16 Months Drifting

16 Months Drifting

little bee smallgirls smallThere is time to contemplate how far we’ve come, from Cape Town to Kenya, to the beaches of Mozambique. Jim asked me where I thought we’d be without the Garmin and Traks4Africa – I said “Back home and divorced by now.” We are happily long past the point when every other minute brought on another decision. Tension ran high; that’s what comes of the being way outside your comfort zone. What would we change, now that we have time to think about it? Nothing, really. We couldn’t have taken this overland trip any sooner in our lives and the best time to go is when you go. The route has been successful – we calculated we’ve been on beaches of some sort since November, can’t us smallcomplain about that. Neither of us has been sick. We’ve been through four different coffee presses, five decks of cards and one iPhone as well as countless cans of Peaceful Sleep insect repellent. We will not miss Opuwa street smallthe mosquitoes.

There are places to return to and some gaps to fill, next time. Driving Namibia for months gave us a full view of that endless country. Botswana needs another look, hopefully before this trip is over. We’ve already been to Zimbabwe twice and will go back again later this month, so much to see there. Zambia is a favorite, where I am positive we waved to every single person in that friendly country. Tanzania nearly broke the footnote 3 smallbank but with its iconic parks it could not be missed. Zanzibar showed us our first taste of the slavers coast plus powered-sugar white sand beaches. The side trip to Ethiopia, that exotic place, was perfect. Camel camel two smallcaravans hauling salt into the sunset – what a scene.

Rwanda – a sobering lesson in humanity. One day we came to a nondescript village and it was time to get out of the truck. A large Genocide Memorial stood out, as in every single town and village. Only this one wasn’t quite finished yet. The very young security guard called an older gentleman to show us around this newly built but empty building. And the blank walls spoke as loudly as any placards. The hollow hallways echoed the footsteps of everyone who would never walk tmamba smallhere. Finally we found ourselves in a basement containing 38 coffins, displayed neatly as if in a show room. Some had framed photos propped upon them, others had snapshots scotched-taped to them. To our undying surprise, the guide opened a coffin and handed us a small human skull. All these coffins have skulls, he said. At this location a church was bulldozed with thousands of people in it. His children are here, in one of the coffins. He shared his photos of them with us. We thanked him, signed the guest book and drove away. Rwanda; a country where everything is new because there was nothing left.

mother child smallThe primates in Uganda revel in the simplicity of life. We camped, all alone, in the Kibale forest and had a troop of 50+ baboons invade the clearing; they played, groomed each other and goofed off all morning, just having a good time being together. On the eastern side of the country we came to one of our better decisions – we really wanted to drive a certain road to enter Kenya. On the map it looked totally doable. But it was raining. Hard. And pondering the options,green pigeon small we bypassed that road only to later meet a couple who had taken it; a heart-stopping track, they said “like driving on butter.” We spent a few minutes patting ourselves on the back for not going there. Of course that was prior to being desperately stuck in the mud twice in one week.

misshapen smallKenya, that most organized of countries, gave us so many new friends. Eldoret town, Lake Turkana, the National Museum, JJs in Nairobi, Samburu Park, the fabulous Twiga and Barefoot beaches, Malindi town – I would go back to Kenya tomorrow. It took days for me to get kidepo road smallover leaving Twiga; I kept asking myself why we left. But leaving there led us to Malawi and to time spent with our friends Jen and Jared. And on we go; more of Mozambique to see, more Zimbabwe, South Africa and camping with Adrian and Rentia, Swaziland, Lethoso, Botswana . . . where will it end?

A New Year

A New Year

girls 2 bigDid you know it is a Kenyan tradition to go to the beach on January 1? Now that is a tradition worth keeping around – dress up and come to the beach for a day. Forget your troubles, walk the shore, swim. Have a picnic. Camp.  Carloads of people came to Twiga from nearby Mombasa to do all that. And now one can take the Nairobi-to-Mombasa train, that’s a popular service, and drive the short distance to Diani or Tiwi beaches.  At the end of the firkids smallst day of the new year, hundreds of Kenyans were walking up and down the shore dressed in fantastically colored robes and scarves and perfecting an already perfect scene.The color combinations were glorious – as bright and neon as the fish in the tide pools. It was a sight to behold. A full moon shone on us all on and now, today, nearly everyone is gone.
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It is day twenty-two of our anchorage on this shoreline. We drove in and parked and haven’t moved camp since. Along with our neighbors, Gustav and Nancy, we are the only campers taking advantage of the unobstructed view camping on the sand affords. Gustav regularly camps at Twiga – he and Nancy have children. Imagine being a seven-year old boy and spending days on end at the beach. Yes. Some campers and picnickers we visited with bao smallhave been coming to Twiga for years. One motorcycle group was ending a 37-year stint of basing at Twiga for the holidays; they drove away for the very last time a couple of days ago. Several big overland tours have come and gone. They park down the way from us, back in the trees and we wouldn’t even know they were there but for the visual. One of my favorite camp supporters is Abdul the fruit seller who comes by with his bicycle basket full of apple mangos, pineapple and whatnot. He has been doing this for 25+ years. Fish sellers sand dollar smalloffer the freshest catch and they will filet it for you right now. Coconuts carved into darling little monkeys are the curio rage – Gustav tells us the coconut animals change every year. If I could think of a place to hang it I would buy one. Or two. There are trees behind the beach that form a dark shady canopy for monkeys, birds and campers. There is a stupendous baobab tree smack in the middle of campshell small. Just down the shore is a little restaurant where if (when) you finally tire of lukewarm beer, you can get a cold one from the bar. The camp staff does a remarkable job keeping things clean considering there are people and monkeys to tidy up after.

Gustav and Nancy invited us to celebrate New Year’s Eve with dinner 1 smallthem and their friends; Gustav procured a huge white snapper fish plus a local chef to prepare it. Those delectable apple mangos made a salad, Pauline made her famous calamari, cardamon sweet potatoes in coconut milk rounded out the menu and for dessert Jim and I baked a chocolate cake and a vanilla cake. There were no leftovers. Of anything. Happy New Year.

Into the Rift

Into the Rift

blue smallEldoret is about an hour east of the Ugandan border; the town has a busy fabric production industry and an agriculture base with wheat and cane crops. Traffic is nuts as is often the outcome of people being able to afford vehicles and no time or money available to upgrade streets. Robots (traffic lights) have been abandoned, hanging in pieces at intersections. Roundabouts are more efficient anyway and traffic policing creates jobs, a handy band-aid. By all appearances Eldoret is a twenty-first century Kenyan city, if a bit bedraggled. Here on the eve of the latest Kenyan elections the atmosphere is tense; there are very few superb star smalltourists. People tell us tourism has been dismal since August, and we are warmly received  at the Naiberi River OverLand Stop for a four-day stay.

Created by Raj Sarat, a Kenyan-born Indian man whose family has been in Eldoret three generations, each Overland campsite features covered areas with lots of room, expanding our real estate by about 100 percent – a big plus since it is raining cats and dogs periodically every day. There is a place to hang damp clothes under cover and a clothes line out in the sun should the sun shine long enough. We pull in, level the truck, unroll the Fiama awning, and set up dinner in about 15 minutes. The neighboring campers are just returning from Lake Turkana, our next weed smalldestination, and they have excellent road information; we talk about the huge dam being built in Ethiopia that will impact the northern tribes. It would be interesting to return here in 10 years to see how it all falls out – the dam, the elections, life.

In no hurry, we stay four days at Overland Stop then take off for Lake Baringo. Without any preamble the road climbs to the summit of the Great Rift Valley then drops us down into the valley floor with a thud. Leaving behind the rain and greenery we have now landed in the arid tribal lands of Northern Kenya. Welcome to the Great Rift Valley. Running from Israel to Mozambique, the rift will in time push the massive chunk of Africa to its east off of the continent and into the Indian Ocean. baringo smallWhere we will be when that happens? Maybe colonizing Mars. One can hope.

At Lake Baringo the shore is cluttered with drowned trees and the ruins of resorts, boat docks and houses. The lake has risen to bury 100 meters of land and everything on it under water. Where men herded their cattle, they now guide birdwatching boats for tourists like us. The rise was gradual but inexplicable, caused by water seeping up from the Rift, aided by heavy rains and climate change. The lake is still lovely but the only way to see the shore is from the water, there’s no beach to walk along. Birding is good as the boat can maneuver into shallow coves and hidden places. The guide procures a couple of fish from a local and we chum for Fish female smallEagles – the eagles know the boat has a treat and they put on a show. Two other couples are camped with us and we all sit down one morning with our maps to share road information and stories, then everyone goes off in different directions. Our direction is to Lake Turkana, and back in time we go.