Update : 16.01.2006
Place : Masai Mara National Park/Kenya
Day : 93
Distance traveled : 14,172km

I know my Kenya update is way behind schedule. I fantasized about completing all the updates until the flight from Nairobi while in Istanbul and from then on writing on a more frequent basis. In all honesty, first catching up with family and friends, then running errands which awaited my return took much of my time so I failed to make it all reality. I was only just able to complete - edit and organize photos - and upload the Ethiopia update the last day before returning to Africa, that is, on January 8th. And the "breathtaking" first part of the Kenya update prior to going back to Istanbul was postponed to today as you can see (or read).

Before I get on with the Kenya story, I want to correct a mistake I made in the last Ethiopia update, regarding the Bob Marley - Sashemene - Ethiopia connection. I said my guess was that Sashemene was probably where Bob Marley was baptized. This I said based on hearsay and without doing proper research. In fact, the story goes as follows: Haile Selasie, the Emperor at the time, allowed the African descendants who have settled in the West Indian Islands after the World War II to reside in Shashemee so that they could return to the continent where they were born. Many African descendant Jamaicans and the citizens of other West Indian Islands who wanted to take up on this opportunity settled in Sashemene. After his death, in 2005 there were discussions on bringing Bob Marley's body to Sashemene. His wife Rita claimed that his home land was Ethiophia. His 60th birthday, on February 2005, was celebrated for the whole month in Sashemene. So Shashemene - Bob Marley connection and the existence of hundreds of Bob Marleys in Sashemene (maybe most of them are the sons / grandsons of the Jamaicans who settled there years ago) is based on this story. Apologies for my mistake.

Now let's move on to the "breathtaking" Kenya adventure:

Kenya

The other side of the border is also Moyale but not Ethiopia. I enter Kenyan side of Moyale chatting away with the good humoured Kenyan police and the border officers. Moyale is divided into two by the border line. Both sides resemble each other, yet you can immediately feel that the Kenyan side is livelier.

Moyale-Marsabit road: Travelers' nightmare
The road between Moyale and Marsabit which is 250 km to the south of Moyale is the region that frightens the travelers the most on the East African route. This region hosts tribes such as the Boran tribe whose main economic activity is cattle-breeding, as well as the Somali gangs that frequent the area. These gangs are infamous for raiding trucks that carry valuable cargo (including cattle). Tribes also engage in bloody feuds that occupy the world agenda from time to time. These feuds usually begin due to claims of cattle rustling and turn into full blown massacres. If I remember correctly, 57 people died in a massacre of this kind in a village near Marsabit just a few weeks before I left for my trip.

Anyhow! For these reasons, this route is a nightmare for those traveling across Africa. Another reason for it to be super scary is the quality of the road. Just like the Wadi Halfa - Dongola road I mentioned in my Sudan update no.1, the road is extremely rough with its stony gravel and corrugated surface, and deep ripples and bumps which make you regret traveling on it.

Due to "safety" reasons they don't allow vehicles to travel alone on this road which has been the inspiration to many "bandit stories". You can only leave with military escort from Moyale at about 10:00 in the morning everyday. I personally would argue about how safe one would be driving along in such a convoy. Apparently lately bandits have been attacking convoys. In my opinion, instead of waiting for vehicles and attacking them one by one, they prefer to attack and rob the convoys. This way it becomes more time effective and profitable. Usually what interests them is the cargo that they can easily convert into cash. They must be aware that they won't benefit much from a camera or a laptop of a traveler. I tried to leave without the convoy with these thoughts in my mind. At about 9:30 the soldiers stopped me at the Moyale exit. They said they weren't going to let me continue alone. I got out of the car and was looking around when a young private approached me. He told me he was on duty at a village about 100 kms away and asked if I could give him a ride there. I got more than I hoped for. I invited him to the car right away and told the soldier at the gate that now that I had a "guard" with me, I would hope that they would let me go. They accepted! But they let us out with a warning that we should definitely go as fast as we can without stopping no matter what. And off we go. After 2 - 3 km of asphalt paved road we land on the infamous dirt road. The condition of the road allows for a cruising speed of either less than 15 or over 75 kmph. Anything in between and say goodbye to your car's and your joints. The difference between this one and the Wadi Halfa-Dongola road is that there is no desert to escape to. There is 2.5 - 3 m deep ditch on either side of the road. Or in other words the road was elevated about 2.5 - 3 m from the ground. Our cruise or "flight" speed is 80kmph, because at this speed you skip over the corrugated surface. This is quite dangerous, occasional rock or a small hole causes you to skip to another direction and you can easily lose steering control. To prevent this you need to keep your eyes on the road and maintain a tight strong grip on the steering wheel with your arms flexed at all times. In the case of a smallest skip you need to intervene carefully without using brakes and only use slight steering motions to get the vehicle back on its track. While doing this we were chatting with the soldier. He was pleasant and easy to talk with which helped me relax and put me a little at ease despite the difficult driving conditions. In the meantime I am also aware our speed is pushing the limits of safety.

Approximately 70 - 80 km into our journey I felt that the left tyre in the back - I think - fell into a small hole and we started skipping to the left. I did what I described above immediately but I must have over-compensated because this time the back of the car started swerving to the right. We were too close to the ditch on the right. I turned the wheel to the right slightly to regain control. First the back tyre and then the front one on the right went down the ditch. When I realized that we were dangerously leaning to the right it was already too late to get back up on the road. If we continued this way we were going to tip over and roll. Hoping that it would work, I turned the steering wheel sharply to the right. Luckily it worked and the car made a hard right turn and we flew "headfirst" onto the ditch. First the front tyres hit the ground then the back of the car went up and hit the ground next. Finally all four tyres were on the ground which was actually smooth, so I let the car do its thing for a bit. After 5 - 10 more meters I stopped the car and got out. First a general inspection then a closer look… The only damage I could detect was the bent rod which I experienced before on the Wadi Halfa - Dongola route. It was bent about the same as before and it wasn't going to prevent the car from driving. The major problem was with the soldier sitting next to me; he was pale as a ghost and continuously praying. I calmed him down and found a suitable spot to drive the car back up onto the road. We didn't talk much until the drop off, he was terrified. As he was getting off the car he said we were out of the danger zone and that I didn't have to drive fast anymore. Well he said that but you just can't drive slowly on this damn road.


Neverending Marsabit road


The camels herded towards the water on the Marsabit road

Marsabit
It was 15:30 when I arrived in Marsabit. Covered 250km and had a small accident in 6 hours. Not too shabby but I am exhausted. With one last burst of energy I went to the bank to exchange money. The guard at the door looked embarrassed as he told me that the bank was closed at 15:00. That's right; I have read that in the book. Just as I was getting back in the car, a tall young man wearing a suit called out to me from a distance and walked upto me. Asked me what I wanted. I said "I wanted to exchange dollars". He smiled and shook my hand; invited me inside. He was the branch manager. There were people working overtime and he instructed a few of them to take care of me; said goodbye and left. Impressive!

After exchanging currency I went to the Jey Jey Hotel that I spotted on the way into Marsabit. I checked into the last room available (the kid at the reception told me it was the last room, not sure if it's a sales method), left my bag in the room and went down to the "café" in the courtyard to have a cold beer to relax after an eventful day. There is a small problem; Mr J.J., the hotel owner, is Muslim so they don't serve beer. In the meantime, a young Belgian couple that the receptionist mentioned arrived at the hotel. They have survived an accident as well. It is apparent that they still haven't recovered from the shock of the accident. You can see the pain in the girl's face. She is suffering from severe back pain. They told me about their accident; just like mine. The only difference was that they couldn't think of turning the wheel to the right and their vehicle rolled 5 times. I said "Let me buy you beer at the bar. We can chat and you will feel a bit better." The girl said she had to go lay down since she was in pain. The guy and I went to see his car first. It was at a bodyshop in Marsabit where they do all sorts of repair work: from engine, electric equipment and systems to body and pain work… The car is a late 1980's model, Toyota Land Cruiser 80 Series and it is wrecked. Maybe (according to what they told him) chasis, engine and driving parts are ok, but the body is completely damaged. In my opinion no repairwork in Marsabit (by the way, Marsabit is only a small city) can put this car back on the road. They said they can fix it within 15 days. Even if what they say is true, I still wouldn't dare to leave Marsabit with that vehicle, let alone drive it all the way to Cape Town… But they have already sufficiently climbed down the ladder of happiness; I didn't want to say much. The state of their car reminded me once again the accident I had and how lightly I got off.


Jey Jey Facilities. The ropes you see on the second floor are for hanging up the laundry.
The courtyard / café downstairs is "alcohol-free"

The next day I decided to go on my very first national park visit, to the Marsabit National Park before starting my 250 km drive to Isiolo; a little tough but not dangerous. Marsabit is a small city built on the slopes of a mountain where the national park is situated. The three crater lakes on the top of the mountain point to the fact that it was an active volcano in the past. Surrounded by dry lands and its national park covered with a dense forest, Marsabit is like an oasis in the middle of the desert.
Approximately 1,500 km² in size, the national park is a home to a small variety of animal population living in peace. There are elephants, buffalos, leopards and baboons, to name a few.

I entered the gates of the national park at 7:30 in the morning and followed a route which would please the off-roaders till I reached the first Crater Lake: Gof Sokorte Dika. The scenery is amazing; this is the first time I see elephants in their natural environment. A large family of them has come to visit the Crater Lake with their young ones.

I went into the safari lodge built on a slope overlooking the Crater Lake in the park, to download my e-mails which I haven't checked for a few days and also to have a cup of coffee.


A family of elephants visiting the lake for a morning bath. Marsabit National Park

Safari lodge is a combination of two terms: Safari means "journey" in Kswahili, used to describe expeditions organized to observe African wildlife unique to these regions, and "lodge" is a place of short term accommodation/stopover. These lodges where black Africans serve the guests provide a feel of the colonial African life in early 20th century to the "adventure loving" tourists who left the comfort of their modern homes in their civilized countries to see Africa's wild life. They are an important income source for the economy. The number of these lodges is on the rise as the "Safari Tours" become more popular - in Turkey as well. Just like a tiger waiting to pounce on its prey, these lodges wait for tourists to rip off - those who are traveling by themselves and not on a tour. Staying at these "lodges" is a privilige as well as the easiest way to observe wild life. Sometimes the rates go up as high as USD700.00 - 800.00. The "adventure addicts" fly in and are picked up at the airports by dozens of specially built safari vehicles and brought to these lodges. The next day again they are picked up by the same vehicles and driven to the national parks to track the wild animals that inhabit these parks. At the end, they are put back on their planes to return to their civilized countries.


A pleasant drive. Marsabit National Park.

Marsabit National Park is not very fortunate as far as tourist traffic is concerned because it is a little out of the way. So the lodge facilities don't seem to be doing a lot of business. When I stopped by that day, not having seen any tourists for days, the staff was bored out of their minds competing with each other to bring the coffee I ordered. Of course this race turned into a semi-slow service when combined with the traditional slowness of the Kenyans. Still, I was enjoying my coffee overlooking the lake where fog has already settled, hearing the elephants even though I couldn't see them anymore, and browsing through the messages which I downloaded with the comfort (nevermind the slowness) of the satellite technology.

The road from Marsabit to Isiolo was just as bad. I completed a 50 km section of the road chatting away with the youth I picked up at the top gate as I was leaving the park. In the village where I dropped him, they put a lady next to me - I must look trustworthy. Her husband was working in Isiolo. She spoke very little English but nevertheless we chatted for a while. Towards the end of the trip the rough road conditions became unbearable, I had to stop and rest at a café after getting on the asphalt paved road and dropping my passenger off in Isiolo.

I arrived in Nanyuki at about 18:00 in the evening on December 21st. This was the place where I was going to stay and rest for 2 nights before Nairobi; get the car serviced and cleaned, then pack the stuff that I planned to take back to Istanbul. I selected Nanyuki firstly because it wasn't far from Nairobi and secondly I could get done everything I need to, without having to deal with the chaos of a big city like Nairobi.


Nanyuki
Nanyuki is a city built on the western skirts of the Mount Kenya (5,199m) which is the second highest mountain in Africa after the famous Mount Kilimanjaro (5,895m) in Tanzania which was a theme to many romantic movies. It is also a point where civilization begins to spring up for those coming down to Nairobi from the north. But another significant feature of the city is its geographic location. It is sitting right on top of the Equator line. Naturally there is a sign that indicates this. Like every other conqueror of the equator, I took a photo on the line. My car is in the photo in my stead. My GPS didn't show that this was exactly the 0° latitude but they put the effort into a sign that says so, I decided to play along.


Crossing over the Equator line... The jugs and funnels on the rightside on the ground are for those who want to carry out a "physics experiment".

There are two jugs and funnels just on the line just under the sign. But the jugs are empty. Soon as you grab the jug people holding water containers get a hold of you, to fill the jug for you. How much? For however much you are happy to part with from your wallet… For those who don't know the story, let me explain. In the northern hemisphere the whirlpool spins in a counter-clockwise direction. In the southern hemisphere the spin is clockwise. If you want to try and witness this with your own eyes, under the sign in Nanyuki will be the perfect place for you to do so. If this is not the exact equator line - as my GPS pointed out - and your experiment fails, or just like some people claim there is no such thing and you obtain mixed results on the direction the water spinning in a whirlpool, then you will have wasted all the money you paid to the water suppliers. The best thing to do then is to keep your own water and funnel with you - if you are going to cross the equator. What will you then do with the funnel afterwards? Well since you carried a funnel across the continents to do this, why not just wear it on your head then?

It took almost the entire day to get the car cleaned, the rod straightened and adjusted, tyres rotated and the gear and belongings organized. I worked on my updates until dinner time and went back to the internet café-bar-restaurant "combined facilities" to continue the chatter from where we left the night before. Among all the African people I interacted with (excluding Egypt since they don't consider themselves African anyway) the ones that are the easiest to strike up a conversation with are Kenyans. And most easy to chat with… Like old friends, you can easily and quickly engage in a conversation with the bartender, waiter, those sitting at the bar, owner of the internet café, effortlessly.

The next morning, on December 23rd, I left Sportsman's Arm Hotel (impressive name, eh?) and set out for Nairobi. The drive on the winding road to Nairobi via Tika didn't bother me despite the busy traffic because Kenyans drive with extreme care, especially on the intercity roads. I don't know if any of you have ever driven a left hand drive car alone on the left side of the road but it is a difficult job especially on intercity roads with increased truck traffic. Before taking over a truck you have to put a greater gap between you and the truck so as to be able to see and keep an eye on the oncoming traffic -from a safe distance. Otherwise you will be stuck at the speed of the truck and inhaling its exhaust fumes along the way. Despite the huge gap I maintained between me and the vehicle in the front and driving slow with great care when changing lanes, I didn't get any reaction from the long convoy of vehicles behind me. No matter how slow you drive, they don't harrass you, just like in Turkey (!). They also follow other rules of the road, such as the right of way in the roundabouts. And when one breaks a rule (not that it happens very often) they warn them with a nice loud honk.


Nairobi
Once in Nairobi it wasn't too hard to find the Fairview Hotel with the help of GPS. When I turned into the street where the hotel is located the first sign I saw said: "You are on the safest street in Nairobi!" Well, that is luck. It is indeed incredibly lucky to find a street like this when safety has been the one thing that I am anxious (or made anxious) about. At the same time, I couldn't comprehend why they put this sign up there. A little further (at a point where I should be very close to the hotel) another sign: "A friendly checkpoint ahead!" What on earth? Two armed soldiers stopped me, smiling; in front of me there are 2 cylindical concrete blocks about 2 m in diameter and 1 m in height, which would require a tight slalom action to pass through. It is impossible to breach the barrier. The friendly soldiers asked me where I was coming from and heading to, what I had in the vehicle, and asked me to open the back of the car. I was thinking to myself "until now noone made me take stuff out of the car, it will suck if I will have to now." They were also confused to see the amount of stuff in the car; they looked at each other and grabbed their radio. They reported my name and plate number, explained the situation and asked me to wait. Ok, but wait for what? Apparently I was supposed to wait for someone to come and have a look at the situation. I said "Ok, but why all these security measures?" "To ensure your safety" said one of them, trying to look convincing and pleasant at the same time. "How did you hear about my arrival?" I stressed the fact that I was only joking. The other one said "We hear about everything". Alrighty then. In a little while a young "white man" wearing a cap, plain shirt and a light fabric pants. He shook my hand and walked around the car inspecting it carefully, took a look at the open trunk and the interrogation began. I answered calmly all of his questions which he asked with a gentle tone of voice. No doubt, I was being interrogated. I was calm, I had to be calm or else they could reward me by making me unload everything. This I knew. He listened to my story, found my journey very interesting. He congratulated me for my courage, shook my hand and wished me good luck. Then he gestured with a slight motion of his head to the soldiers to let me pass. Before I left, I asked him as well the meaning of these security measures. "For your safety" I grinned, looking unconvinced. He smiled as well, said "nice car" giving me the thumbs up. I passed through another 2 heavy, steel barriers to enter the hotel driveway. After check-in I couldn't stop myself from asking at the reception the reason for this security stuff. Always the same reply. Finally the young fellow who carried my luggage to my room revealed the reason; there is an American Embassy across the street. Well, now I am sure that I am at the safest place in Nairobi.

Maybe you will remember, 263 people died and nearly five thousand people were injured when - if I remember correctly - a truck laden with explosives drove up to the U.S. Embassy in Nairobi. They turned this location into a memorial - park that you can visit for an entry fee of twenty Kenya Shillings. Current embassy building is apparently across from the hotel I am staying at. But there is no indication (not even an American flag) that it is the U.S. embassy, except for the unusually tight security measures. Maybe they think that this way noone will know where it is. It reminded me of the ostrich…

I did not engage in any activity other than writing, eating and drinking during the three nights and two days in this most luxurious and - I am sure - safest hotel I have ever stayed since the beginning of my trip. At one point I left the hotel and went to the places that we will visit when I return to Nairobi with Buket and Alican and loaded the tracks to the GPS; visited one of the famous Uchumi supermarkets of Kenya to replenish the fridge beverage stock in the car, and went to the Kenya Airlines to collect my plane ticket. Other than that, during the time I spent by the hotel pool I worked diligently on regaining the kilos I have lost.

Returning to Istanbul
On the morning of December 26th I picked up my laptop bag and two pieces of luggage (my backpack and the aluminum box on top of the car) which I packed with all the extra stuff that I didn't really need to take with me to the trip and took a taxi to the airport. My guess was that my luggage weighed about 60-65kg; that is 40-45 kg more than the 20 kg I am allowed. When I was collecting my ticket I asked the ticketing officer how much I would need to pay for excess luggage. He told me it would be arounf USD6.00 per kilo. I made a quick calculation and thought a USD 250 - 300.00 excess luggage fee would be worth the mission. The security check personnel at the gates were a little confused but I managed to go through without problems. Check-in proved to be difficult. First the lady doing the check-in told me that I had to split the 42 kg weight of the aluminum box. I forgot, this was the international practice that each piece of luggage needs to be 32 kg or lighter. She said the person who was stretch-wrapping the luggage would help. So that part of the mission was complete, and worked really well. Now I had three pieces of luggage. At the next stage we found out that I had 47 kg of excess luggage and I was told by the same lady that I had to go and pay the fee at the cashier, which I was already prepared for. The other lady in the cashier told me that I had to pay USD 1,502.00 for the 47 kilos and I was dumbfounded; frankly I wasn't ready for this. I tried to explain to her that the contents of the luggage wouldn't even be worth half this fee; even my ticket didn't cost this much - although I paid 2.5 times the normal price that I would have paid in Istanbul, and the excess luggage fee she was asking for was much higher than the one quoted by the ticketing person in the city. None of this worked. For some reason I just couldn't think anymore and accepted the situation, then decided to get rid of the excess kilos by throwing them away. I have taken out a lot of stuff until total luggage weight dropped down to 37 kg; spare parts of the car (alternator, a complete clutch set, etc), some clothes, books, etc. Of course there was the question of what to do with them. The "stretch wrap" kid caught my eye. I went to him and said "Take these, they are all yours. You can wear the clothes, throw away the books and sell the spare parts". His couldn't believe his eyes, didn't know what to do. This was a prize equivalent to a few months' wages. I found the security officer and told him that the new owner of all the goods was this "stetch wrap" kid. Then I went and got the check-in done. I know that this was not the end that the "lady" was expecting. Actually, I figured this out later. It could have been all sorted out in return for a USD 50-100.00 "tip". But as I said, I couldn't think clearly at the time. As I was on the plane flying towards Istanbul, I ate my dinner, drank my wine and fell asleep, content with the knowledge that I was the most idealist passenger of Kenya Airlines.

Next one: "Kenya Family Tour". Stay with us, and please keep sending messages. Your interest and messages are much appreciated.

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