28.10.2009

I hate leaving the shamba.

It was raining, cold and miserable when we left, and the bus was leaking and my ass got as wet as my spirit got crushed. Getting to Mombasa was actually a joy after this and this time we saw the city in a very different light. Now that the culture shock has passed there's really nothing to dislike, it's just a small town with plenty of shops to get lost in and a few touristy locales to unwind in. We picked the train tickets from Abdul's brother (thanks for helping us with those Abe, now please stop calling me 4am in the morning, I know you miss me) and headed off to a cafe to have lunch. After a suprisingly tasty bean stew we went by the shopping mall to pick up stuff after which we were ready for our legendary Iron Snake Of Africa Adventure!

...

Nah.

The train is a dump, filled with people who have too much money and are too white with too big a reading glasses. We sat across a guy during dinner, and I don't know what the hell his problem was but as soon as we were seated in the same table as him he asked the waiter why we had to be seated there: "There's plenty of room here", the talking toilet seat proclaimed, while wiping off his Empire State Building sized reading goggles. I thought for a moment whether I should tell Google Goggles there that we were just that drawn to his unbelievably mesmerizing nose hair, which beckoned us from across the room to be seated across them. I decided to leave him and his beacon-like nasal hair alone, and concentrate on my dinner (soup, stew and fruit salad).

Food was overpriced, so was the train, but it was ok, at least it was an experience. On that note, I can't wait to try the trains in India. Until then I'm fairly convinced that 64 bucks for a train that takes too long to reach it's destination isn't the best way to transport yourself from Mombasa to Nairobi. Live and learn.

I'd write more about the train but as always, I'm lazy and I'd rather concentrate on more positive things, like the fact that I did get enough sleep on the train, and the breakfast was suprisingly good, and the beer reasonably priced (1,5€, or 150ksh).

Footloose saw giraffes and antilopes this morning while stuffing beans to our mouths. Over and out!

29.10.2009

The cold misty morning seems to seep right through your bones. A dog howls, a raven croaks... there's a not-so-silent thud coming from the roof where the mango decides to fall, waking me up with a great sense of paranoia. Milimani backpackers; only 2 kilometres away from the centre of what is considered the most dangerous city in Africa, Nairobi. And today, were supposed to go there, get something done, get out alive. I think about the prospect of getting robbed and stabbed, and come to the conclusion that life is way too boring to die in your own home. I'd rather die a warrior than slip on a rug after taking a crap and die with my pants around my ankles. Yes, a very sophisticated way to kick the bucket. I have a breakfast with the missus and off we go.

15 minutes into walking around the centre, disappointment. No armed robberies, no carjacking... not even a petty pickpocket. After contemplating the reputation of the city I decide that there must be very specific boundaries in which the city could be considered safe, and where it isn't. Every square meter of downtown seems to be filled with security guard and police presence. Walking here is (to us) no more different than walking around Naples' railway station in the evening. Actually, even that is probably more dangerous.

Nairobi is a very lively city, with everything you need within a 600-by-600-meter area, boundaries formed by city hall way, moi avenue, moktar daddah street and uhuru highway. Banks, airlines, supermarkets, movie theaters, poodle-salesmen... every little thing you can think of is right here. We went around and bought a bunch of stuff, including a a Carles Dickens novel made entirely out of recycled paper (see, I told you they had everything). The skyscrapers and office buildings make this very effectively a very non-african looking city, with millions of people running back and forth in their suits, blazers and other less sexy outfits. I'd write more but seriously, if you've ever been in a big city there's really nothing to tell you. On a final note, you're more likely to get a car bumper lodged up your ass than getting stabbed, these crazy Nairobians drive like hyperactive bunnyrabbits on crack.

Now, the place we're staying in on the other hand, is very nice and non-urban. Milimani Backpackers, while nothing compared to the shamba, is still an adequate place with a nice fireplace, reasonably good food and friendly staff. We were supposed to stay in one of their permanent tents, but got kicked out because someone had booked it, apparently. Next time let us know before we book the place for 2 nights, okay??? Now we have to stay in a 8-person dorm and like all of you who have been following our adventures, you know we HATE dorms (to add insult to injury, it's also more espensive than the tent, as well as the bungalow we slept in in Lamu!). Ah well, the beer is 120ksh so it's not all bad. We'll see how this goes.

Footloose is afraid of the prospect of getting car parts stuck somewhere where they don't belong. Over and out.