You get a peculiar feeling that everything is in some crazy way run to an English model, even down to road signs, road markings (Where there are any at all), number plates, advertising hoardings, buidings etc The airport feels like it has been trapped in an unreal sixties England. All most odd.
The strangely disjointed and slightly mad attempts to negotiate a taxi fare, and hotel accommodation were followed by the jolt of seeing a giraffe (I kid you not) at the side of the airport road. This, followed by the insane (but I found out later perfectly normal for Kenya) driving technique of the matatu driver, as he gave us an informal introduciotn to the city, and it's grottier side...of the red-light district, only heightening the realisation that yes, we had entered another world altogether.
Somehow the three of us, Neil, Tanja & I, managed to get some sleep, depite the copeting sound systems of a number of bars below, which was immediately followed, as I can confirm from experience, by all the kitchens in the same bars firring up at the same time, with baskets of cutlery, trays of pans, glasses and goodness only knows what else, being crashed about to the accompanying not so quiet conversations of the staff. On top of the paranoia of the new-to-malarial-country arrivees, viz the slightest buzz of any kind of insects, and the half dozen or so roaches sharing our room, this meant about two or three hours sleep only, great.
The room was fairly clean, if extremely basic, and apparently secure, except for the roaches as I said, and sufficed for a first night. There was an en-suite shower, (& passable loo) which you could have used to strip pine if you had the inclination, both from it's severe extremes of temperature and the sheer force of the water...The small hours were finished off with Neil's Jamesons Irish Whiskey, and a nice bottle of M&S Scotch, thanks Jacks, together with the few tall stories that people are sometimes wont to swap at such times, before seeking out sleep.
Nairobi in the morning sun was another strange experience, and one which I would really only wish to repeat in company. NOt that I felt directly threatened or anything, but it wasn't a huge surprise to realise just how far out of my depth I was. The guide books all say go to Nairobi, get out into the rest, and only go back when you're ready and able to. I heartily endorse this view, you really need a few days, if it's your first time, to get a bit in tune with the atmosphere, and to an extent yourself, before the exposure to so much at once can be comfortably borne. Otherwise, especially if you're an untanned white, with a rucksack, or similar, then you stand out like the proverbial sore-thumb, and make an attractive easy target...unless of course, you're okay with that then get out ASAP.
The people who had brought us to the Terminal Hotel (Kid you not) were essentially from the Savuka Safari Company , who had been booked by, I think Neil & Tanja, it could have been the other couple, who's names elude me.. (I'm sorry but they didn't really make that much impression on me) They, the matatu people that is, seemed to have an informal arrangement with various hotels whereby each paid the other commision for referrals, the Terminal was needless to say pleased to greet five of us, instead of the two who had actually booked, then so were the matau people too...The upshot of all this was that the Safari/Taxi people turned on The Big Sell first thing for our (their) benefit. Neil & Tanja booked, I didn't, explaining the purpose of my visit instead.
I had written to "A" to confirm the details of my trip, on the basis that we had, albeit extremely informally, already discussed late November/early December as a good time to travel, when she came over to the UK in summer. The letter was (probably slightly) incorrectly addressed, to Box 853 I think, instead of Box 852, (Doh!) and hence had never actually arrived. I'd said I'd ring home, and her, on arrival to try to establish contact...This didn't quite work out, so she had no idea I was there....
The Taxi/Safari people offered, for a price of course, to drive me up to Limuru/Tigoni on the off-chance that we could find either her, or another vet, or simply someone, perhaps at the Kentmere Club, who could help me in my search, and so after they had insisted on giving me the spiel about just how jolly good their safaris really were....off we went.
The various sights that accompanied the drive out of Nairobi, and north, together with the admonsihment of the driver to keep the door locked at all times, made for an interesting journey....The colours, noise, filth, mad traffic, donkeys with carts laiden to the skies, coffee and tea plantations, mansions and hovels, and the madness that makes up Red Hill & Banan Hill, were a huge assault on my senses, and way too much to take in at one go.
We found the Kentmere Club (From the guide books & their telephone directory) on the side of the Limuru Road, and pulled in to the guarded car-park. I went to the reception and briefly explained who I was trying to find, though not necessarily why, with some assistance from the driver. This was my first real taste of Kiswahili, which might as well have been Welsh for all the sense I could make of it. However we didn't make much progress here it has to be said, in spite of everyone's best efforts..Instead the suggestion was made to go try someone in Tigoni....
So, back on the road. After another mile or so we came ot some shops/tin shacks on the roadside, and asked for some help. The first directed us in the wrong direction completely, a fact which naturally we would never have gleaned but for the fact that the man who directed us probably couldn't have directed himself out of a cardboard box. The second sent us in another direction, and it was only as we started to think that this too was somewhat fishy, and began to turn around in a lane end, that I spotted the small (foot square or so) wooden sign that proclaimed the location of "A"'s surgery, partially hidden by long grass and weeds across this very junction....
Unfortunately, although I'd explained my search/visit to the driver, I hadn't really broached the need for tact....so when we pulled up at "A"'s house, about 3/4 of a mile further down this lane, and were met by the appearance of George, a very tall handsome african from an out-building, (which I subsequently discovered to be the actual surgery, and furthermore containing "A", up to her elbows in a series of spayings...) he was far from happy about a strange & unannounced car pulling in and hooting...He asked what we were about, the answer that "A"'s son had arrived was probably the very last thing she (or he, for that matter) would have been expecting. This, as one may expect, somewhat compromised the confidentiality of the nature of things...Oops! Sorry!
I ought to add, by way of foot-note, that the Big Sell on the safari never really did let up, and byt the time we arrived I had been offered a 10% discount, especially if I made sure to tell everyone back home about wat a jolly good time I'd had...Sorry guys, points for effort, but I really did have other things on my mind.
1 comment:
This particular posting was rather amusing. You truly have a wit about you that is captivating. I started smiling, then went to a chuckle or two when I read "Doh!" about the address mishap. Rather comical, you are.
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