Rachael's December 2008 - Part 2! - Lamu, Kenya Travel Blog

Rachael's December 2008 - Part 2! - Lamu, Kenya Travel Blog

part of the story...
We arrived on Manda island (Lamu has no landing strip/airport) about 5pm and as soon as we got off the plane we could feel the wonderful heat. We walked down the steps from the plane and ambled slowly over to another area, taking in the landscape. Our luggage was taken from the plane onto carts and pulled by men over to where we were waiting and the carts were unloaded. People then just picked up their bags and wandered off. What followed would be the best and most surreal airport transfer I have ever known. We walked away from the landing strip about 10 minutes towards the jetty, where long motor boats were waiting for us to take us to Lamu island. The trip over was pretty dreamlike; the sun was not far off setting and most people on the boat were silently stunned. We gently chugged across the stretch of water absorbing the warm sun and relative humidity. As we approached, I can only describe what looked like a random location from Pirates of the Caribbean crossed with a more modern market scene from Indiana Jones. The architecture along the seafront was sort of Arabic/Portuguese/Spanish/Moorish/Indian (you know what I mean?), I don’t know how else to describe it! There were lots of people who appeared to be waiting at the jetty. We clambered from the boat with the help of the boatmen onto the slippery steps and climbed up. Arriving on Lamu was a sort of pleasant assault of the senses; what with the eye-catching architecture, beautiful sunset scenery, what appeared to be a throng of people (who quite obviously and intriguingly lived completely different lives and cultures to me), bobbing moored dhows (traditional Swahili sailing boats) and donkeys (donkey is the main form of transport on the island, there are only 2 motor vehicles I think, one of which is the district officer’s, and a tractor).
arriving on manda island
arriving on manda island

Various people were asking if we needed help with bags and offering to show us the way to our hotel, but thankfully we had bumped into someone who worked at our hotel when we arrived at the airport, so the others sort of backed off (they work on a commission basis I believe). The man from our hotel carried our heavier bags the 10 minute walk to where we would be staying. On the way he pointed out a traditional wedding dance between 2 men, who were sort of fighting (in an amicable, look-at-us sort of way) with wooden sticks (maybe mangroves?) to music whilst onlookers made a circle around them to watch. Walking to the hotel from the sea front was fascinating, a little like stepping back in time; walking through a maze of narrow winding streets and thinking I’d never be able to find my way back to the sea front (though of course it was second nature within a few days). There were gutters running down the side of the narrow streets for drainage (though not sewage, thankfully) and sometimes the gutters ran across the paths so you had to be careful where you were watching, especially at night. The walls were partly made from coral. In the shade of the houses it was much cooler. What with donkey poo all over the place, the smell was quite interesting but unnoticeable after a few days. And very now and then you caught a glimpse of a skinny cat disappearing down a dark narrow street.
view from the jetty
view from the jetty

We arrived at the hotel and were shown to the tables by the small pool and given fresh juice; then shown to our rooms. The hotel we stayed at was lovely (though the drainage for the shower in my en-suite didn’t work too well, I kept flooding the whole bathroom, but people repeatedly tried their best unsuccessfully to fix it). The hotel was a beautiful labyrinth of rooms and stairs, with sort of verandas with sofas and chairs where you could lounge, snooze or chat, dotted all over the place. Often you could hear people, but couldn’t see or find them, unless you went up some stairs, then down some, round the corner and up some more etc! My room had a sort of four poster wooden bed, but with a mosquito net instead of hanging fabric, and a fan, that I was very grateful for because it kept the mosquitoes away and kept me cool during the humid nights! When I arrived the bed was decorated with real small pretty flowers; it had great romance potential! My saloon style window looked onto some narrow backstreets with more donkeys.
the transfer!
the transfer!

Once we had unpacked, we met with 6 of the other VSOs, who we were going to spend Christmas with. I had only met one of them before, who I met at the VSO Preparing to Volunteer course in Birmingham; she emailed me about the whole trip in advance of me leaving England and invited me along. She had organised the whole holiday with one of the others, for which we were all very grateful; many thanks to them! The VSOs we joined are mostly working around Mombasa. A day later two others joined us to complete our party of 10. We were more girls than boys, but this didn’t cause a problem. We were all different ages and the majority from the UK, but we all had differing amounts of experience of working/travelling abroad so it was nice to share experiences. Most of them had arrived in Kenya mid October, so we were all relative newbies to VSO Kenya. We all got on remarkably well and it was nice to be able to spend different days with different people; I think if it was a smaller group it could have been more difficult. We didn’t get bored of each other’s company because we were quite a large group. I am grateful to have spent what could have been a difficult and strange Christmas away from home with such lovely and down to earth people.
approaching Lamu
approaching Lamu

Trixie and I had dinner at the hotel the evening we arrived; the others had arrived a few hours earlier and had gone off to find some dinner and have an explore. I was suddenly very tired; I wasn’t sure at the time whether it was the heat, or travelling, but I could not help but feel laidback and peaceful. This ambience was to last for all of our time on Lamu. I realised after a few days that the pace of life is so gentle and relaxing; the heat and humidity add to this too, (though there was a nice breeze for most of the time we were there), and that you can’t really do much on Lamu, and that’s fine! It was all so chilled and 'yeah, whatever, we’ll see what happens’; it was fantastic (though after 2 weeks I’d imagine it could get very frustrating). The ‘hakuna haraka’ (no rush) atmosphere of the island was very infectious. Needless to say that evening we went to bed early and slept well, even though I woke up and was a little disturbed at one point in the night, trying to work out what the hell that noise was (it was the donkeys braying). I don’t think the side-effects of my Lariam anti-malarial pill helped my confusion either. At least donkeys braying is better then cockerels squawking.
luggage is unloaded
luggage is unloaded

I wanted to do two things during my Christmas on Lamu; go to the donkey sanctuary (where old and sick donkeys go to retire) and visit the museum. The island was so relaxed; I ended up doing neither of them. At least that gives me an excuse to go back. Sadly, I didn’t even go on a donkey ride. I imagined it would be a little cruel; I joked that my feet would drag along the floor (however I probably would have been a lightweight compared to the loads they carry). They looked so sad, grumpy and bored. And much smaller than I imagined, or maybe I’ve grown since I last saw one.

The narrow winding streets of Lamu are perfect for donkey transportation. In fact on several occasions I had to quickly jump into a doorway when a gaggle (is that the right term?!) of donkeys came trotting past carrying things. One of our group told us that one morning he came across a group of local people watching two donkeys doing what animals do best, and suddenly understood where the phrase ‘hung like a donkey’ came from. Apparently the locals were doing their best to encourage the donkeys (verbally). We had a good in depth discussion too about why donkeys make that noise, which in the end was inconclusive; you’ll be pleased to know.
ceremonial wedding/fight dance thing
ceremonial wedding/fight dance thing

So some of the things we did do on Lamu, once we’d taken a day or two to relax properly and explore… Some of us went on a town tour with a guide who told us more about the history of the island. We saw some beautiful mosques, old Portuguese graves and impressive baobab trees. We walked through small markets and stopped to admire the workmanship of the intricate wooden Swahili doors.

We later visited the town fort, which used to be the jail. We heard that one of many ceremonies of a Swahili-Arabic wedding was due to take place in the fort one upcoming night. We were invited to go along and so turned up; one of our group managed to blag our way in to watch part of the ceremony (women only). It may have been a Muslim wedding but I am not one hundred percent sure. I do not know if it was an arranged marriage. The women were dressed so beautifully; when we arrived there were hundreds of women sitting on the floor of the huge square courtyard of the fort, watching another hundred or so women dancing slowly in the centre, in a huge circle. Then the bride entered and after lots of attention to her appearance from the party of women she was with (bridesmaids?), slowly walked down a red carpet to a stage area. Then all the women (except the bride and female family members I think) started to put their headscarves and black head to toe dresses on, over their beautiful dresses. The groom then entered with other men (best men? this is why the women had covered, because the men were joining); he slowly walked down the red carpet too and sat next to his new wife on a stage with beautiful fairy lights behind them. Then lots of people took their photos for quite some time, with lots of different members of the family. The bride had the patience of a saint and kept smiling throughout. We watched everyone dancing whilst the photos were being taken (though it was mostly women dancing) and were invited to join in the dancing, which we did, though I did feel a little awkward wearing jeans and a t-shirt with shawl (thanks, Rochdale for that ingenious buy; it made me feel a little more conspicuous at least). I am not sure what type the music was exactly, though it was coming from a sound system, but it sounded how I would describe Arabic-pop (?) and the younger girls were definitely enjoying it. People started to leave and everyone returned their empty glass soda bottles to the crates. The ceremony was fascinating and beautiful to watch, and to my surprise not too far away from my (be it some-what limited) experience of wedding ceremonies in the UK.
the hotel
the hotel

We walked to Shela beach twice, which is a beautiful long strip of beach with white sands that feel like warm silk under your toes; there are no sun-loungers, which is perfect (just take a towel and plonk it); and of course you can have a strip of the beach relatively to yourself, if you are prepared to continue walking a little. There were even a few camels prancing around the dunes in the background, near a sort of Swahili-Arabic castle on the beach. The sea was a lovely temperature, with no sea weed, though the current was noticeable, where we were. There are no waves because the beach is sort of on a creek between islands. It was a good 45 minute walk there, which in the heat meant it was often necessary to stop at a bar along the way for a soda. Sometimes it also meant getting a boat back, being such a relaxed place and all. The walk was very beautiful though; a gentle stroll along the seafront, looking at some of the impressive houses and donkeys and trees/plants on the way. Although a Muslim island, Lamu has its fair share of tourists and so I think the locals are used to visitors being scantily clad, and we definitely did not get any negative attention by showing too much flesh, thankfully.
my room
my room

One night there was a wedding party (maybe the same one as the one at the fort but a different party) going on literally behind the hotel and the music was on blaringly loud, until 4am. There was no point in sleeping. So we gathered and lounged on one of the balconies chatting and drinking and eating chocolate until the music had finished and we could sleep. The temperature was nice because of the cool breeze and the humidity of the day had dies away, but it was still warm enough for a t-shirt and maybe shawl. When I went up to the roofless balcony I was in awe with the night sky because the stars were breathtaking; I never knew there were so many. All the constellations I can recognise (2 then!) were in different positions. I could have stood there for hours and just stared upwards. I felt very small.
views from the rooftop of hotel
views from the rooftop of hotel

In terms of eating, you could get hold of pretty much anything you wanted, especially if you were willing to pay. We went to cheap Kenyan places some evenings and more expensive, Western style restaurants on others. I had seafood bolognaise one day that was incredibly good. And there are lots of good fruit juices on Lamu too, and they are especially good when you mix them up, e.g. banana and mango. A lot of the time we ended up in Petley’s bar at the end of the day. There aren’t actually many bars on Lamu as it is a Muslim island, but Petley’s filled the gap nicely. The only frustrating thing was all the beach boys (or any male trying to sell you something) watching you constantly or trying to chat you up, which after 30 minutes, gets very annoying, and sadly I much preferred drinking on the rooftop at out hotel to avoid this. I understood that people were making the most of the tourists this year, because the post-election violence this time last year meant that travelling was relatively unsafe in Kenya, and took its toll badly on tourism.
views from the hotel
views from the hotel

Over the 6 days on Lamu I went on 3 boat trips, (2 of which were dhow), all 3 in the space of 48 hours, which I think is quite impressive! Some of us went on a boat to Takwa ruins on Manda island. We had to sail past and then through mangroves (a type of tree/bush that grows in the shallow water, making a sort if impenetrable forest across the shallow creeks). As we were sailing along, you would glimpse breaks in the mangroves which I can only describe as a sort of maze of watery ginnels. I expected a crocodile to swim along at any point (though I don’t think they live there). We sort of timed the trip a little badly because the tide was too low for the boat to make it to the shore of Manda at the point of Takwa ruins, so the captain jumped out and started pulling all four of us (in the boat) towards the shore, which we couldn’t see. He eventually gave up and we waited for the tide to rise a little, taking the opportunity to soak up the rays, and in some cases, snooze a little. The tide didn’t really rise too much, so the captain pulled us along a little more and eventually asked us to get out and walk because the water was just above knee level and the shore was within sight. So out we got. The water was warm-ish but there was a sort of dark mud at the bottom of the water that was quite warm and sticky and felt very squidgy between the toes. You also sank quite quickly, which was alarming. So we all squelched our way to the shore, which eventually became sandy. However by this point the multiple blisters I’d acquired from the town tour and a lot of walking had filled up with the black mud and sand we’d been squelching in, which was quite painful. We reached the place where you paid to enter the ruins and I promptly plonked myself on a wonky bench and used my drinking water to rinse the blisters and squeeze all the mud out. Luckily I had brought plasters. But walking around the ruins was a little more painful than it should have been; and it was also ridiculously hot because we arrived at midday and the man who showed us around (who also sold us the tickets) was walking quite quickly. It was a shame because I was a little distracted from the ruins because I was hot and sweaty and in (slight) pain, the big girls’ blouse that I am. Takwa ruins are the remains of a Swahili town from 15th-17th century and for some reason the locals just left and the town was abandoned; it is believed residents moved over to Shela beach on Lamu. We saw the remains of mosques, homes and wells, close up; many taken over by baobab tress or thorny bushes. We were the only tourists there. It was lovely to be able to walk around and explore. We walked up a sand dune, from which we could see the amazing shoreline and beach, but I was so pooped and hot I decided to stay in a little hut at the top of the dune and enjoy the view. It was deserted and beautiful. The captain returned and had to explore the ruins to find us to take us back.
first impressions of lamu
first impressions of lamu

Once we were back on Lamu we met with the others and had a rest and then hopped on a dhow for a sunset trip, which was a much larger boat but looked much less reliable than the one we’d previously been on, though it had the typical large sail and a motor in addition. Members of the crew would stand on planks to balance the dhow, counteracting the sail to make sure it didn’t capsize. They encouraged the 15 of us on the boat to stand on the plank to help, 2 of whom did, to quite impressive and embarrassing results, respectively. We were told by the crew that there was water in the boat because it ‘sweats’. Hmmm. Luckily for me I can swim, if I needed to, which I didn’t. The crew were quite lively and sang as we sailed along, playing a drum or whatever other things they could bang on, trying to ensure we all had a fun time and the other dhows could hear us coming. We were offered coffee and a sort of wet Turkish delight, which was sticky but very sweet and lovely. We sailed around for maybe 90 minutes and watched the breathtaking sunset. Every moment the colours seemed to change as the sun set and cameras were clicking frequently. We also ended up having an impromptu boat race with another dhow, which resulted in some impressive photos.
narrow streets of Lamu
narrow streets of Lamu

Christmas day was one I will never truly forget. It was so un-Christmassy and far away from my usual Christmas, but I enjoyed it very much. I did miss family a lot, but the fact that it was quite un-Christmassy sort of stopped me from thinking about all the things I was missing at home, and this wasn’t a bad thing. Believe it or not I actually got sunburnt on Christmas day; most of us did. We woke up and had breakfast together about 8.30. The hotel had put up a small Christmas tree, which was kind of cute. We then went down to the sea front to catch the dhow that we had organised, which would be a day long trip past the mangroves to near Manda Island where we would be snorkelling in the reefs. This dhow was much bigger and the crew were more relaxed, shall we say. The reefs were quite impressive, though I’ve never been snorkelling in the ocean before so I’ve nothing to compare it to. Snorkelling felt quite strange at first, having to make a much greater effort to forcibly breathe in and get used to the feeling of being able to see and breathe whilst underwater. Towards the end I was trying to swim under water and snorkel, by holding your breath whilst under the water and shooting the water out of the pipe as you come up to the surface, with varying degrees of success. I saw quite a few fish, none of which I know the names of or will be able to describe to you very well. I saw some of the blue-grey ones with a yellow stripe, like Dory from ‘Finding Nemo’. I also saw I think a puffer fish (and thought aren’t they poisonous?). I saw two other large fish swimming slowly with big spines on their backs, well camouflaged into the reef and stayed well away. There were other large silver fish too and little ones that darted about. I was informed that there were no sharks. (!) What was more interesting was watching one of the crew from the boat snorkelling with a spear to catch our lunch! He was able to spot them and dive quite deep to spear them. Once he’d caught them he put them in a net attached to a rope from the boat. He even caught a puffer fish to take back to Lamu, apparently for the cats. It was puffed up (and obviously very dead) all the way home. Once we’d snorkelled there to our heart’s content we sailed off to a different part of the island, where there was a deserted white sandy shore very close, with shade to lie in from the trees, and a small hut. The fish were gutted and cooked on the boat by the crew over a small stove whilst we continued to snorkel (I think this is when I got burnt). The water was very warm and shallow and there was quite a strong current, which made snorkelling one way very easy but snorkelling back again very hard work. I felt like a small child at Christmas, ironically, or on a holiday, not wanting to get out of the swimming pool.
a typical lamu scene
a typical lamu scene

The fish tasted amazing. They also cooked us a veggie curry, which was beautiful. It was a very different but great Christmas lunch. We washed the plates in the ocean after eating; the leftovers of the fish were returned to where they had been happily swimming along an hour earlier. We pratted about on the beach for a little while, making a large sign on the shore from sticks, running across the hot sand to collect them and burning our feet in the process, saying ‘Happy Christmas VSO, Making a Difference’ (how ironic). We then set off for home, and after snoozing a little on the dhow, I plucked up the courage to climb up and sit on the roof of the boat, and the view was spectacular, one of those moments where you think, ‘I’ll never forget this in my life’ We traipsed back to the hotel, tired, hot but happy. I think the funniest point of my Christmas day, was after flooding the bathroom (yet again) after having a shower, I was putting on after-sun to cool my ever-pinkening skin and the phone happened to ring and it was family from home, calling at the time we’d arranged. Suddenly there was a power cut and I was stood there in darkness, semi-naked and greasy, hearing the donkeys braying outside, trying to hold a coherent conversation on the phone whilst simultaneously trying to find my head torch in the dark. Now that scenario would never happen at home. Talking with home was nice but strange, it made me realise again that it actually was Christmas day and all across the world people were celebrating Christmas in their different ways.
local donkey riding
local donkey riding

We had dinner at the hotel, which was a barbecue and buffet, which was actually a tad disappointing. By this point my post-sea-leg-sickness was really kicking in and even when I was sitting still, it felt like my whole body was rocking; it was very disconcerting, and this was before alcohol! The food wasn’t a touch on the lunch we’d had. We were all very tired too. We met all met after dinner on a balcony where we had bought drinks and spirits in advance and gave out our secret-santas, which we had agreed to spend a max of 200 shillings each. I just so happened to get Trixie and she happened to get me. She got me a turquoise and blue kanga, which is a sort of Swahili fabric that women wear around their waists and heads, sometimes as an apron, and a home-made Christmas card. The kangas all have a Swahili proverb or saying on them, though I can’t remember what it means now, my Swahili isn’t that good yet. I love the colour and pattern and it went very nicely with my bikini. I got her some earrings. Obviously some hard bargaining had been going on by us to get the most from the 200 shilling presents (just less than £2), and there were some very creative and memorable presents. Then one by one we dropped like flies and went to bed. I was actually very un-cool and watched Blackadder’s Christmas Carol on my laptop when I went to bed. That made me feel very Christmassy. Christmas just wouldn’t be Christmas for me without Blackadder’s Christmas carol. Some traditions never die eh?

" a man without a donkey, is a donkey"

So on the 26th we sadly had to leave Lamu on a plane bound for Malinidi, which is further south down the coast of Kenya, on which note I shall finish writing part 2 and commence with part 3! Thank you to those who sent me Christmas cards and messages, I picked them when I arrived back in the New Year; I was very happy and touched by them. I still have the cards on the wall in my room. And many thanks to Trixie for her snap-happy-photo-taking, producing some beautiful images that I’ve stolen for this blog! I think I realised how important it is to appreciate family and friends and spend time with them over the Christmas season, rather than all the hype and materialism; you really don’t need that at all; although it’s hard when it’s being forced-fed to us in the media months beforehand. I look forward to making up for the 2 Christmases I will have missed and they will be even more special to me!