I set from the great city of Chuka headed to Mombasa by night bus in the company of a great friend; yeah that's another thing i hadn't said- Everything about this town is great- this writer is too. The ten hour journey was long and uneventful.
I spent a day in the city reminiscing the sweet times I had there a few years back. Nothing much has changed since them days. The city of tourists and beach boys/girls is still ablaze with money love and the hopes for quick luck without breaking a sweat. The night life is still great, I won't mention where i stepped for my patronage shall remain a silent memory till next time.
However from that experience, we travelled by land destined for Lamu. The squeaky bus seats were dirty from repeated un-cleaned perspiration from the hundreds of passengers that had to endure the heat of the journey. The power sockets were not working thus my phone went uncharged and the Wi-Fi access was only a marketing tool since I never saw an indication of any network throughout the journey.
The smooth tarmac carried us through the town of Malindi and past the Sabaki or Galana Bridge (depending on where you come from). Then the rough patch started. The road showed signs of having been tarmacked then coated with murram in a weak try to smoothen the pot holes. Three hours on that section and the stomach was ready to start spilling its contents. I could feel every iota of food in the intestines threaten to burst out.
Some sense of relief took over at the Garsen Junction where there seems to have been some recent work on a new tarmac sadly, thirty minutes later we landed a patch that has never seen tarmac. I almost ate my tongue when someone stated that the road was like that all the way to the Mokowe Jetty, which was the last point on the main land before the crossing. Two hours later and I could not have been more relieved to hear the words that we had reached our destination.
In all the complaints here, someone might be tempted to think that I did not enjoy the trip. Far from that, the scenery from Mombasa to Lamu changes in such spectacular fashion that the roving eye keeps the mind thinking about the changing lifestyles of the populations spanning the vast land areas.
From the mangrovy vegetation near the port, coconut farms in between, large sisal plantations of Kilifi and surrounding areas, the large semi arid areas in the garsen areas to the dense forests near mpeketoni back to the mangroves at Lamu. The occasional playful monkies along the bushes or daring death by rushing past the flying vehicle served moments of cruel excitement as I longed for that one that will be too slow for the driver. From all indications, I knew that braking would not be an option if any lazy ape miscalculated the crossing. I just hoped that if it ever happened, the animal would have the courtesy to hit anything below the headlights level, above that would be a disaster for us in this alien land.
I had the time of my life in this island, the high speed boats, sullen donkeys, squeeziest streets in the world and most confused settlement ever seen in a non-slum setting. I even posed for photos at some pre-historic cemetery, swam at Shella beach and something else that I may not wanna confess at the moment, perhaps my grandchildren will discover that themselves. Bottom line is I am coming back Lamu, you still got my debt of pleasure and this time the show will by fireworks we will not be aliens to one another, there will be holding back… bye for now
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