Nyamera�s Stupidest Kenya Trip So Far � Trip Report 2008
Oct 27th, 2008, 03:46 PM
#141
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Day 18
You went from not killing spiders to photographing them. Did any of those spider shots make it into the album? Sorry, I couldn't recall.
The amarula cheesecake will lure you back if nothing else does.
You went from not killing spiders to photographing them. Did any of those spider shots make it into the album? Sorry, I couldn't recall.
The amarula cheesecake will lure you back if nothing else does.
Oct 28th, 2008, 01:48 PM
#143
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Patty, Lynn and Leely2, thanks for reading even the least interesting instalments.
Almost all my photos are in the album (no editing and still no captions…) and there are several spider shots. One is of a six-legged spider that I asked about on Safaritalk and was assured that the legs will grow out.
Almost all my photos are in the album (no editing and still no captions…) and there are several spider shots. One is of a six-legged spider that I asked about on Safaritalk and was assured that the legs will grow out.
Nov 1st, 2008, 01:34 PM
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<b>Day 19</b>
I had my last breakfast at Fisherman’s and paid for the 4 nights that were still unpaid. Priscilla was at the bar. For the last time I asked if a little blue torch had turned up and then I decided to consider it just a torch.
I finished packing and left a tip for Lorna who was doing the housekeeping. It was for cleaning after me as she hadn’t cleaned the banda a single time during my stay. Maybe I was supposed to hand her the key that I carried around all the time, as I wasn’t passing through a reception. I never asked. I had got a new towel when I asked for one. I could have used the same one for a week if it hadn’t been because I’d kept washing my feet several times a day. Lorna had done some laundry for me, but then I had tipped each time that I’d paid for the laundry.
I still had the bun from my picnic at Crescent Island and as I hadn’t been able to photograph any of the robin chats that were always around the banda, I decided to try some baiting, but not a single bird appeared!
I really didn’t want other people to stay in my banda, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I just took my bags and left. Some of the Fisherman’s staff were spreading out the dust heaps over the grass and saying that I’d have tell them when I was leaving so that they could come and say goodbye. When I got to the office, Tobis appeared and offered to help me with my big bag. I didn’t know if I should take a taxi or matatu to Naivasha. My bag was too big for a matatu, but Ofin and Simon, who had appeared as well, told me a matatu would be the best option. Some people I hadn’t even talked with would miss me terribly. Maybe I too should start saying things like that?
I got on a matatu and my big bag was put up on the roof without any ropes. I didn’t like it, but it would be tied up in the “village” that was just some 500 metres away. The bag got to share the roof with a sofa and I thought I must have been the first tourist spending 7 nights at Lake Naivasha without visiting Hell’s Gate. I would definitely return to Lake Naivasha, but I felt I had lost a lot of time, as it wasn’t a place where I could find a way to stay in Kenya. Nairobi was probably the only place in the world where anything could happen.
In Naivasha Town I asked to be let off at a bus stop, but instead I was dropped next to a Nairobi-bound matatu. The turnboy of the first matatu told me not to pay more than 250 shillings for the trip to Nairobi while the Fisherman’s – Naivasha Town fare was 100 for me and another 100 for my bag. Jolly Coach was 100 for both of us, but the matatu would drop me off near the Terminal and was leaving in a second, so I hopped on. I sat in the first row with my bag on my lap trying to keep it off other people’s laps as much as possible. At the next stop I was told I’d be more comfortable further back, so I moved seats waiting for my bag to be handed over and put on the floor, but the turnboy kept it in the front on a narrow “shelf” behind the driver, but mostly leaning on the lap of a woman who had just got on. The turnboy thought the bag was better in the front and as I felt how I was getting less popular for each second that passed, I told the woman we would switch seats at the next stop, and so we did. I sat with my knees lifted and to the side. Though it wasn’t that much of a problem as the drive was just an hour and a half or so. I took up too much space, but at least the woman sitting next to me most of the time didn’t have my bag on her lap. Instead she had a little girl who couldn’t have been more than a year old and had very long eyelashes. At a stop the mother bought a grilled sausage that the girl had almost finished when we arrived in Nairobi!
I alighted next to Jevanjee Gardens, very close to the Terminal, and fortunately a professional bag carrier found me and took my big bag. In Nairobi it had rained heavily for a couple of days, but now it was warm and sunny. Nelson was working. He said that he had read the book that was better than he’d expected and he’d learnt a lot about Iraq. Then he started talking about some women who wanted to do business with me. Nyamera Kenya Imports was the last thing I wanted to think about, but I said I was interested and could see the women later in the week, as I was going to Nairobi National Park the following day. Nelson didn’t complain that I was going with As You Like It, probably because he had approved of Kamara.
While freshening up, I got an sms from James asking if I’d had a safe journey. I replied and then he asked about the “mobile with Internet” that I had “promised” him. I sent a message to George at As You Like It to ask about what time we would meet for the game drive and the reply was “9am” which sounded like a very favourable time for starting an afternoon game drive, or at least that’s what I thought at the moment. Then I went to check my email at the place next to Nakumatt.
Out on the streets I enjoyed the warm sun and general loveliness until a man told me he’d like us to have a cup of coffee. It wasn’t that fun as he was even older than I. His reason for wanting to have a coffee was that he needed a girlfriend like me. I know the word “need” is used in a special way in Kenyan English, but it irritates me anyway. I considered asking him if he’d thought about why I would need a boyfriend like him, but it could have become too nasty. Though he’d probably not have understood the question. How difficult is it to say, “I happen to be the owner of a small unfenced camp in the Mara”? Why is it that Nairobi street hustlers don’t know how to lie? Some do lie, telling you they’re refugees from Sudan, “intellectuals like you” (a teacher!) and on the way to Uppsala University, but they all tell the same lie and haven’t considered that tourists lie as well – like saying they’re teachers when they’ve never been to teaching collage. I’m thinking of starting an NGO that would teach Nairobi street hustlers how to lie. I’ll apply for funding from the European Union and it’ll be enough to pay me the salary I deserve, a house next to Nairobi NP and one in the Mara for my well-deserved time off. I’ll appear in interviews with a breathtakingly beautiful background looking smug and talking about “teaching how to fish”.
As I’d decided to quit my restaurant habit, I bought some chocolate, baby bananas and long-life milk at Uchumi and the man who needed a girlfriend was still there when I left the supermarket, so I returned to the Terminal where I had some chocolate and then I fell asleep.
It was dark when I woke up. I had dedicated part of my last afternoon at Lake Naivasha to the 20th century pursuit of writing postcards and now I had to find a post box. I walked down Loita Street where I found another branch of Savannah – the coffee shop place at the National Museum. The area around the post office at the other side of Kenyatta Avenue looked very empty and dark, but I didn’t allow myself to slow down my steps, any hesitation would mean that I’d never be able to live in Kenya. I didn’t have to get down to the post office, as there was a post box up on the pavement, but now I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to walk into the darkness anyway.
For some reason, I “needed” a pizza and ended up at Trattoria. I was shown to a table “outside”. There’s a screen so that nobody on the road sees you, which might be just as well, but you can’t see anyone inside the restaurant either. All Kenyans chose to sit inside and I regretted not having said that I wanted to sit there too. The food is a bit expensive by Kenyan standards, but not compared to Sweden, I thought until I understood that, unlike at other restaurants, VAT and a service fee aren’t included in the price on the menu. I had a Hortelana that was good, but not as perfect as I remembered. Then I had an Amaretto ice cream, which I can recommend. Once out on the street again, I was approached by a woman who couldn’t afford to feed her children. I gave her a small note and then four or five other women appeared. I said that I didn’t have any more small notes, which was true, but they said they could share a big note. One of them kept repeating, “remember that life is sad, remember that life is sad”. What was I supposed to reply? “Yes, it is when you only have six nights of your trip in a prime wildlife area”? If I’d been in their situation, my children would have starved to death, as I would never had dared to ask people in the street for money. I suggested they ask someone else, but they said there was nobody else they could ask. Thoughts that these women never would give me a anything if the situation were reversed came into my mind and then I turned 180º and started running.
I had my last breakfast at Fisherman’s and paid for the 4 nights that were still unpaid. Priscilla was at the bar. For the last time I asked if a little blue torch had turned up and then I decided to consider it just a torch.
I finished packing and left a tip for Lorna who was doing the housekeeping. It was for cleaning after me as she hadn’t cleaned the banda a single time during my stay. Maybe I was supposed to hand her the key that I carried around all the time, as I wasn’t passing through a reception. I never asked. I had got a new towel when I asked for one. I could have used the same one for a week if it hadn’t been because I’d kept washing my feet several times a day. Lorna had done some laundry for me, but then I had tipped each time that I’d paid for the laundry.
I still had the bun from my picnic at Crescent Island and as I hadn’t been able to photograph any of the robin chats that were always around the banda, I decided to try some baiting, but not a single bird appeared!
I really didn’t want other people to stay in my banda, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I just took my bags and left. Some of the Fisherman’s staff were spreading out the dust heaps over the grass and saying that I’d have tell them when I was leaving so that they could come and say goodbye. When I got to the office, Tobis appeared and offered to help me with my big bag. I didn’t know if I should take a taxi or matatu to Naivasha. My bag was too big for a matatu, but Ofin and Simon, who had appeared as well, told me a matatu would be the best option. Some people I hadn’t even talked with would miss me terribly. Maybe I too should start saying things like that?
I got on a matatu and my big bag was put up on the roof without any ropes. I didn’t like it, but it would be tied up in the “village” that was just some 500 metres away. The bag got to share the roof with a sofa and I thought I must have been the first tourist spending 7 nights at Lake Naivasha without visiting Hell’s Gate. I would definitely return to Lake Naivasha, but I felt I had lost a lot of time, as it wasn’t a place where I could find a way to stay in Kenya. Nairobi was probably the only place in the world where anything could happen.
In Naivasha Town I asked to be let off at a bus stop, but instead I was dropped next to a Nairobi-bound matatu. The turnboy of the first matatu told me not to pay more than 250 shillings for the trip to Nairobi while the Fisherman’s – Naivasha Town fare was 100 for me and another 100 for my bag. Jolly Coach was 100 for both of us, but the matatu would drop me off near the Terminal and was leaving in a second, so I hopped on. I sat in the first row with my bag on my lap trying to keep it off other people’s laps as much as possible. At the next stop I was told I’d be more comfortable further back, so I moved seats waiting for my bag to be handed over and put on the floor, but the turnboy kept it in the front on a narrow “shelf” behind the driver, but mostly leaning on the lap of a woman who had just got on. The turnboy thought the bag was better in the front and as I felt how I was getting less popular for each second that passed, I told the woman we would switch seats at the next stop, and so we did. I sat with my knees lifted and to the side. Though it wasn’t that much of a problem as the drive was just an hour and a half or so. I took up too much space, but at least the woman sitting next to me most of the time didn’t have my bag on her lap. Instead she had a little girl who couldn’t have been more than a year old and had very long eyelashes. At a stop the mother bought a grilled sausage that the girl had almost finished when we arrived in Nairobi!
I alighted next to Jevanjee Gardens, very close to the Terminal, and fortunately a professional bag carrier found me and took my big bag. In Nairobi it had rained heavily for a couple of days, but now it was warm and sunny. Nelson was working. He said that he had read the book that was better than he’d expected and he’d learnt a lot about Iraq. Then he started talking about some women who wanted to do business with me. Nyamera Kenya Imports was the last thing I wanted to think about, but I said I was interested and could see the women later in the week, as I was going to Nairobi National Park the following day. Nelson didn’t complain that I was going with As You Like It, probably because he had approved of Kamara.
While freshening up, I got an sms from James asking if I’d had a safe journey. I replied and then he asked about the “mobile with Internet” that I had “promised” him. I sent a message to George at As You Like It to ask about what time we would meet for the game drive and the reply was “9am” which sounded like a very favourable time for starting an afternoon game drive, or at least that’s what I thought at the moment. Then I went to check my email at the place next to Nakumatt.
Out on the streets I enjoyed the warm sun and general loveliness until a man told me he’d like us to have a cup of coffee. It wasn’t that fun as he was even older than I. His reason for wanting to have a coffee was that he needed a girlfriend like me. I know the word “need” is used in a special way in Kenyan English, but it irritates me anyway. I considered asking him if he’d thought about why I would need a boyfriend like him, but it could have become too nasty. Though he’d probably not have understood the question. How difficult is it to say, “I happen to be the owner of a small unfenced camp in the Mara”? Why is it that Nairobi street hustlers don’t know how to lie? Some do lie, telling you they’re refugees from Sudan, “intellectuals like you” (a teacher!) and on the way to Uppsala University, but they all tell the same lie and haven’t considered that tourists lie as well – like saying they’re teachers when they’ve never been to teaching collage. I’m thinking of starting an NGO that would teach Nairobi street hustlers how to lie. I’ll apply for funding from the European Union and it’ll be enough to pay me the salary I deserve, a house next to Nairobi NP and one in the Mara for my well-deserved time off. I’ll appear in interviews with a breathtakingly beautiful background looking smug and talking about “teaching how to fish”.
As I’d decided to quit my restaurant habit, I bought some chocolate, baby bananas and long-life milk at Uchumi and the man who needed a girlfriend was still there when I left the supermarket, so I returned to the Terminal where I had some chocolate and then I fell asleep.
It was dark when I woke up. I had dedicated part of my last afternoon at Lake Naivasha to the 20th century pursuit of writing postcards and now I had to find a post box. I walked down Loita Street where I found another branch of Savannah – the coffee shop place at the National Museum. The area around the post office at the other side of Kenyatta Avenue looked very empty and dark, but I didn’t allow myself to slow down my steps, any hesitation would mean that I’d never be able to live in Kenya. I didn’t have to get down to the post office, as there was a post box up on the pavement, but now I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to walk into the darkness anyway.
For some reason, I “needed” a pizza and ended up at Trattoria. I was shown to a table “outside”. There’s a screen so that nobody on the road sees you, which might be just as well, but you can’t see anyone inside the restaurant either. All Kenyans chose to sit inside and I regretted not having said that I wanted to sit there too. The food is a bit expensive by Kenyan standards, but not compared to Sweden, I thought until I understood that, unlike at other restaurants, VAT and a service fee aren’t included in the price on the menu. I had a Hortelana that was good, but not as perfect as I remembered. Then I had an Amaretto ice cream, which I can recommend. Once out on the street again, I was approached by a woman who couldn’t afford to feed her children. I gave her a small note and then four or five other women appeared. I said that I didn’t have any more small notes, which was true, but they said they could share a big note. One of them kept repeating, “remember that life is sad, remember that life is sad”. What was I supposed to reply? “Yes, it is when you only have six nights of your trip in a prime wildlife area”? If I’d been in their situation, my children would have starved to death, as I would never had dared to ask people in the street for money. I suggested they ask someone else, but they said there was nobody else they could ask. Thoughts that these women never would give me a anything if the situation were reversed came into my mind and then I turned 180º and started running.
Nov 24th, 2008, 08:59 AM
#148
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<b>Day 20</b>
I only had to wait in the street for twenty minutes– quite good considering Nairobi traffic - before George showed up almost unrecognisable wearing a three-piece suit as he was going to the bank. The old landcruiser was waiting in Koinange Street because of the traffic and Gabriel would be my driver. George wanted to charge me $150 before I reminded him that we had agreed on $140. I paid 9,000 shilling, which is a lot of money. Gabriel was different to my previous guides as he was older and was wearing jeans and sunglasses and had been to America. He spoke very good English and immediately started informing me about the different buildings that we were passing. Once inside the national park we made the usual stop at the 1989 ivory burning site. As a contrast to 2005 when I didn’t see a single zebra, but had seen hundreds of them outside the park, there were lots of zebras everywhere, many of them pregnant. Then there were impalas, hartebeests, giraffes, ostriches, some buffaloes, elands and a crocodile lying in exactly the same place where I had seen it in 2005, so I decided it was the same croc. Gabriel called the zebras “zeebras”. He was quite good at identifying birds (I think) and had ideas about what would be a good photo.
The sun was again out on a rampage and I was standing up in the roof hatch. We met another vehicle and the driver told us they’d seen lions. We never found the lions and then it was lunchtime and we went to the Hippo Pool. When I returned from having explored the bathroom of the picnic site Gabriel told me that there was a sleeping ranger under the round sun roofed picnic area. As a fellow narcoleptic, I thought we should leave him alone and then we went to have a look at the hippos. We heard hippo sounds, but the dense vegetation hanging over the water’s edge made it impossible to see them. There were some nice terrapins and fresh buffalo evidence. Some Indian style young people arrived - two boys and a girl. The oldest boy, who was talking the most, had an American accent. They weren’t that quiet, but the young ranger didn’t wake up. These youngsters and Gabriel thought it was quite a problem that the ranger was sleeping when on duty and they tried to wake him up, without success. The girl was tickling him with a strand of grass and everyone agreed that the ranger was drunk as a skunk. They also took some photos. When I returned after having photographed some vervet monkeys, I was told that the ranger had talked. Gabriel had told him that the head warden had been there and the ranger replied, “I don’t care”. Then Gabriel said that there were poachers around and the ranger said, “let them go” and fell asleep again. I too decided to get some sleeping ranger photos. Gabriel thought that the ranger gave a very bad image of Kenya, but I’ve seen so much worse. Before leaving, the three young people told us that they’d seen 7 rhinos.
Gabriel got out a very advanced-looking multi compartment picnic carrier. All the sandwiches had ham in them except one with peanut butter and jam, so I ate that one. Gabriel thought that Kamara should have made sure that the kitchen knew I was a vegetarian and I told him that Vivien – whom Gabriel referred to as his “partner” (I didn’t ask in what way) - had been informed a couple of times as well. There was watermelon, biscuits and, best of all, a Kit Kat, so I couldn’t really complain about the lunch. The vervets were very interested in our lunch and we had to keep chasing them away. It wasn’t much fun as I’d liked to share some biscuits with them, if it weren’t because they can become aggressive. It was very hot and I wasn’t in a hurry since we’d spend the afternoon in the park.
It was so hot that I had to sit down in the landcruiser to try to get some shade. The buffaloes were lying under trees, but the giraffes where out and about everywhere. Gabriel had an idea about how the line of a tree branch would make a good photo. For any other of the guides I’ve had, to say a thing like that would have been as expected as a request to borrow my lip-gloss. We stopped at a couple of viewpoints. At one of them a hyrax came running with another hyrax after it. The chased hyrax disappeared and the chaser stopped to roll in the dust and pose for a photo. I was feeling pretty certain that we’d see rhinos when we suddenly were at Maasai gate and Gabriel just drove out of the park. I didn’t know what to say. I had wanted an afternoon game drive and it was not yet 3pm, but maybe I should have understood that when the starting time was changed to 9am the finishing time would be changed as well. If Kamara had been my guide I’d probably had started communicating better with him in the absence of Kiringai and I’d asked him to return to the park, but I’m not so sure of that either. I got a glimpse of Maasai Lodge and of a palatial house with a view into the park that according to Gabriel had been for sale for I don’t remember how much.
Back in town Gabriel stopped on Koinange because of the parking problems on Moktar Daddah. First he, most unusually, for a second tried to say “no thanks” to a tip. He gave me a couple of solid ice water bottles. The ice and the peanut butter give a hint of what nationality As You Like It mostly caters to. Back at the Terminal I fell asleep.
After a while there was a knock on my door. Nelson wanted to show me some jewellery samples. The only interesting item was a spiral bangle with small glass beads in different colours. Some of Nelson’s friends were at the Tuesday Maasai Market – which I always miss - near the Terminal. He asked me not to leave, as they would soon be at the hotel. I was in no mood for Nyamera Kenya Imports when all I wanted to do was to export myself to Kenya, but I had made some kind of promise. After a long wait the women arrived. They weren’t the same as the previous year and I don’t even think they were Kamba as Nelson spoke to them in Swahili. They spread out the jewellery all over my hot little room. There were no spiral bangles, but they would make some for me that would be ready on Thursday. I bought some jewellery at the asking price that was quite low, and then the women left.
I don’t know what I did in the evening, but I didn’t visit ZanzeBar. The only serious pre-trip advice I’d been given about how to be able to stay in Kenya had come from a blogger who told me to visit this bar frequented by members of parliament. I’d “just” have to seduce and marry one of them. I wouldn’t have known how to recognise an MP and I’d definitely not have known how to seduce him, and besides that, I don’t want to be married – especially not to a Kenyan politician. Anyway, to have something to write about, I could have checked out the place and had a glass of pineapple juice, but I wasn’t in the right mood.
Now some real stupidity: when I was planning this trip, I asked the director of a safari company with safari prices not within my budget (but probably not more expensive than As you Like It) what they would charge for an afternoon game drive in Nairobi NP and he told me he could take me there in his own car. I’d just have to pay for the park fees and petrol, as money wasn’t everything! Quite sensational! I thought about visiting the company’s office, but too many months had passed.
I only had to wait in the street for twenty minutes– quite good considering Nairobi traffic - before George showed up almost unrecognisable wearing a three-piece suit as he was going to the bank. The old landcruiser was waiting in Koinange Street because of the traffic and Gabriel would be my driver. George wanted to charge me $150 before I reminded him that we had agreed on $140. I paid 9,000 shilling, which is a lot of money. Gabriel was different to my previous guides as he was older and was wearing jeans and sunglasses and had been to America. He spoke very good English and immediately started informing me about the different buildings that we were passing. Once inside the national park we made the usual stop at the 1989 ivory burning site. As a contrast to 2005 when I didn’t see a single zebra, but had seen hundreds of them outside the park, there were lots of zebras everywhere, many of them pregnant. Then there were impalas, hartebeests, giraffes, ostriches, some buffaloes, elands and a crocodile lying in exactly the same place where I had seen it in 2005, so I decided it was the same croc. Gabriel called the zebras “zeebras”. He was quite good at identifying birds (I think) and had ideas about what would be a good photo.
The sun was again out on a rampage and I was standing up in the roof hatch. We met another vehicle and the driver told us they’d seen lions. We never found the lions and then it was lunchtime and we went to the Hippo Pool. When I returned from having explored the bathroom of the picnic site Gabriel told me that there was a sleeping ranger under the round sun roofed picnic area. As a fellow narcoleptic, I thought we should leave him alone and then we went to have a look at the hippos. We heard hippo sounds, but the dense vegetation hanging over the water’s edge made it impossible to see them. There were some nice terrapins and fresh buffalo evidence. Some Indian style young people arrived - two boys and a girl. The oldest boy, who was talking the most, had an American accent. They weren’t that quiet, but the young ranger didn’t wake up. These youngsters and Gabriel thought it was quite a problem that the ranger was sleeping when on duty and they tried to wake him up, without success. The girl was tickling him with a strand of grass and everyone agreed that the ranger was drunk as a skunk. They also took some photos. When I returned after having photographed some vervet monkeys, I was told that the ranger had talked. Gabriel had told him that the head warden had been there and the ranger replied, “I don’t care”. Then Gabriel said that there were poachers around and the ranger said, “let them go” and fell asleep again. I too decided to get some sleeping ranger photos. Gabriel thought that the ranger gave a very bad image of Kenya, but I’ve seen so much worse. Before leaving, the three young people told us that they’d seen 7 rhinos.
Gabriel got out a very advanced-looking multi compartment picnic carrier. All the sandwiches had ham in them except one with peanut butter and jam, so I ate that one. Gabriel thought that Kamara should have made sure that the kitchen knew I was a vegetarian and I told him that Vivien – whom Gabriel referred to as his “partner” (I didn’t ask in what way) - had been informed a couple of times as well. There was watermelon, biscuits and, best of all, a Kit Kat, so I couldn’t really complain about the lunch. The vervets were very interested in our lunch and we had to keep chasing them away. It wasn’t much fun as I’d liked to share some biscuits with them, if it weren’t because they can become aggressive. It was very hot and I wasn’t in a hurry since we’d spend the afternoon in the park.
It was so hot that I had to sit down in the landcruiser to try to get some shade. The buffaloes were lying under trees, but the giraffes where out and about everywhere. Gabriel had an idea about how the line of a tree branch would make a good photo. For any other of the guides I’ve had, to say a thing like that would have been as expected as a request to borrow my lip-gloss. We stopped at a couple of viewpoints. At one of them a hyrax came running with another hyrax after it. The chased hyrax disappeared and the chaser stopped to roll in the dust and pose for a photo. I was feeling pretty certain that we’d see rhinos when we suddenly were at Maasai gate and Gabriel just drove out of the park. I didn’t know what to say. I had wanted an afternoon game drive and it was not yet 3pm, but maybe I should have understood that when the starting time was changed to 9am the finishing time would be changed as well. If Kamara had been my guide I’d probably had started communicating better with him in the absence of Kiringai and I’d asked him to return to the park, but I’m not so sure of that either. I got a glimpse of Maasai Lodge and of a palatial house with a view into the park that according to Gabriel had been for sale for I don’t remember how much.
Back in town Gabriel stopped on Koinange because of the parking problems on Moktar Daddah. First he, most unusually, for a second tried to say “no thanks” to a tip. He gave me a couple of solid ice water bottles. The ice and the peanut butter give a hint of what nationality As You Like It mostly caters to. Back at the Terminal I fell asleep.
After a while there was a knock on my door. Nelson wanted to show me some jewellery samples. The only interesting item was a spiral bangle with small glass beads in different colours. Some of Nelson’s friends were at the Tuesday Maasai Market – which I always miss - near the Terminal. He asked me not to leave, as they would soon be at the hotel. I was in no mood for Nyamera Kenya Imports when all I wanted to do was to export myself to Kenya, but I had made some kind of promise. After a long wait the women arrived. They weren’t the same as the previous year and I don’t even think they were Kamba as Nelson spoke to them in Swahili. They spread out the jewellery all over my hot little room. There were no spiral bangles, but they would make some for me that would be ready on Thursday. I bought some jewellery at the asking price that was quite low, and then the women left.
I don’t know what I did in the evening, but I didn’t visit ZanzeBar. The only serious pre-trip advice I’d been given about how to be able to stay in Kenya had come from a blogger who told me to visit this bar frequented by members of parliament. I’d “just” have to seduce and marry one of them. I wouldn’t have known how to recognise an MP and I’d definitely not have known how to seduce him, and besides that, I don’t want to be married – especially not to a Kenyan politician. Anyway, to have something to write about, I could have checked out the place and had a glass of pineapple juice, but I wasn’t in the right mood.
Now some real stupidity: when I was planning this trip, I asked the director of a safari company with safari prices not within my budget (but probably not more expensive than As you Like It) what they would charge for an afternoon game drive in Nairobi NP and he told me he could take me there in his own car. I’d just have to pay for the park fees and petrol, as money wasn’t everything! Quite sensational! I thought about visiting the company’s office, but too many months had passed.
Nov 24th, 2008, 04:39 PM
#149
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Day 20 at last.
I hope the 7 rhino don't get poached while the ranger is sleeping off his alcohol.
I'm impressed you remember the exact location of a hippo from a few years back.
I say zeebra too, but I don't say Keenya.
I hope the 7 rhino don't get poached while the ranger is sleeping off his alcohol.
I'm impressed you remember the exact location of a hippo from a few years back.
I say zeebra too, but I don't say Keenya.
Nov 24th, 2008, 06:40 PM
#150
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nyamera,
you're still so young, late thirties! ann_nyc had some great suggestions. i particularly like the idea of flight attendant. i have two friends, one of whom started at age 48. training was short and simple; they both make good salaries and benes; and fly for free on all partner airlines.
but, i'm still voting for the novel (as in book) approach to pave your road to kenya. your writing is so full of character, characters and humor - fabulous!
enjoying your stupidity immensely,
anita
you're still so young, late thirties! ann_nyc had some great suggestions. i particularly like the idea of flight attendant. i have two friends, one of whom started at age 48. training was short and simple; they both make good salaries and benes; and fly for free on all partner airlines.
but, i'm still voting for the novel (as in book) approach to pave your road to kenya. your writing is so full of character, characters and humor - fabulous!
enjoying your stupidity immensely,
anita
Nov 25th, 2008, 01:46 PM
#151
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Lynn, fortunately I haven’t heard anything about poached rhino in Nairobi NP.
It was a croc!
I’m glad you don’t say Keenya.
Anita, flight attendant? It sounds like there would be lots of competition from young alert people. Though maybe I’d manage to keep quiet about seasickness pills at job interviews. If I were to train for a job I’d like something where I could become the best. I’d better start writing that novel.
I’m a high school teacher at the moment, btw. I thought they would be more mature, but as it’s a school with a sports profile some 98% of the pupils suffer from ADHD.
Thanks for your nice comments! I could think of so many nasty comments on this report …
It was a croc!
I’m glad you don’t say Keenya.
Anita, flight attendant? It sounds like there would be lots of competition from young alert people. Though maybe I’d manage to keep quiet about seasickness pills at job interviews. If I were to train for a job I’d like something where I could become the best. I’d better start writing that novel.
I’m a high school teacher at the moment, btw. I thought they would be more mature, but as it’s a school with a sports profile some 98% of the pupils suffer from ADHD.
Thanks for your nice comments! I could think of so many nasty comments on this report …
Nov 27th, 2008, 12:54 PM
#156
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Lynn, I need someone to plan for me so that I can avoid stupidity.
Leely, the report will definitely be finished before Christmas. There are just 3 ½ days left and I didn’t do anything at all during those last days, except having a manicure.
Leely, the report will definitely be finished before Christmas. There are just 3 ½ days left and I didn’t do anything at all during those last days, except having a manicure.
