Riyad and Sarah's Travels

Having made our way from Ethiopia to Rwanda taking in African cities, culture, and animals, it was time for us relax by the shore.

We flew from Kigali, Rwanda to Mombasa: Kenya’s second biggest city and major port town on the Indian Ocean. It was hot on the coast – we were sweating the moment we stepped off the plane – and we were pumped to make it to the beach.

Mombasa has a history dating back 400 years influenced by the Portuguese, Omani Arabs, and the British. Still standing is Fort Jesus, which this year was minted with UNESCO World Heritage status.

Initially built by the Portuguese in 1593 to defend the port, it was last used as a prison by the British before being declared a national monument in 1958. The fort has been preserved well – Portuguese artwork and British cannons remain on display.

Sarah pointed out that in over a month in Africa we had seen almost every native animal except for the crocodile. To remedy this we stopped by Mombasa’s Mamba Village, which bills itself as the largest crocodile farm in all of Africa.

We arrived at feeding time.

 

The highlight of the farm was the feeding of “Big Daddy”: a sixteen foot monster rumored to be over 100 years old and to have eaten a few people.

But Mombasa wasn’t what we were looking for.

It was crowded, traffic was atrocious, and we were constantly bothered by kids and touts vying for our services. There were nice beaches, but they were either not close by or restricted to guests at pricey resorts. So after hitting the city’s sites we decided to move on.

Although Kenya has beaches up and down its coastline – Lamu is the one most raved about.

Just two problems stood before us.

Our first and foremost concern was safety. In the last three months there have been two kidnappings and murders of foreigners in the Lamu region by Somalis affiliated with the terrorist organization Al-Shabaab. After the second incident, Kenya invaded Somaila where they remain, bogged down in military operations. Al-Shabaab had threatened to retaliate, and tourists now have been scared away.

But with the military now patrolling Lamu (including some American marines) it seemed safer than ever; we decided to take the risk and head north.

Which brings me to the second problem.

There were no paved roads leading to Lamu, and we were strongly advised to fly. “The road is pretty bad, you won’t like it,” said one man. Clearly he was unaware that we were hardcore travelers, I thought as we bought our bus tickets.

Five hours into the eight hour bus ride we still were wondering what he had been warned us about. Then we passed Melindi, turned onto a dirt road and began bouncing about. Every half hour we stopped at villages and more people packed in. Sarah was ok by the window, but I at the aisle became a human armrest for everyone rammed up against me with bags and elbows in my face. At one point I felt something move near my feet and looked down to see a live chicken.

A few hours and many bruises later we did arrive. Our bus dropped us off at the pier, and after stretching on solid ground, we took a small boat across to Lamu.

Even though we arrived during what’s normally the busiest season of the year, we snagged a massive three story, seven bed house for $25 a night.

The top floor had a huge master bedroom next to a living room full of couches and tables open to views of the sea.

We wanted to relax and we couldn’t have found a better place.

Lamu was the complete opposite of Mombasa, with no roads and only a handful of cars. Stone buildings were separated by narrow streets that were safe to walk on at all hours of the night.

 

Donkeys were everywhere – carrying goods, being ridden, or just tied up on the streets.

We quickly grew accustomed to the constant braying.

For a small town there were plenty of places to eat with reasonably priced seafood. But it would have been a shame to not utilize our large kitchen; we visited the local market for fresh ingredients.

 

The island is predominantly Muslim, due to its location on an Omani Arab trading route. There are mosques every few blocks and women walk around in the heat fully covered.

Kids in town were very happy.

They were always running around and screaming, bothering donkeys or stray cats, or swimming near the pier.

The waters surrounding Lamu were best explored by small wooden boats known as dhows. Sarah, I, and British traveler James joined captain Baji and first mate Adam for a full day of snorkeling, fishing, and sailing aboard a dhow creatively named “Lamu”.

We set off at 9 AM; an hour later Baji killed the motor and Adam, James, and I jumped in to snorkel. Adam bore a spear and net to catch us lunch. We watched with fascination as he picked his target, swam up behind it, and disappeared underwater to surface with an impaled fish.

After having caught several fish and one stingray, we pulled anchor and went to a small deserted island.

Sarah, James, and I walked along the shore while Baji and Adam were busy cooking.

Their food was delicious – the fish were accompanied by chapatis and freshly made salad. After lunch, we sprawled out on deck, Adam and Baji unfurled the dhow’s sail and we returned to Lamu without the sounds of the motor.

The next few days were had the same unchanging routine: wake, read, eat, lounge, sleep, repeat. One day we mixed it up by visiting a local movie theatre – really just a hut with chairs – which charged twenty cents to watch American and Bollywood films. Its concession stand sold no popcorn or soda, just cigarettes.

 

On our last day in Lamu we arranged for another trip on the “Lamu” – this time departing in the afternoon to return at night under the cover of stars. James was replaced by three Canadians, and our path took us in the opposite direction, towards Manda Island.

With no time for snorkeling, Adam had been sent to sea earlier and joined the boat with a bag full of fish. After docking at Manda, he and Baji again prepared us a spectacular meal as we watched the sun set over the horizon and on our seven week stay in Africa.

 

No trip to Africa would be complete without going on a safari. 

We arrived in Kenya to do just that.  Armed with cameras, binoculars, and a mammal field guide, we set out for seven days to explore four different game parks, each with a distinct terrain and group of animals.  We were to stay inside the parks at fenced in hotels, leaving for game drives each morning and afternoon in a decked out van with a roof that popped out. 

Our guide and driver, Nicholas, had been conducting safaris for years, and was very knowledgeable about animal behavior and where they congregated.  He said he would try to show us all of the “Big 5″ – elephants, buffalo, rhinos, leopards, and lions – and a week later he had succeeded.

Amboseli National Park is known for elephants and unobstructed views of Africa’s highest mountain, Kilimanjaro. 

While the clouds never parted for us to see the mountain, there were several large herds of elephants roaming about. 

Nicholas shared stories of elephants attacking and knocking over cars – forever immortalizing the location with the name of the driver.  Just after he had told us this story, we were warned by a large male to back away – all he had to do was flare his ear and make eye contact and we immediately backed away.

We saw a few other animals in Amboseli besides elephants – many gazelles and buffalo, and in the distance, hippos and a lone cheetah.  Since the park was mostly flat with little vegetation we wondered where the rest of the animals were hiding. 

Among the many tribes in Kenya are the Maasai, nomadic cattle herders who have not integrated into Kenyan society and still live as they have in the past.  Park rangers are still on the lookout for Maasai who hunt lions as a rite of passage.  We visited one group of Maasai that had sent their chief’s son to learn English to give tours.   They gathered in a straight line to welcome us with traditional song and dance, involving murmuring and chanting and a lot of jumping. 

We were all invited to participate. 

Afterward we were taken through the village and told much about their style of life – the polygamous marriages, the medical rationale for removing two lower teeth, the herbal malaria treatment, the construction of houses from cattle dung, and how they start fire without matches. 

This village had the two room schoolhouse where Maasai kids from hours away gathered each day.  We stood by the blackboard as special guests while the kids sang for us.

 
From Amboseli we made the long drive northwest to Lake Nakuru National Park.  Unlike Amboseli, this park was full of trees that provided perfect cover for animals on and off the ground.  Here we saw our first batch of zebras…

giraffes…

…and rhinos.

We were allowed out of the car at Lake Nakuru to view the many flamingos and pelicans. 

Our biggest accomplishment at the park was finding a leopard, perched in a tree at the side of the road.  Nicholas was excited, telling us how rare it was to see one – safaris often end only having seen four of the big five.  We waited by the tree and eventually the leopard lifted his head for a few photos before turning back to sleep.  Nicholas was right as we didn’t see another one during the rest of our trip.

From Lake Nakuru National Park we moved on to Lake Naivisha.  With Nicholas remaining on shore, the five of us boarded a tiny motorboat boat for the ride across. 

Five minutes later our boat operator killed the engine and pointed a few feet away at a group of hippos.  The lake was home to several hundred, which, our guidebook stated, have overturned small boats unprovoked.  They floated nearby with only their eyes visible over the waterline, occasionally rising for air to show us their massive heads and teeth.

Across Lake Naivasha is Crescent Island, a walkable game reserve stocked with giraffes, wildebeest, zebras, and other herbivores.  The only predators are hyenas that pose no threat to humans as they only hunt at night.  After being in a van for several days, it was a refreshing break to be out in the open. 

Our guide walked us past the grazing animals to a group of three giraffes that eventually moved away as I got too close.

We saved Maasai Mara, the premier game park of Kenya, for last.  It was a bumpy drive from Lake Naivasha on the unpaved road, but was well worth the journey as the Maasai had more of the animals we had seen, including buffaloes, zebras, giraffes, and herds of elephants, plus other species we had missed.
 
While we had seen several similar looking types of antelope, the Maasai had a few that stood out.  The Topi have to be the ugliest. 

They looked like a cross between a goat and a horse and were colored brown with black splotches on their legs.  We found them everywhere, and one morning we encountered a pair that was fighting.

They faced each other before taking a step forward, lowering their heads and banging horns together.  Then, they stepped back and repeated, giving us a headache just watching them.  We tired before they did and moved on.

At about the same size as a rabbit, dik-dik’s are the smallest species of antelope. 

We didn’t see any of them out in the park – as they probably would have made an easy appetizer for a predator – but a few did breach the security of our hotel to graze the lawn.

Only slightly less uncommon than leopards are cheetahs.  While cruising around the park, we found one with her two cubs. 

They weren’t doing anything, but Nicholas told us something was going to happen, so we waited.  Sure enough, she quickly disappeared over the horizon and re-appeared a few minutes later with a Grant gazelle in her mouth. 

We then drove a bit closer to watch her and her cubs eat their meal.

The following day we saw the same three, this time being followed by two adult males.  Apparently before being able to mate, the adult male would have to kill her cubs. 

We parked to watch an anticipated fight, but she never left her cubs’ side and eventually the males backed away.

The main attraction of Maasai Mara is its huge lion population.  Within our first half hour in the park we came across a pride of lions.

Over the next few days we saw many, many more. 

Including females..

One lonely male up and close…

several couples…

 

and cubs…

It got to the point we all suffered from a bit of lion fatigue.  I was busy taking pictures of Sarah instead of watching these two….

…and almost missed what they had in mind. 

On our last day at we packed our lunch so we could stay out all day, and Nicholas made the long drive to the Maasai River. This is the best place to watch the annual wildebeest migration, although we missed it by a few months.  We instead watched the hippos sunning themselves in and out of the water.

We returned to our hotel completely satisfied – the safari had more than exceeded our expectations – not only did we see the “Big 5” but crossed off 24 of the 57 large mammals on our field guide.