Hi peeps! I've been off the radar for a while, so sit back and be prepared for a long one! (TWSS)

Following my eventful day in Nairobi, I had a quiet day chilling at the camp. While Hayley and Michael had headed out to sight-see, and Chris was en route to tackle Mt Kilimanjaro, Will and I took it easy: After their hectic whirlwind through Africa, Will was unaccustomed to taking it easy though, and we played some pool (I won't mention who won) and went on the zip-line before the owner told us off… apparently it was just for the non-grown-up children. Will's a rugby scrum-half so, by this time struggling to keep ourselves entertained, we tried playing some rugby with a football - but soon gave up on that. Before long it was raining, as it has been quite a bit in Kenya you'll be pleased to know (even in Africa!), and when Hayley returned they got their stuff ready to head homeward to the UK.

I had made friends with a Venezuelan biologist staying at the camp called Jose, and he was planning on taking advantage of the couple of days he had off work to explore Lake Nakuru before heading home. Realising that I would love some time away from Nairobi I decided I would join him on his excursion, and the next morning the two of us and a German guy called Michael grabbed a bus to Nakuru. Getting there with no plan except the name of a travel company from my Lonely Planet, which turned out to be closed on Sundays, we found another tour company called PESA Tours. Speaking with Peter, the owner there, we soon had a tour of the Lake Nakuru National Park booked as well as accommodation - at his house! After a challenging hike into the Menengai Crater - with Jose giving us some expert butterfly knowledge - we were taken to Peter's house where the guys would share a room and I would share the daughter's bedroom. The hospitality was incredible and I was so impressed with Peter's generosity opening his home to us strangers, along with a couple of volunteers who were also staying there, with his family cooking us breakfast and dinner.

We had a great tour around Lake Nakuru National Park the next day, and saw plenty of impala, zebra, giraffe, warthog, buffalo, reedbuck, waterbuck, baboon, flamingo, and were even lucky enough to see a lion! It was a fantastic day, and my Kenya-visit would never have been complete without a national park tour so I was happy to have joined Jose for the trip!

The next morning Peter took us to the bus station (after dropping his daughter off at the law-firm which she was interning at) and Jose, Michael, and I parted ways: I hopped on the matatu to Lake Naivasha. As usual, on arriving I got off the matatu and turned down the many offers for lifts, souvenirs for sale, etc, and headed blindly down a main street to get away from the bustle and get my bearings. Having asked for directions a few times, I gave in to an offer of a lift on a motorbike (I was reluctant, but figured it couldn't be much more dangerous than a matatu… right?) and got taken to Camp Carnelley's where I had booked a couple of nights' accommodation. Getting there around lunchtime, I hired a bike straight away and headed to Crater Lake - another dormant volcanic crater which had been advertised as a good hike! It was a hot, dusty hour-long ride, and I was glad to arrive at the gate. I headed straight up to the rim of the crater, where there was a marked-out path (well, arrows painted onto rocks) to follow all the way round. I stopped for lunch and peered down into the crater, where there was a lake (hence the name) and deer of some kind grazing in a clearing. It was so peaceful and as I collected my lunch-stuff and headed onwards, I was surprised to hear a distant rumble and dismissed it as a truck rumbling it's way through town. Soon enough I learned that I had been wrong - the rumble had been thunder and the heavens opened up above me! I hurriedly put on my waterproof (upon further inspection, "shower-proof" - there's clearly a difference!) coat and trousers and continued onward as I figured I'd come halfway and so may as well make it round. It was pouring down with rain, and I was re-writing the lyrics of "It's raining men" in my head, being none-too-pleasant about Mother Nature, as I started to feel harsh stings on my back. It felt like I was being whipped and I soon realised it was HAIL!! Soon after that I got to a place in the path where there was a sheer drop, and seeing the rock on the other side I realised it had broken off and the crack was too wide to jump… Exploring the options I realised I would have to turn back, and I started apologising profusely to Mother Nature for my slander - thank goodness there was nobody around as I was talking out loud at this point and would have been locked up in a mental institution had anyone overheard. I finally made it back to the gate, soaked to the bone, and managed to get a lift with a research group - along with the bike and a few other stranded cyclists - back most of the way. By then the rain had stopped, and I hung my soaking clothes out to dry. (Mother Nature clearly hadn't fully forgiven me though: just as I was digging in to dinner that evening the rain returned and re-drenched them!)

The next day I woke up fairly early (7ish), had a delicious breakfast of pancake with fried banana and honey, and headed to Hell's Gate National Park. I had rented the bike again and cycled around the national park in a daze - seeing giraffe, zebra, impala, and warthog, up close and from a bike was absolutely mind-blowing! -Although in stark contrast to Lake Nakuru NP, this time I was really hoping not to see a leopard! Getting back to Carnelley's that afternoon, I had a shower and headed to the pier that overlooks the lake. I had been told by Dion, my Dutch dorm-buddy, that there was a hippo who came close to the shore every evening around 6-ish. Sure enough, before long I saw a couple of eyes rise out of the water and a splash of wiggling ears: the unmistakable signs of a hippo! Not too bad pre-dinner entertainment, and I headed to dinner that night with a big smile on my face. Dion was there and I thanked him for his helpful tip and over dinner we shared travel stories. He is cycling from Cairo to Cape Town - at least most of the way - and had some great stories to tell of tiny towns and tribal people fascinated to see a white person!

After getting up early again, I set off for Mt Longonot - Dion had been there the day before so I knew exactly how to get there. A couple of matatus and a motorbike later, I was at the foot of the mountain having breakfast and getting some tips from the ranger. He told me it took about 5 hours to walk up to the rim, around it, and back down (Dion had taken 4 ½) and immediately I resolved to aim for 4 hours. With decisive steps I went through the gates of the national park and headed up the mountain, determinedly passing a group that had set off ahead of me. It was a stunning hike, with the summit of Mt Longonot overlooking the thick forest growing in the center of the crater, and the hills and smaller craters that gave away the dramatic volcanic history of the area. With a little imagination, it was easy to see the entire valley glowing with lava rushing down through the forests and across the plains below, and I was relieved that the volcano had been dormant since the 1840s. I marched through and finished the hike in just over four hours, and felt some satisfaction at the park ranger's surprise at seeing me again so soon! The group I had passed were sitting at the place I'd had breakfast, sharing a bottle of Jim Beam and remarking at my visible determination: they had reached the rim of the crater, enjoyed the view, and decided there was no way they would be going round it. They were volunteering at a nearby children's centre and were enjoying their day off with a local friend, and were kind enough to give me a lift back to Naivasha. My time in the towns and craters of the Rift Valley had definitely won me over, and on my return to Nairobi the next morning, I felt I had been let in on the true beauty of the area. Not even the chaos of finding the right matatu to get me home from the city centre could shake the zen-like state of mind that Nakuru and Naivasha had instilled in me, and I returned to the familiarity of the Wildebeest Camp with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.

I only had a couple of days left in Nairobi, so I spent one going to the supermarket to stock up on supplies for my bus-ride to Tanzania - it may sound odd to spend a whole day doing that but the walk was a 3-hour round trip. My last day I spent doing the touristy stuff that the Karen neighbourhood that I was staying in had to offer. I rented a bike (inspired by the fun I had cycling in Naivasha) and went to the nearby elephant orphanage where you watch the baby elephants being fed. I then headed on to the giraffe center, where you get to feed the giraffes yourself and even be "kissed" by one if you like. (I turned this down as the long blue slobbery tongues put me off - I have standards after all…) I skipped the Karen Blixen museum, but did go to a nearby cafe for lunch before returning to camp to pack up.

By the time I got on the bus to Tanzania early the next morning I had reconciled my relationship with Kenya: although we got off to a troubled start, we became friends in the end and the country has so much variety, of which I only saw a fraction. I was ready to leave, but not without the knowledge that I would come back one day to see the rest of the country and spend time to really absorb all that it has to offer!