Laze in Lamu

Let us resume our tale from our starting point in the last exciting episode of Jo and Edd’s amazing adventures; waiting for a plane that was late.

‘And why were we awaiting (ohhhhh alliteration, clever) said aircraft?’ I hear you ask. Well read on to find the numerous reasons for making said trip.

Now let me give you a bit of background to the blessed city so that you may understand the wonders that awaited us. Lamu is (apparently) one of the major cities of Islam, two pilgrimages there being worth one to Mecca. It is an ancient Swahili city more than a thousand years old whose origins have been lost in legend. Refuge of Kings in its day it was a city of learning to match any in the world. Home of an unsurpassed (again sadly in it’s day; now rather smelly) sewage system it sat on trade routes which made it drip with wealth. The streets are so narrow that cars are banned and donkeys are the main transport. The surroundings are long white beaches surrounded by (duh) sea filled with the most deliciously yummy fish and surmounted with sleek and graceful Dhows. The houses are cool and airy with vestibules backed by fabulously carved doors and filled with friendly and welcoming locals chatting away on their mobiles (hey nothing’s perfect).

And into this island paradise came Joanna’s sister Christina, who slept. I leave it to her to defend herself below, but you can make up your own mind…

We stayed in a house in the old part of Lamu, with two house boys who turned out to be excellent cooks although we were not so sure about the drop toilets (which were rather stinky) or the mossies. Our time was spent eating, snorkling, sailing, lounging and eating. Wonderful. Hilariously, Tom got sunburnt.

It was in Lamu that the perfect charity idea (read way to get money out of dupes) was stumbled upon; this being to have a society for the protection of donkeys and poor children. Both of these would appear on the literature, the money would pour in, and we would spend our time deciding which tropical paradise had the most needy donkeys for us to look after; on the beach whilst learning to scuba dive/kite surf. Hello ‘the Donkey Sanctuary’ from Sidmouth. Incidentally, they got £22.8 million income and they don’t even have the starving and needy children.

From Lamu it was a short flight to Malindi, also on the coast, where our budgeting was shown to be a bit out. Having flown to the airport we then had to walk into town. The highlight of Malindi for us was going to a swimming pool. Basically, don’t take Brits on holiday anywhere hot in winter. They melt.

It was then onto Mombassa by very keen matatus where we spent a happy few hours visiting a Hindu temple?!?, wondering around the old town (not the same after the treasure that is Lamu) and looking at Fort Jesus from the outside. Fort Jesus is typically African in that they have a bloody great castle but still leave cannons lying around to rust away on the beach. Highlight of this day was ice cream. Seriously, Brits in hot weather…

We then got the train from Mombassa to Nairobi, a marathon 14 hour journey and one of the great train rides in the world. The train bounces along the track like Roo on speed, only without the speed and incredibly slowly. After two hours we must have only been 20 miles from our starting point. The line runs through Tsavo, home of the famous man eating lions reckoned to have killed over 120 workers involved in the construction of the railway and home to a mammoth (geddit) number of elephants. Again in typical African style, this part of the journey takes place at night.

From there we went to Hells Gate with family May– a gorge on the South side of Lake Naivasha and one of the only national parks in Kenya you can walk and cycle in (they only have the occasional lion there now) although we still took a matatu. Our driver deserves a mention as he was very game, going down tracks that were for 4x4s only without a blink whilst everyone sat white with fear in the back. I think that Naivasha deserves a return visit some time in the future.

Then it was time to say goodbye to our family and time to relax in the beautiful surroundings of Karen, aka Wimbledon in the tropics. We consoled ourselves by scoffing Easter eggs.