think your photos were great? They made the French woman scream in jealousy and the American woman chant all your sightings!
Dolly Parton plus a Swahili sermon. You gotta love the big bus.
I hope the phone and safari offer work out in Day 13 for you.
How could you not think your photos were great? They made the French woman scream in jealousy and the American woman chant all your sightings!
Sep 9th, 2008, 12:38 AM
#109
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Nyamera,
You are the funniest person i have ever read about in this forum. I have been following your thread since you posted and right now i have printed the whole story ( As its a bit tricky to read it from the forum, i have copied it in microsoft office and printed so right now i have a hard copy of Nyamera's stupidest Kenya trip so far, interesting) and it keeps me busy when i need something to occupy my mind.
Are you a swede? if yes, have you ever thought of working in Sudan? there are several National Swedish organizations that are having operations in Sudan and it could be nice to try them out e.g SRSA,SRC etc. I know mostly they need persons with certain qualifications but at times you can get some jobs that does not require much especially in that desert of Darfur and the pay check is good!
You should try!.
You are the funniest person i have ever read about in this forum. I have been following your thread since you posted and right now i have printed the whole story ( As its a bit tricky to read it from the forum, i have copied it in microsoft office and printed so right now i have a hard copy of Nyamera's stupidest Kenya trip so far, interesting) and it keeps me busy when i need something to occupy my mind.
Are you a swede? if yes, have you ever thought of working in Sudan? there are several National Swedish organizations that are having operations in Sudan and it could be nice to try them out e.g SRSA,SRC etc. I know mostly they need persons with certain qualifications but at times you can get some jobs that does not require much especially in that desert of Darfur and the pay check is good!
You should try!.
Sep 9th, 2008, 04:50 AM
#110
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Nyamera, my head is spinning. I interpreted your self-description of 'really old' as meaning you are too old. Finding out that you are in your late 30s changes your options. What's to stop you from getting trained in something that could earn a good salary, saving your money and then retiring to Kenya?
Here are some ideas:
--Work at an airline that offers free flights as a benefit, so your safaris would be cheaper.
--Get training at a particular skill where you can immediately get a good paying job. I'm not sure what country you are in, so I'm not sure whether the choices are different, but here in the US examples would be dental hygienist or paralegal.
--Get a job that you can do primarily at home, but exchange assignments via the internet, so you can earn money while living in Kenya but employed by a firm in your home country. I realize that you would most likely not have personal high-speed internet access, but I'm sure you could figure out a way to get to an internet cafe a couple times a week. For example, how about proofreading?
But I really think the most important thing is to stop thinking of yourself as so old!
Here are some ideas:
--Work at an airline that offers free flights as a benefit, so your safaris would be cheaper.
--Get training at a particular skill where you can immediately get a good paying job. I'm not sure what country you are in, so I'm not sure whether the choices are different, but here in the US examples would be dental hygienist or paralegal.
--Get a job that you can do primarily at home, but exchange assignments via the internet, so you can earn money while living in Kenya but employed by a firm in your home country. I realize that you would most likely not have personal high-speed internet access, but I'm sure you could figure out a way to get to an internet cafe a couple times a week. For example, how about proofreading?
But I really think the most important thing is to stop thinking of yourself as so old!
Sep 9th, 2008, 05:22 AM
#111
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Katie the Editor - are you out there? Nyamera would be a great writer for your Fodors Safari Guidebook and she gives a very different perspective and experience than most of the safari goers here on this forum. I don't know how Fodors works, but maybe you could hire her or at least pay for her safaris in exchange for her writing the good bad and ugly about each place as well as logistics???? She would be a great asset to your team!!
Sep 9th, 2008, 10:25 AM
#112
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Lynn, you’d never get Dolly Parton on a matatu, but maybe a sermon or three.
The motifs are great, not the photos themselves.
Leely2, I regret not having finished the report before getting a phone call from a school, or maybe if I’d dedicated 24/7 to NKI I might have been able to say “no thanks” to the school, or maybe not … I was inefficient both at curio selling and report writing. I don’t now what I was doing this summer.
the michaels, I feel like printing what you’ve written about being the “funniest person”. There are people, like pupils, that don’t think I’m funny at all.
I’ve had a look at the Rescue Service website. Their lowest pay is twice as much as I’m earning now, but there are no jobs that I could apply for and it’s unlikely there will be any in the future. I’ll think and investigate further on Friday evening. Somalia sounds better (more dangerous) than Sudan though, and I’d need a shadier organisation. Is there any oil in Somalia? Thanks for the idea!
ann-nyc, thanks for spinning your head. I would not like to be an economical dental hygienist to be able to take an <b>early</b> retirement at 65. For reasons that I could write about in a more discreet thread, though I’m already being too indiscreet here, I will never go back to school. Maybe I could teach myself to be a proofreader, but making someone hire me over the Internet from Kenya sounds more difficult than marrying an MP, and I don’t think I’m exaggerating. “Old” is relative to what I’ve not achieved in life.
Aowens, you’re on the VIP list of Nyamera Camp!
The motifs are great, not the photos themselves.
Leely2, I regret not having finished the report before getting a phone call from a school, or maybe if I’d dedicated 24/7 to NKI I might have been able to say “no thanks” to the school, or maybe not … I was inefficient both at curio selling and report writing. I don’t now what I was doing this summer.
the michaels, I feel like printing what you’ve written about being the “funniest person”. There are people, like pupils, that don’t think I’m funny at all.
I’ve had a look at the Rescue Service website. Their lowest pay is twice as much as I’m earning now, but there are no jobs that I could apply for and it’s unlikely there will be any in the future. I’ll think and investigate further on Friday evening. Somalia sounds better (more dangerous) than Sudan though, and I’d need a shadier organisation. Is there any oil in Somalia? Thanks for the idea!
ann-nyc, thanks for spinning your head. I would not like to be an economical dental hygienist to be able to take an <b>early</b> retirement at 65. For reasons that I could write about in a more discreet thread, though I’m already being too indiscreet here, I will never go back to school. Maybe I could teach myself to be a proofreader, but making someone hire me over the Internet from Kenya sounds more difficult than marrying an MP, and I don’t think I’m exaggerating. “Old” is relative to what I’ve not achieved in life.
Aowens, you’re on the VIP list of Nyamera Camp!
Sep 10th, 2008, 04:30 AM
#113
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Nyamera,
Sorry there is no oil in Somalia, thats why no country is interested in it ( nothing to invest out of it like Sudan) .However, the pay is good in Somalia than any other African countries as no one who is willing to work there...the friends I know who used to work there tells me its a hot zone! But the good thing if you get a job there,you will be going for your R&R in Nairobi.
Good day.
Sep 13th, 2008, 12:24 PM
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<b>Day 15</b>
In the morning I went looking for Moses, but he wasn’t around. Just in case I would have to pay the weekend rates, I decided to check out the neighbouring accommodation options. First Fish Eagle Inn next door. Fish Eagle is a hotel with a campsite. There is a swimming pool, but I’m not interested in that kind of thing. There was also a peacock, which was more interesting and it explained some strange sounds. The place looked very quiet and a self-contained (en suite) single room was 2,220 shillings per night. I never had a look at the room. Then I had to check out Camp Carnelley’s that was bordering Fisherman’s on the other side. Unlike Fish Eagle the camp had no direct access from Fisherman’s, so I had to walk all the way up to the road and then almost halfway to “the village” before descending on a long and dusty driveway. Fisherman’s used to be even bigger than now, but the owner died leaving the camp to two sons with different ideas of how to run it. They decided to split it up and the son with a burnt face created Camp Carnelley’s. At least it’s what I was told. Carnelley’s looked much like Fisherman’s, but was smaller and the restaurant was more basic and down to earth. There were a couple of interesting vegetarian options, but it was too early to have lunch. I was shown a bigger more luxurious banda than the one I had at Fisherman’s. It would cost me 2,000 per night. There were also some nice smaller bandas that only cost 800 shillings, but they had shared bathrooms, and for that reason weren’t anything I would consider.
After Carnelley’s I crossed the road to have a look at Top Camp and it was a long, dusty, uphill walk in almost desert like conditions with dry bushes and euphorbias. When I was finally getting closer to the camp I heard what to me sounded like a very unhappy buffalo until I saw cows at the other side of the fence behind Top Camp. I found some construction workers at the camp and after a while a woman who would show me the bandas appeared. There was a big banda with a complete kitchen and a nice bathroom for the price of 4,000 shillings and the cheapest banda without shower cost 1,400 per night. There were splendid lake views, but I wouldn’t recommend Top Camp to anyone without a vehicle and I wouldn’t recommend the area to any cows looking for grass. The descent was downhill (I expect people of all intellectual levels to read this report) but it was even hotter and drier. I met, or rather caught up with, an old Maasai man who touched his stomach as if he was hungry. It would have felt more authentic if he had told me, even in Maa, that he was broke and needed to buy some food. He probably needed some cash for something so I gave him a very small sum. Then came a pickup truck on its way down from Top Camp and the Maasai man jumped into the passenger seat. I was a bit disappointed at not having been offered a lift in the back of the truck, but I hadn’t even asked. Back at Fisherman’s I met Moses who told me I could stay over the weekend for 1,000 per night. I would have to move to number 12 or, if the person who had booked number 11 agreed, I could stay. I’d have to come to Moses in the morning to find out if I’d have to move or not.
I sat down in the green grass next to the papyrus looking at an outstretched vervet that was being groomed by another vervet. Top Camp is often recommended as a quieter alternative to Fisherman’s, but I would still recommend the latter, even in high season with people on overland trips throwing up in every bush. The camps could be called Camp of Death and Camp of Life.
I decided that sitting in the grass waiting for something interesting to appear was more in tune with my physical and mental condition than walking in the midday sun was, so I just stayed in the grass. Five sheep accompanied by a herder were grazing and I was falling asleep when a pickup truck arrived and parked on the driveway to the jetty. Ten men got off the truck and came running towards me in single file with pangas (machetes) in their hands. I asked them what was happening and one of them replied in a hushed voice, “we’re taking action against poachers”, “fish thieves”, added another of them. I didn’t ask them if they were going to cut the poachers into pieces, but I got up to see what they would do. I didn’t want to go into the papyrus, as there could be mud and hippos, and after a while I went to the restaurant to have lunch. Ofin and Simon came and got into the papyrus and then the poacher hunters left.
In the afternoon I met Ofin who said that the men with pangas had been from Fisheries and had caught two poachers. As I didn’t even notice, it must have been very un-dramatic. There was a two months’ fishing moratorium. Ofin recommended a trip to Oloiden Lake for 1,500 shillings and off we went. We got on a matatu that had its last stop at Oserian flower farm and then we started walking towards Kongoni hoping that an infrequent Kongonibound matatu would appear. We were lucky with the matatu and soon we were in Kongoni village that was even dustier than the dustiest places I had seen so far. On the way there we saw some zebras and impalas. Just behind the village there was a stretch of woodland, and after a short walk among the trees we saw the lake that wasn’t as insanely scenic as Crater Lake, but bigger and scenic enough - and there was no fee for visiting it. Oloiden used to be a bay of Lake Naivasha, but that was a long time ago and now it’s a soda lake with flamingo numbers that reminded more of Lake Nakuru than of Crater Lake. There were hippos and a tree full of cormorants, a hamerkop eating a fish, some shoats with a herder and a small herd of zebras. Ofin said that there usually were more varied plains game. I finally got an open mouth hippo picture and I started collecting bird feathers. It was getting late and Ofin said we’d better leave before it got dark.
On the way back to Kongoni we passed a clearing between the trees with the most idyllic looking camp consisting of two large octagonal tents and a kitchen tent with a big heap of chopped cucumber or squash. There was just one person who looked like a young ranger, but was a soldier of the Kenyan army, and what looked like a mobile luxury camp was an army camp. The soldier was from western Kenya. Ofin knew him and stopped to talk for a while. Back in Kongoni there was a prayer meeting with a shouting preacher. A matatu was departing and we hopped on. Two sheep were loaded through the back door and were made to lie under the seat. It looked uncomfortable and stressful, but I suppose that it was better than a long walk on a leash. I could easily have visited Oloiden on my own for almost nothing and Crater Lake is also reachable on foot from Kongoni, but the walk is a bit longer and there’s an 800-shilling fee. Being guided by Ofin made me feel like a big, fat, pink baby tourist, which I suppose in many ways is an apt description of what I am.
This night there were no hippos. Osman said that they had gone somewhere else to graze. I packed my bags to be ready to move to banda 12 the next morning.
In the morning I went looking for Moses, but he wasn’t around. Just in case I would have to pay the weekend rates, I decided to check out the neighbouring accommodation options. First Fish Eagle Inn next door. Fish Eagle is a hotel with a campsite. There is a swimming pool, but I’m not interested in that kind of thing. There was also a peacock, which was more interesting and it explained some strange sounds. The place looked very quiet and a self-contained (en suite) single room was 2,220 shillings per night. I never had a look at the room. Then I had to check out Camp Carnelley’s that was bordering Fisherman’s on the other side. Unlike Fish Eagle the camp had no direct access from Fisherman’s, so I had to walk all the way up to the road and then almost halfway to “the village” before descending on a long and dusty driveway. Fisherman’s used to be even bigger than now, but the owner died leaving the camp to two sons with different ideas of how to run it. They decided to split it up and the son with a burnt face created Camp Carnelley’s. At least it’s what I was told. Carnelley’s looked much like Fisherman’s, but was smaller and the restaurant was more basic and down to earth. There were a couple of interesting vegetarian options, but it was too early to have lunch. I was shown a bigger more luxurious banda than the one I had at Fisherman’s. It would cost me 2,000 per night. There were also some nice smaller bandas that only cost 800 shillings, but they had shared bathrooms, and for that reason weren’t anything I would consider.
After Carnelley’s I crossed the road to have a look at Top Camp and it was a long, dusty, uphill walk in almost desert like conditions with dry bushes and euphorbias. When I was finally getting closer to the camp I heard what to me sounded like a very unhappy buffalo until I saw cows at the other side of the fence behind Top Camp. I found some construction workers at the camp and after a while a woman who would show me the bandas appeared. There was a big banda with a complete kitchen and a nice bathroom for the price of 4,000 shillings and the cheapest banda without shower cost 1,400 per night. There were splendid lake views, but I wouldn’t recommend Top Camp to anyone without a vehicle and I wouldn’t recommend the area to any cows looking for grass. The descent was downhill (I expect people of all intellectual levels to read this report) but it was even hotter and drier. I met, or rather caught up with, an old Maasai man who touched his stomach as if he was hungry. It would have felt more authentic if he had told me, even in Maa, that he was broke and needed to buy some food. He probably needed some cash for something so I gave him a very small sum. Then came a pickup truck on its way down from Top Camp and the Maasai man jumped into the passenger seat. I was a bit disappointed at not having been offered a lift in the back of the truck, but I hadn’t even asked. Back at Fisherman’s I met Moses who told me I could stay over the weekend for 1,000 per night. I would have to move to number 12 or, if the person who had booked number 11 agreed, I could stay. I’d have to come to Moses in the morning to find out if I’d have to move or not.
I sat down in the green grass next to the papyrus looking at an outstretched vervet that was being groomed by another vervet. Top Camp is often recommended as a quieter alternative to Fisherman’s, but I would still recommend the latter, even in high season with people on overland trips throwing up in every bush. The camps could be called Camp of Death and Camp of Life.
I decided that sitting in the grass waiting for something interesting to appear was more in tune with my physical and mental condition than walking in the midday sun was, so I just stayed in the grass. Five sheep accompanied by a herder were grazing and I was falling asleep when a pickup truck arrived and parked on the driveway to the jetty. Ten men got off the truck and came running towards me in single file with pangas (machetes) in their hands. I asked them what was happening and one of them replied in a hushed voice, “we’re taking action against poachers”, “fish thieves”, added another of them. I didn’t ask them if they were going to cut the poachers into pieces, but I got up to see what they would do. I didn’t want to go into the papyrus, as there could be mud and hippos, and after a while I went to the restaurant to have lunch. Ofin and Simon came and got into the papyrus and then the poacher hunters left.
In the afternoon I met Ofin who said that the men with pangas had been from Fisheries and had caught two poachers. As I didn’t even notice, it must have been very un-dramatic. There was a two months’ fishing moratorium. Ofin recommended a trip to Oloiden Lake for 1,500 shillings and off we went. We got on a matatu that had its last stop at Oserian flower farm and then we started walking towards Kongoni hoping that an infrequent Kongonibound matatu would appear. We were lucky with the matatu and soon we were in Kongoni village that was even dustier than the dustiest places I had seen so far. On the way there we saw some zebras and impalas. Just behind the village there was a stretch of woodland, and after a short walk among the trees we saw the lake that wasn’t as insanely scenic as Crater Lake, but bigger and scenic enough - and there was no fee for visiting it. Oloiden used to be a bay of Lake Naivasha, but that was a long time ago and now it’s a soda lake with flamingo numbers that reminded more of Lake Nakuru than of Crater Lake. There were hippos and a tree full of cormorants, a hamerkop eating a fish, some shoats with a herder and a small herd of zebras. Ofin said that there usually were more varied plains game. I finally got an open mouth hippo picture and I started collecting bird feathers. It was getting late and Ofin said we’d better leave before it got dark.
On the way back to Kongoni we passed a clearing between the trees with the most idyllic looking camp consisting of two large octagonal tents and a kitchen tent with a big heap of chopped cucumber or squash. There was just one person who looked like a young ranger, but was a soldier of the Kenyan army, and what looked like a mobile luxury camp was an army camp. The soldier was from western Kenya. Ofin knew him and stopped to talk for a while. Back in Kongoni there was a prayer meeting with a shouting preacher. A matatu was departing and we hopped on. Two sheep were loaded through the back door and were made to lie under the seat. It looked uncomfortable and stressful, but I suppose that it was better than a long walk on a leash. I could easily have visited Oloiden on my own for almost nothing and Crater Lake is also reachable on foot from Kongoni, but the walk is a bit longer and there’s an 800-shilling fee. Being guided by Ofin made me feel like a big, fat, pink baby tourist, which I suppose in many ways is an apt description of what I am.
This night there were no hippos. Osman said that they had gone somewhere else to graze. I packed my bags to be ready to move to banda 12 the next morning.
Sep 13th, 2008, 03:39 PM
#116
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Day 13, I think.
I got some laughs from Simon's and Ofin's behavior and antics but stopped laughing at the ethnic cleansing news. Well placed.
You really travel with 4 torches? You should post your packing list. I can't imagine what else is on it.
I've been wanting to read an account of the Crater Lake or Crescent Island. Thanks for the Crater Lake details, flamingo feces and all.
I hope the emergency is going as well as you can expect an emergency to go.
I'll check out the 2005 report again, especially the fever in the police station.
I got some laughs from Simon's and Ofin's behavior and antics but stopped laughing at the ethnic cleansing news. Well placed.
You really travel with 4 torches? You should post your packing list. I can't imagine what else is on it.
I've been wanting to read an account of the Crater Lake or Crescent Island. Thanks for the Crater Lake details, flamingo feces and all.
I hope the emergency is going as well as you can expect an emergency to go.
I'll check out the 2005 report again, especially the fever in the police station.
Sep 14th, 2008, 08:18 AM
#117
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Lynn, I do travel with 4 torches, but now I have to get a new torch. I also need some kind of bigger more powerful torch. Maybe some day I’ll post a packing list.
I’ll write about Crescent Island as well.
I already have problems with the emergency and working 24/7 isn’t enough to solve them. Besides finishing my own, there are so many reports that I need to keep up with and I also need to post about some African wildlife issues, but I don’t want to be too heavily involved in any thread.
There is news about the “Somak Lodge”. http://www.nation.co.ke/News/-/1056/...c/-/index.html
I’ll write about Crescent Island as well.
I already have problems with the emergency and working 24/7 isn’t enough to solve them. Besides finishing my own, there are so many reports that I need to keep up with and I also need to post about some African wildlife issues, but I don’t want to be too heavily involved in any thread.
There is news about the “Somak Lodge”. http://www.nation.co.ke/News/-/1056/...c/-/index.html
Sep 14th, 2008, 10:27 AM
#118
Interesting article (and I loved the accompanying demonstration photo). I don't know much about this although it does sound as if there are many, many camps and lodges in the Mara. And to build in a rhino breeding ground? Yikes.
Sep 14th, 2008, 10:38 AM
#119
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Nyamera, first let me say that I have been on 7 safaris (5 in Kenya.) I am a very senior citizen but these safaris have made me younger! Have enjoyed your threads immensely and I just want to include a quote that I keep near me among my reading matereial. I don't know who the author is but here itis: Title is East African Highlands "It is a world from which one comes back changed. Long afterwards gazelles still galloped through my dreams or stood gazing at me out of their soft and watchful eyes, and as I returned each daybreak, unbelieving, to my familiar room. I realized increasingly that this world would never again be the same for having visited that one. Nor does it leave you when you go away. Knowing its landscapes and sounds (even more its silence) how it feels and smells - just knowing it is there - sets it forever in its own special light,somewhere in the mind's eye."
Anybody know the author?
Anybody know the author?
