|
Home
Diary
Topics
| |
| After breakfast and personal devotions, we continued to paint the
doors and their frames. Unfortunately, some of the frames we had already undercoated and
glossed had since had extra beading added. Communication continued to be a problem
throughout, creating a number of frustrating situations. |
 After lunch, we headed to the Giraffe Centre for our first real
tourist moment – a luxury afforded by the day’s delay in travelling to Garsen.
We saw the warthogs and fed the giraffes, before going on a ‘nature trail’. We
acquired a knowledgeable local guide, who worked at the centre. He assured us that we
would get lost without him, but asked for no payment. Knowing from the advertising that there were
178 different species of bird in the sanctuary, I asked if our guide could point some of
them out. Looking at his watch, he informed us that the birds were all at the other side
of the sanctuary at 3.00 in the afternoon. I asked what kind of birds were there. He
replied that there were ‘many, many’ kinds of birds. A little later, we could
hear a buzzing noise. I asked what the buzz was. The guide assured me he had already said
they were at the other side of the sanctuary at this time. A quick glance at the smiles
behind me left me in no doubt that there was no point in pushing the point –
‘buzz’, not ‘birds’. Still, we were left with a few running jokes for
the rest of the trip. (We later saw the beehive that gave rise to the buzz.) |
 
  
|
| After changing traveller’s cheques, we headed back to
Sheepfold, where we gave Becky 17000 Kenyan Shillings each (just under £170). This would
allow her to book our safari for us, while we were away in Garsen, although we hoped to
receive change on return. |
| After a late meal, we hurried to Nairobi bus station by matatu
(small Kenyan minibus). One of our two matatus took the wrong road and was promptly
rescued by the other driver. Who knows where we would have ended up otherwise? It was late
and dark as we waited with Tom, our Kenyan escort, in Nairobi bus station, huddled
together, rejecting beggars and touts, and guarding our all-too-obvious stack of
rucksacks. The hold of the bus was filled with coconuts on arrival, rather than luggage,
and took quite some time to offload. |
| We travelled through the night, trying at first to decide if the
road we were tearing up the middle of was just one carriage of a dual carriageway or not.
After all, this was the main road between Kenya’s two largest cities. It soon became
clear, however, that we were simply playing a game of chicken with oncoming vehicles. I
managed to sleep better than most, despite the sudden lurches, blaring horn, loud music
(Phil Collins), bright lights going on and off, and constant unscheduled stops –
probably caused by police roadblocks. |
| I did wake briefly at one point as the bus swerved violently and
skidded, braking hard. I opened my eyes to see a lioness slowly padding across the road,
just in front of the bus, well lit by the bus headlights. Apparently, the rest of the team
missed it, and thinking we were going to crash, found their minds drifting back to
previous accidents they had been in. To me it was a brilliant sighting of a lion during a
brief interlude in my sleep. To others, it was a terrifying near-death experience.
Different perspectives played quite an important part in our later experiences. The
preacher at the Youth service had asked if we were ready to die. |
|
