Sunday 17 June 2012
Monday 11 June 2012
A Holiday in Kenya
Our mental 36 hour truck trip down from Moyale had left us
10 kilometers north of the Equator in the small town of Nanyuki. After arriving
at half past nine the previous evening we had managed to find a place to stay
and had enjoyed a comfortable nights rest. We thus woke up the following
morning reenergized, ready to take on the day and make our way to a little
retreat in the foot hills of Mount Kenya that had very kindly been made
available to us through a contact of a contact whom we had met in Addis Ababa.
After stocking up on food and funds in the quaint, quiet and colourful little town we decided to set
off. I soon found myself south of the equator for the first time since I had
left home and after a wonderful morning’s cycle with amazing views of the
hugely impressive, snowcapped Mount Kenya we found ourselves entering the gates
of Karichota where we would be staying for the following week.
We had been invited to make ourselves feel at home and that
week we certainly did. After the intensity of Ethiopia and our epic journey
down from Moyale, Karichota was exactly what our fatigued bodies required. We
caught up on sleep, were cooked amazing meals by Robi (a student staying at the
retreat and studying the plants in the area) and were allowed ample time to
read and relax. I also took the opportunity to do a bit of drawing for the
first time since school and managed to do some incredible bird watching with
the neighbour who had
lived in the area for some 30 years and had an astounding knowledge of the
flora and fauna within the region. We also got treated to an awesome guided
walk in the Mount Kenya National Park which not only plays host to the second
highest mountain in Africa but also a magnificent forest which is apparently home
to some 600 elephant. Unfortunately we didn’t come across any on that particular
day but we did get to see Dik-dik, the Black and White Colobus Monkey and a huge
variety of birds including two great sightings of Narina Trogon which I was
rather excited about. It was a wonderful week which inevitably had to come to
an end and it was then time to mount our noble steeds and progress towards our
next destination.
We had three days of truly special cycling as we headed for
Nakuru. It quickly became evident that the rainy season had arrived in Kenya as
we made our way through a magnitude of contrasting but equally magnificent lush
green terrains. The mornings often comprised of clear blue skies and as the
days progressed the clouds would build up to eventually culminate in incredible
formations. These formations would often let through beams of sunlight and when
coupled with the blue skies and lush green environment it made for some
exquisite settings. In addition to this we were welcomed by the friendly
smiles, waves and chants of the locals who seemed more than happy that we were
travelling through their beautiful country. The third day’s cycle stood out as
one of my favorites of the trip so far. That morning we decided to stop off and
picnic at the awesome Thompsons Falls which were particularly impressive at
this time of the year. After cooking up a delicious breakfast feast of
chapatti, eggs, onions, tomatoes and avo we got going again and found ourselves
heading down into the Great Rift Valley. We had spectacular views from the top
and a fantastic descent which seemed to continue all the way into Nakuru. We
had arranged to stay with one of Busters old school friends and her family and
once we arrived we were shown the homely cottage that we had been allocated and
were once again told to make ourselves feel at home. We were more than happy
accept the offer and settled right in. After unpacking our things we joined the
Robinsons up at their beautiful home for a braai and a few cold beers and after
hearing that there could potentially be some fishing on the cards the following
day we decided that another night was most definitely in order.
Two days and a somewhat unsuccessful fishing trip later we
decided that we were going to abandon the bikes and head into Nairobi using
public transport. Not only would this allow us to forgo the horrendous roads
and shocking drivers that we were bound to encounter upon entering the city but
it would also save us having to back track and do the same route twice as we
planned to go back via Nakuru on our way out. We hadn’t planned on spending
much time in Nairobi as we had arrived with the sole intention to secure
Ugandan visas. However, once we were welcomed into the beautiful home of the
hugely hospitable Blake family (who had kindly offered to host us without ever
having met any of us) we found it increasingly difficult to uproot ourselves. In
no time at all we had surpassed the two days that we had initially intended
staying. It was only on day six, after enjoying several delicious three course
meals, good South African wine, a day talking to scholars at Peponi Junior
Primary, experiencing a raucous party at
the over landers camp and finally a hangover from hell that we decided to make
our way out of the Kenyan capital.
From Nairobi we had arranged another stop over at the
beautiful Fisherman’s Camp on Lake Naivasha. We had struck lucky once again as
the camp was run by cousins of some of our good family friends. Nigel and Sarah
were incredibly kind to offer us substantially discounted rates to stay in a
bungalow overlooking the magnificent lake. The following day we decided to take
full advantage of the bikes they had for hire (I guess it’s a bit ironic that
we had to hire bikes whilst on a cycle trip through Africa but ours were still
in Nakuru) and cycle through the nature reserve that runs alongside the lake.
We were fortunate to see a variety of game including Eland, Zebra, Giraffe, Impala,
Hartebeest, Warthog and Gazelle but nothing could have prepared us for what we
encountered after about 15km of cycling. As the road forked down toward the
lake we noticed a tremendous amount of pink contrasting against the dark water
and blue skies. As we continued we noticed the extraordinary mass of flamingos
which had congregated on the lake side. We cycled down to within twenty meters
of the quarter million flamingos and with no one else in sight decided to lay
down the tarp and settle in for an afternoon picnic. Whilst enjoying the
idyllic setting a couple cheeky monkeys caught us by surprise and made off with
one of our prize pineapples and half a sandwich that Chen had just taken pride in making. I have no idea
how the bloody thing scurried up the tree so quickly with a piece of fruit
bigger than itself but it was quite a sight and it definitely added to a day of
vast entertainment.
After two nights at Naivasha we thought it prudent to make
our way back to Nakuru as Tom and Matt only had three weeks until they were due
to start their volunteering in Rwanda. We made it back without any hassles and
managed to get our things ready for the road the following day. After getting
some food in our stomachs we once again mounted our steeds and made our way
towards the Aldama Ravine. It was awesome to be back on the bike, the roads
were quiet, the people were pleasant and the scenery was simply spectacular. We
had a bit of gradual climbing but nothing hectic and after crossing an equator
sign for the umpteenth time we came across a bunch of locals and decided to
stop and find out whether we were still heading in the desired direction. Thankfully
we were and it was rather coincidental that one of them had just returned to
Kenya after a 15 year farming stint in South Africa. He offered us a place to
stay for the evening which we unfortunately had to decline because it was still
early in the day but was more than willing to share advice for the trip that
lay ahead and finally after wishing us well on our journey we said our
goodbyes. We continued up through the ravine and managed to find a fantastic
little restaurant that overlooked the valley below. We satisfied our appetites
with a decent burger and chips and replenished our water supplies before
subjecting ourselves to the heat of the day and contending with some fairly
challenging climbs. By four that afternoon we had decided to call it a day and
with no towns in sight decided to take refuge in a police compound. With the
weather looking ominous we asked the sergeant in charge whether it would be
possible to pitch our tents under some sort of shelter and in no time at all we
were escorted to a building containing old jail cells and told that it was ours
for the night. It wasn’t exactly our coziest barracks but it was perfectly
adequate and the kindness and constant flow of officers who came for a friendly
chat further enhanced our positive attitudes towards the Kenyan people and made
for a really enjoyable evening.
The following morning we were up early and reaching Kapsabet
was the day’s goal. Some of the officers came to say good bye and a bit of
small talk prompted one particularly chatty officer to give us his recollection
of being targeted as a government official during the previous elections which
had ended in conflict. It was a fascinating story told in a manner you’d expect
to hear around a fire in a small Kenyan village-with vigor and enthusiasm that
would be difficult for anyone to replicate. Anyway we eventually set off and
after reaching a town that was appropriately named Hilltop we stopped off for a
refreshing cup of tea. Not long after we got going again we found ourselves
experiencing conflicting emotions of frustration and awe as we were forced to
traverse appalling roads that made their way through magnificent tea
plantations glistening in the sun. It turned out to be a day that required us
to concentrate on the traffic, the roads and the scenery a bit more than usual
but we reached our destination, sat down to enjoy a tusker and hoped that the
following day into Mumsia would be a little less demanding.
Our hopes were founded as we awoke to a beautiful Sunday
morning and headed out onto the deserted roads. We passed through a few
fantastic little villages and after about 20 kilometers we
arrived at the turn off that we had been advised to take. For the first time on
the trip we made our way off the tar and onto the gravel to travel through the
Kakamega forests, one of the only tropical rainforests remaining in Kenya. It
turned out to be a magical 20km of gravel road tunneled by dense rain forest on
the left and the right and towering trees that formed a canopy above. We
thoroughly enjoyed the shade, sounds and sights that this extraordinary forest
presented and found ourselves a little disappointed that it couldn’t have gone
on for a bit longer. We pushed on though and after a further 45km we reached th
little town of Mumsia moments before the heavens opened. That night we managed
to watch what will most probably go down in history as one of the most
enthralling climaxes to a Premiership season. I’ll never know quite how City
managed to clench the title in those dying seconds but I’ll never really care
because to be honest I (like everyone else in Mumsia other than my fellow
cyclists) was just super stoked that it hadn’t gone to United.
The next day marked our last day in Kenya. We had a
beautiful flat cycle through the country side which was now covered in fields
of soaring sugar cane and we were able to coast into the border town of Busia.
There we found a really cool little restaurant to enjoy our final Kenyan meal.
As I sat there I reflected on the month we had been in the country and couldn’t
help but feel that it had been a bit of a holiday. We hadn’t done a huge amount
of cycling and the cycling we had done had been a breeze compared to the
previous two countries. The weather had been kind, the scenery had been
magnificent, the roads and terrain weren’t hugely challenging and the people
had been phenomenal. Initially I found myself thinking that another two weeks
would have been wonderful because perhaps that would have given us time to get
down to the coast and up to lake Turkana but I quickly realized that it wasn’t
a huge problem because I will most definitely be treating myself to another
holiday in Kenya, hopefully in the not too distant future…
Mother Trucker
Our final day in Ethiopia had been fairly eventful. Tom had
run out of petrol 25km before the border, we had arrived at the border two days
earlier but unfortunately we had run out of money and with no ATM in the town
it made getting petrol and indeed getting to him a somewhat difficult task. Thankfully
we managed to find a local who understood our predicament and was willing to
lend us the required amount so that we could get Tom to the border and with a
bit of luck into Kenya. Once we had eventually got Tom and Frank into Moyale
and over the Ethiopian side of the border the official told us that the Kenyan
side of the border was closed which meant that we would be stuck in no man’s
land for the evening. Fortunately we managed to negotiate and plead with the
official who finally obliged and stamped us through. By this stage it was getting
dark and after all the effort of getting Frank over the border, he once again
decided that we wasn’t ready to take on another country and stubbornly refused
to start. This meant that Tom had to push him all the way up the battered dirt
road that led into town whilst the rest of us went ahead and attempted to
locate a viable place to spend the night.
Anyway as the saying goes, all’s well that ends well and a
couple hours later we had left our bikes and luggage in a little hotel room,
had a bite to eat and were enjoying our first cold tusker beer in a bar that we
had been directed to by an officer in true military fashion, “go straight and
at the end of the road deploy a right.”
The following morning we were up early to arrange a truck to
get us from Moyale down south to Isiolo. We had been warned that the roads were
in horrendous condition which would make them hugely challenging on a bicycle
and simply impassible for Frank-who at this stage would have struggled to get
going on a race track. Furthermore that particular stretch of road was
notorious for bandits otherwise known as ‘shifters’ who weren’t exactly the
type of people we wanted to come across as we had heard stories that they
weren’t shy of opening fire on passing trucks.
To our surprise we found that some of the border town locals
(known as fixers) who had helped us with our negotiations the previous day and
whom we had conveyed our intentions to, had once again come to the fore and managed
to arrange a truck for us which was waiting outside our hotel on that gloomy,
rainy Saturday morning. The driver wasted no time in getting our bags and bikes
into the back of his truck that was already laden with massive bags of kidney
beans. It was then time to get Frank on board which was no easy feat. It took
all the man power available to hoist the massive old Czech Slovakian motorbike
up above our heads and hand it over (like a baton in a relay race) to the guys
standing on the trucks tail gate. They then had to reposition themselves whilst
at the same time maneuvering the hefty mass of metal through a tight gap and eventually
plonking it on top of the bags of beans.
Finally we were all set for our trip. Thanks to our early
start we had been the first to occupy the truck and managed to make ourselves as
comfortable as possible for the six hundred kilometer trip which we had been
told would take roughly ten hours. Just before we set off we were surprised to
see more people piling into the back. By the time we departed we had an extra
eight people in the back with us, another five or so sitting on the roof of the
truck and who knows how many packed into the front. This meant that the spaces
that we had previously chosen to occupy for the journey had declined considerably
but spirits were still high and I was happy to have momentum that was not a
result of peddling for the first time on the trip.
The trip turned out to be quite an experience. Within the
first hour we hit a section of the road that came dangerously near to toppling
over the entire truck. Frank became airborne, defying gravity and very nearly
landing on top of Tom and Matt whilst the bicycles also made a leap forward
despite the ropes holding them down and landed within inches of my head. The
four of us all looked a bit shaken and shocked but judging from the unruffled
look of the locals it would be something we would have to get used to. Not long
after we ploughed into another section of road that sent us off our bean bags
and forced the truck to come to a shuddering halt. Not surprisingly the
suspension had given way which got the driver and his team hustling and hammering
away and after about an hour’s delay we were once again making slow but steady
progress along the bumpy excuse of a road.
After another couple hours of bouncing about we came to a
halt and to our relief found out that it was time for lunch. We were given
enough time to stretch our legs and grab some food before it was time to set
off again. Not long after our little lay off we heard an explosion that sounded
a bit like a twelve bore shot gun round. Thankfully for us it wasn’t shifters
opening fire on us but the back right tyre which had blown. Once again the
driver and his crew were forced into action. The sun was pretty much at its
hottest and the team had their work cut out for them. Not only did they have to
get the blown tyre off the truck, but they had to get the old tyre off the rim,
place a new tyre onto the rim, put a new tube inside the new tyre and get the
compressor to inflate the new tube. Anyway once this process was finally complete
they realized that the new tube was in fact not so new and had a puncture of
its own which meant that the entire process had to be repeated. It was a solid
three hours later before we were once again on the road heading south.
The road deteriorated further but we managed to reposition
ourselves from the back that was getting ridiculously dusty and found a seat on
the roof where we could enjoy the scenery and serenity of the Kenyan bush veld
in the late afternoon. As the sun slowly set and the light faded away we were
treated to an awesome electrical storm in the horizon. Whilst we enjoyed the
display of lightning bolts in the distance, our truck was having a torrid time
negotiating the massive boulders that scattered the road surface. It was surely
just a matter of time before something gave way and inevitably it did. Our
third breakdown, a mechanical fault, occurred at about ten o’clock that
evening. Once again the crew assembled and miraculously managed to get the
truck back into operation. At about two that morning, after roughly sixteen
hours on the road we had finally reached Masabit which was roughly our half way
mark as well as the town where the driver decided that he needed to take a
break. So whilst he secretly went off to find himself a hotel for the night, we
were left to tuck ourselves into our sleeping bags in a struggle for comfort
and warmth upon the bags of beans. On the bright side though, we hadn’t
expected our R300 fare to include a night’s accommodation on the truck, so I
guess that was a bit of a bonus…
Anyway at seven o’clock the following morning we were once
again on the move. Just as we had done
the previous day we decided to take up our positions on the roof which allowed
us the opportunity to witness a wonderful sun rise, a variety of birds, a lot
of camels and the odd elephant. After three hours on the roof the trip
surpassed the 24 hour mark and although the four of us were filthy, deprived of
sleep, fairly peckish and still a good few hundred kilometers from our
destination we remained in high spirits-enjoying our excursion which had
transformed into quite an adventure. A further three hours later the driver
decided that a lunch break was on the cards and to our surprise and relief we
noticed that we only had another 500 or so meters of gravel before the road converted
to tarmac-which was a glorious sight.
So after enjoying a lunch of chapatti and mixed vegetables
(which was a welcomed change to injera which we had lived off for the previous
six weeks in Ethiopia) we were once again atop the truck and motoring along the
newly constructed road. We were struck with a similar sensation that one feels
just after getting their braces removed, a wonderful feeling of smoothness and
comfort. It was a really pleasant change, no longer bouncing around and we
naively assumed that the remainder of the trip would be plain sailing and that
we would be arriving at our destination in no time at all…
Unfortunately that was not to be the case. After roughly an
hour we had once again come to a halt on the road side with the crew hammering
away at something below the truck. It turned out that something had gone
horribly wrong with the drive shaft which meant another delay of over an hour.
When we eventually got going again we were down to three gears and a top speed
of what we on the back assumed was no faster than 50km an hour. This was not
exactly ideal considering that we still had about 250 kilometers to
go.
Anyway at least the rattling that we had come accustomed to
on the gravel roads had subsided substantially which meant that we were able to
converse with some of our fellow passengers. After struggling a bit with the language
barrier in Ethiopia it was also hugely satisfying to find that most Kenyans
have a solid grasp of English, a notable consequence of their colonial error. It
allowed us to have some interesting conversations about the reasons that we
found ourselves on the back of the truck as well as finding out a little bit
more about the country in which we would be spending the next month of our
lives. As a result time past by fairly quickly and we soon found ourselves
getting a bit chilly as the sun set and darkness fell for the second time on
this extraordinary journey. We all shared what little food we had left and made
ourselves as cozy as possible using our jackets, sleeping bags and even
tarpaulins.
At about half past nine that evening, after just less than
36 hours on the back of the truck we finally reached the town of Nanyuki which
marked the end of the trip for me and Buster. Tom had no option but to carry on
to Nairobi where he could get a mechanic to work on Frank and Chen had kindly
offered to accompany him for the rest of the journey. After offloading our
bikes, bags and battered bodies we found ourselves wondering the dark streets
in search of some shelter. Thankfully we stumbled across a decent looking hotel
that turned out to be reasonably priced. It was a pleasant surprise to find
that we had booked into a place that possessed hot showers, cold beers, good
food, comfortable beds and even dstv. So after our eventful trip we managed to
clean ourselves off, replenish our stomachs, laugh about the experience over a
cold beer whilst catching up on the weekend’s super 15 highlights and after all
that retire to a comfy night’s sleep… What more could we have hoped for?
Saturday 2 June 2012
Kenya
Welcome to Kenya |
The impressive Thompsons Falls
Looking down into the Great Rift Valley
Heading our for the day at Lake Naivasha
Our Picnic spot with the Flamingos in the background
A panoramic of the Rift Valley
Our views as we descended towards Nakuru
A view of about a quarter million flamingos
The green contrasting against the pink and blue was quite spectacular
The first attempt at fixing our trucks tyre
Our Bungalow at Fisherman's Camp at Lake Naivasha
Chen and Bust progressing after crossing the equator
One of the small villages as we made our way toward Kapsabet
The views just before Marsabit
Views the morning after setting off from the police station
More stunning views of the Rift Valley
The skies and lush green terrain made for some exquisite ssettings
Bit of magnificent countryside and fertile farm lands
Kids coming to say hi as we arrived in Kapsabet
The blow out that cost us a few hours
Arriving in Marsabit just before the heavens opened
Our seats on top of the truck
The gravel road finally transformed into tarmac
Karichota in the foot hills of Mount Kenya
Chen and Bust climbing up a hill with Mount Kenya poking through the clouds in the background
Crossing the equator for the first time outside Nanyuki
The snowcapped Mount Kenya early one morning
Reaching the Great Rift Valley
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