Nairobi to Nirvana

Up until now, every hostel and hotel I've ever stayed in that provides a free breakfast has a cutoff time, and if you snooze, you lose.

Fatigued from my bus trip from Nairobi, I did not rise until noon , and was not expecting breakfast. Heck, I didn't eve know that breakfast was included. Nevertheless, at the break of lunchtime, I found myself tucking into some scrambled eggs (Mombasa style), fresh fruit, and some very delicious coffee.

It would be the first of many indicators that I had chosen well, and that the Nirvana Backpackers Hostel in Nyali Beach was a different sort of place.

Satiated, I move in to my room with free wireless and private bath. At $38 cdn, this place is a real bargain in a fashionable suburb.

After cleaning up, I head out towards the town of Nyali Beach, a lovely place that is oddly reminiscent of the burb I grew up in, though the ethnicity is unfamiliar.

The town of Nyali Beach is really lovely.  I find myself at a local pub watching an EPL game. I get peckish and order some food at a nearby joint packed with locals. The waiter  brings some ceremony prior to my order. Handsoap, a pitcher and a bucket are presented, an unexpected Kenyan tradition.

I soap, wash, and rinse. The ritual is repeated after the meal.

I'm on the equator, my belly is full, it is getting dark. A wiser traveler than myself would grab a cab, but I am one of those men who refuses to ask for directions.

I walked in here, I'm walking out.

Given that a $3 tuk tuk ride would have provided the same service, I am still puzzled by my own obstinance. Nonetheless, I walked in the dark (no streetlights, and uneven surfaces) back from whence I came, the return trip taking at least twice as long as the original.

My jagged walk eventually finds me back at Nirvana Backpackers. I walk in tired and ready to sleep.

Unfortunately, Lesley, the owner has other ideas. She invites me to join her at a beach party. Fortunately, her ideas are way better than mine.

I may be exhausted, but it is time to say "yes to evereything".

As it turns out, I am on the cusp of a very memorable evening that I shall not soon forget.

A New Dawn

The bus from Nairobi to Mombasa rolls on into the endless night. The sky above is filthy with stars, and I become increasingly relaxed as Nairobi grows ever distant in the rear view mirror.

I arrive in Mombasa on the cusp of dawn. I disembark to find myself on a street somewhere in the ever increasing light. I light a cigarette and breathe in my surroundings. Happily, the vibe in Mombasa is much different than Nairobi. People say "hello" and "welcome". As they pass I feel a weight slowly rise from my shoulders.

At last, I am in the Africa that  I came to see. I finish my smoke and hop in a tuk-tuk, making my way to Nyali Beach and my ultimate destination, Nirvana Backpackers Hostel.

Unfortunately, I am dreadfully early. After overpaying my driver the man at the gate lets me in. The guard proceeds to wake up the manager, a lovely young lady by the name of Jane.

My room is occupied, but I am graciously offered a bed in the hostel area, which I readily accept.

As I drift off to sleep a smile comes across my face, buoyed by the overwhelming feeling that the road before me is finally unfolding as it should.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

Zipping Up, Zipping Out

Two caveats of African travel are that one should avoid dangerous areas and that the risks of night travel raise the the odds of perishing exponentially. In Tanzania, travelling by bus at night is forbidden by law.

And so it was that I found myself in a post dusk Nairobi taxi hurtling towards the heart of a place that the Lonely Planet refers to as "the most dangerous city in Africa" (no small feat on a continent that contains Joburg, Lagos and Mogadishu) so that I could catch the red eye to Mombasa.

Even my cab driver mutters the words "very dangerous" as he drops me off at my rendevous point. I put on my best tough guy mask and saunter in to the bus station.

The street outside is a whirling dervish of nefarious activity. Unfortunately, I left the hostel very early due to the reputation of Nairobi traffic, and much to my chagrin,  I find myself in this perilous cauldron with a lot of time to kill, or vice-versa as the case may be.

I hang in the doorway, smoking and striking a menacing pose as if I'm doing a photo shoot for the cover of some CD that will never be released. Yeah, I'm bad, I'm nationwide.

As I'm patting my badass self on the  back, I look down at my shirt and notice BBQ stains from my hastily consumed dinner. I consider the fact that in all the movies I have ever seen, the toughguy has never once worn a BBQ sauce stained shirt.

An instant later, I notice a young guy glancing over at me. I sneer back. He looks down at his crotch and mimes doing up his zipper. I glance down at my own crotch and meekly do up my fly as I hear in my minds ear the thud of my tough guy mask shattering on the muddy  sidewalk.

I switch to my sad sackmask in the hope that the predators around me will take pity and understand that I am clearly out of my depth.

As the bus pulls out into the tattered Nairobi night it dawns on me that this town is no place for a weenie such as myself. As we rumble towards Mombasa, I quietly hope that my next destination will have a kinder face, because if it doesen't, I may have a heart attack before this is over.

Damnit, I knew I should've purchased travel insurance.

goyestoeverything.com

Where Is The Love?

Surely the person who coined the term "Mean Streets" must have lived in downtown Nairobi at some point.

Though I cannot say that I experienced anything specifically untoward, the vibe in the downtown area is such that I'm fairly certain that I could have been knifed in the back and relegated to a garbage pile to die a lingering death and not one passerby would stop, lest they suffer the same fate.

The unease that permeates the core is palpable. There are plenty of white people living in Nairobi, but I did not see one of them as I nervously scurried about, and I got the distinct impression that the people I did see would much rather be somewhere else.

Certainly I've been intimidated many times throughout my travels, but that was due to a lack of familiarity as much as anything else.

One of the reasons I like to travel  is to prove to myself and others that fear of the wider world is mostly irrational.

However, Nairobi is a place where one should carry a healthy sense of fear, and if you're in downtown "Nairobbery" and you're not at least a little bit frightened then there is something deeply wrong with you.

Either that or you're Spiderman.

And if you wonder why there are no pictures with this post it is because I decided that I wanted to keep my camera with me for the rest of the journey.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

My Boring Stories.....

In the waning hours of slinging pints,  a few people asked me what is new. Usually, I would say not much, but given the impending reality that I am flying to Nairobi, Kenya on Monday it is hard to reply "same old, same old".

Honestly, I love to travel, but I hate douchebags who think that there is some hierarchy to travel. One night in a local bar some dork said that I was not a "real traveler" compared to him. Personally, I didn't know that there was an awards banquet for Traveler Of The Year. Nor was I aware, that a journey to Place A was more valid than a journey to Place B.

I just love travel.  I love reading  and hearing about travel, and I don't care if it is a trip to visit your family in Saskatchewan or an impromptu trip to Paris or New York or London.

Please regale me with the stories that you think are boring.

Mostly I like experiencing travel.

Prepare to be regaled by my own boring stories.

What If?

I often find it difficult to reconcile the things I do with who I am, my travels being a prime example. Increasingly I come to the conclusion that I get a voyeuristic thrill by scaring the hell out of myself. I'm not some base jumper, I'm not Survivor Man, and I don't even like carrying large trays of drinks.

I would describe my general philosophy as a sort of incremental pragmatism, and dare I say it, slightly conservative. I tend to consider things very carefully before making a move, but for some reason travel has become a yang to this dominant ying.

I know someone who is currently learning how to parachute, something I would never do. Another friend bought a top of the line Harley, never having driven a motorcycle before. Even the sales staff at Harley Davidson were incredulous as he lurched his way out of the dealership. As for me, I travel, but the need is the same.

It is the basic human desire to feel alive, to get that rush of adrenalin while challenging ourselves to have new experiences, to escape for a time the routine and mundane that comprise a significant and necessary chunk of our lives.
,
Make no mistake, you need not spend huge amounts of money to shake off  the horse latitudes of tedium.

The solution is simply to go do something that you've never done before, and accept the reality that no matter how small  or large you may perceive your world to be, your experiences are dwarfed by the possibilities that remain.

As I write this, I am deeply stressed about my trip to Kenya and Tanzania, my mind at times racing about all the things that could go wrong. What if? What if? What if?

But then another question creeps in.

What if I don't?

Living with fear is one thing, dying with regret is quite another.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

The Accidental Traveler

Honestly, I did not plan to go to Kenya. I had wanted to go to Kenya, but research had shown me that a trip to Kenya was a wealthy persons journey and far beyond my means.

I was actually considering Peru. Airfare to Peru was $800 and costs on the ground seemed manageable. Airfare to Kenya was $1700 and a low budget safari is $200 per day. But when Cayelle gave me a tip on a return airfare to Nairobi for $775, I found I could not resist the siren song of a cheap ride.

So I am off to Kenya, Tanzania, and Zanzibar, but not in the accepted fashion. Finances dictate that I shall not be cloistered and pampered. I will crash at the dives, ride the buses, and eat on the streets.

I may not see all the animals that I wish, but I will have ample opportunity to observe the genus that most fascinates me; my fellow human beings.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com