Wildlife Pics Here
Flamingo Pics Here
Week 32 Update:
Nairobi, Lake Naivasha, Lake Nakuru, Lake Bogoria.
Day 218:
There was no rush to wake up or get out of bed. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and it seemed to rain every morning between about 5am and 9am. Camping in the rain was never one of my favourite past times and with the abnormal amount that Nairobi had seen over the previous two weeks everything felt a little damp. The yard was so saturated with water that the slightest bit of precipitation would turn parts of it into a mud bath. Being the veterans that we were, we knew exactly where to park Maggie to avoid any sticky stuff on our normal daily comings and goings.
The other fun part of a wet city was that power cuts became more and more regular. The big transformers they used in Kenya apparently weren’t as waterproof as they should have been. This meant that every once in a while we heard an all mighty explosion in the middle of the night as yet another one blew up. On one such an occasion we even saw the sparks fill the night sky as the street lights suddenly went off. So, no power meant no hot showers, no TV and no Internet, turning our lazy stay in the Kenyan capitol into a more respectable African adventure.
If I could have had my way we would have left the city that day, but alas we were stuck there. In the morning we were waiting for a delivery from a courier. After the wallet got lost a week or so before Catt had ordered new bank cards which were due to arrive that day. We hung around talking none sense with the people at the camp site and by mid day decided to prepare a lunch feast. The weather had improved slightly so we even sat out in the garden. It was all very comfortable and familiar and even the two dogs, Pippa and Pumba, were so used to having us around that they slept by our feet.
By 14:30 we had not seen or heard a whisper from any courier and we had to leave. We had to pick our passports up from the Sudan embassy that opened their doors at 15:00 for collections. At that time the tent was relatively dry and the mud had subsided enough for us to drive through it without damaging the camp site too much. We stopped by the embassy right on time, walked in, signed in and as we stepped into the building we realized that we had left the receipts for our passports at the camp site. I could just see how we had wasted a whole other day in Nairobi and hated that!
Catt walked up to the counter, smiled at the friendly lady behind it and explained our misfortune. She smiled back and said: “I remember you… You have a British and South African passport. No problem. Don’t worry about the receipts…” I was impressed! That moment right there contradicted everything I had read and heard about the Sudanese paperwork nightmare we were heading for. It did take an hour before the passports were being handed out and we were very unprepared for the waiting room game. We read the Satellite TV guide cover to cover multiple times and watched soccer commentary in Arabic with Arabic subtitles we did not understand. When the lady returned she had a hand full of passports and simply waved them around until the owners took possession of them. I found ours and apprehensively opened them to see if we were granted our 14 day visas. I was also expecting to have to pay another $50 each as we were told the fee was $100 a person and we had only paid half of that the day before.
I was absolutely delighted to find that the visas in Nairobi were in fact only $50 each and that we had been granted two month tourist visas instead of the 14 day transit visas travellers before us had reported on. As we walked out of the embassy and got back into the car I realized that that was in fact the easiest tourist visa I had ever had to apply for.
Back at the camp site the power was back on and we started following up on the credit card courier without much success. The self tracking website simply listed that it was in transit. We had decided to run out of the city for the weekend. The plan was to take delivery of the cards the next week, make our final arrangements and do our final paperwork and then leave Nairobi for good after that. Duncan, the JJ manager would off course argue that we would never ever leave his fair establishment, but I felt confident.
That night we managed to SKYPE with Catt’s parents while cooking some food on our modest fire in the only dry part of the camp site where we had set up camp. Annie told us that she had communication with the courier company who came up with some lame, ridiculous and completely untrue excuse for not being able to deliver the package to us two days earlier. Their solution was to “return to sender”, so as we sat there, the cards were on their way back to sunny old England. I felt like screaming! I felt like swearing and I felt like crying all at once, but there was nothing we could do to rectify that nasty development.
Within an hour we had made the decision to leave Nairobi only one more time. Instead of disappearing off for the weekend, only to return the Monday and do the last few things needed in preparation for the second leg of our mammoth adventure, we would finish up in Nairobi as soon as we could and leave…
Day 219:
The familiar pitter-patter of raindrops on the tent woke me up after sunrise and I felt a little miserable. I so desperately wanted to avoid spending another weekend in the city, but none of the arguments I could come up with to support that dream were strong enough to overcome the common sense of completing all business and paperwork first, avoiding another trip to the fair city.
We could not leave that day as we needed some official stamps from the Immigration office in Nairobi. The route we planned on taking to Ethiopia, along the eastern shores of Lake Turkana had no customs or immigration at the border. This meant that the passports and, more importantly, the Carnet de Passage had to stamped before we left the city. That in turn meant that we had to wait until the Monday before we could leave. I guess we could have gone to Lake Naivasha, a couple of hundred kilometres up the road, but we had planned to go that way when we left anyway, so it made little sense to ad an unnecessary 400km round trip to our troubles.
So the morning began with the task of making a final to-do list and checking the levels of all supplies. We read some articles on our future territories of interest and spent some time chatting to Paul and Jan, Australian Bikers who had travelled from that direction. They had some handy tips about the tribes of the Omo Valley and the general way of life in Ethiopia and Sudan.
In the afternoon we walked to a butcher to stock up on some meat and by the time we returned to Jungle Junction, it was “beer o clock”. The Irish had returned from their adventures to the Masai Mara. They were excited and full of stories of their experiences, but started the friendly banter about that night’s rugby match between Ireland and South Africa. I was very non South African in that respect as I really couldn’t care less about a game played with a funny shaped ball. There was however no doubt that I would have had to endure some amount of abuse if my countrymen lost the game.
The weather that day portrayed my mood and when it was time to have dinner we decided to sit at the dining room table inside the house rather than hide under our awning by the Maggie. I think Catt felt a little sorry for me as she spoilt us with two different kinds of cake, baked on the Cobb in the rain. Our backpacking friends Andrew and Lucy were highly impressed and insisted that we watch a movie with them, and drink some more wine… which we did. The night felt strangely normal and modern and far removed from travelling across Africa by 4 x 4 and I wasn’t too sure that I liked it. I fell asleep half way though the film and vaguely remember waling up to move my carcass to the tent at some point.
Day 220:
It did not rain in the morning and the camp site was quite lively from an early hour. It seemed that everyone was packing up to leave. Andrew and Lucy were heading north towards Mt Kenya and watching them march through the gate with rucksacks and bags in hand I did not envy the back packing lifestyle one bit! Paul and Jan took hours to pack up their belongings and stack them onto their motorbikes. It all seemed like a massive effort and quite uncomfortable to handle the weight on the bikes. As they started their engines and pointed their machines towards the gate a light rain started. I did not envy them either! The Irish were the last to leave the camp site. They were 5 adults in a 4x4, smaller than our two person Land Cruiser… I did not envy them one bit.
We were left behind with a British man who had ridden a bicycle from London to Cape Town and who was on his way back. While plugging in every battery we owned to charge while the electricity was on I chatted to him about the simplistic way of travel and the gear he carried. His complete life on the road weighed less than my camera box. I was a little jealous. We started talking about our respective plans and I was astonished to learn that he was considering taking on the Lake Turkana route we were planning. He was going to do it solo and on a bicycle. I was impressed! In the five weeks that we had been in Kenya we had not heard of a single traveller using that route. We had decided to attempt it whether we found someone to travel with or not, but that was in an ultra reliable and very well equipped Land Cruiser, taking about five days. The mileage we were talking about would keep a cyclist busy for at least two weeks.
The morning faded away fairly quickly and the list of things to finalize became shorter by the hour. We took a walk to the supermarket to find the last of the supplies we wanted and returned by the late afternoon to a seemingly deserted camp site. . Claudia and Michael’s tent was still there, so we assumed that they were on a day trip only. We had been used to sharing the place with around twenty other people up to then and the fact that we were the only ones left only punctuated my desire to leave.
In an attempt to escape the feelings of frustration I was feeling I read some of my favourite travel forums and blogs and found this:
WHY WE DO IT
"'Why do you do it?' friends often ask, perplexed,
Brows raised, minds sorely vexed.
'The world out there is dangerous!
Aren't you scared? Why do this?
You need steady work, a house, two cars!
You have only a motorbike, and sleep under stars!'
Dear friend, if you must ask, you cannot know
This curiosity that drives me so.
To you it is hidden; in me rises unbidden!
But one day the world I'll have ridden
By iron steed, then perhaps this need
Will have vanished, finally vanquished!
That day will find me on deathbed,
With no regrets for the life I led.
Will you be able to say the same?
Or will you despair a life worn plain?
I will stake my Himalayan memories
Against your estate of a thousand trees.
Pit my Thai sunset
Against your private jet.
Weigh my horse rides at sunrise
To your Italian suits and ties.
I'll rejoice in friends before I go,
Not the figures of my stock portfolio.
And, amazingly, there are more like me;
They reject slavery, and are truly free.
They took the chance we all had,
And honestly it makes me sad
That you didn't.
You thought you couldn't...
What?
Live without the luxuries
Of all our modern amenities?
You choose the bonds of mortgage, but claim to be free,
Wasting a lifetime absorbed by TV.
Why watch it? but live it!
One life's all you get!
Don't put off 'til morrow and continue to borrow
The lives of strangers; 'tis the greatest of dangers
To the soul
Which grows old
Before its time.
Hercules, Columbus,
Guevara, Odysseus,
Champlain, Agamemnon,
The list goes on...
What have they in common?
Regardless man or god,
The soil of continents they trod,
Not in search of gold but adventure!
Not growing old 'cause they ventured
Far from safety; but far be it from me
To Judge...
--------------------
The pitiless pity us
With souls black pitted.
Pray! save it for those less spirited.
For us... our horizons are unlimited."
by James Richmond, Canada, in India
I felt much better about being in a camp site in Nairobi instead of a house in a city where Monday would force me to go to work. Instead, the Monday I had in mind had all the promises to be spectacular!
Day 221:
The rain woke us up in the morning… again. I didn’t mind so much as I knew it was the day to leave Nairobi and continue our adventures in the proper way we had set out to do. When I double checked the suspect shock absorber I could clearly see that it was not leaking at all, which made me happy. However, the oil that the mechanic saw on it before the weekend clearly came from the dif. It was quite clearly a pinion seal that was leaking. The good news was that it was easy to replace and easy to come by. The best news was that the place to buy the seal was fairly close to immigration in Nairobi, so after the normal morning rituals we set off down the horrible hill, fighting the late morning traffic and arrived at the place I had extended my visa a week or two before.
Parking was quite hard to find and when I eventually followed the example of my Kenyan brothers and sisters I squeezed Maggie in between a taxi and a game drive vehicle. The theory was that extending a visa only took 20 minutes, so getting an exit stamp should be easier. Only before I made it across the road I was reprimanded by a man in cammo uniform with an AK47 in hand and trigger finger uncomfortably close to the dangerous part of the gun. He categorically told me that I was not allowed to park there and I had to move immediately. I was a little taken aback and pointed at the other cars around me, making no attempt at the false friendliness I often had to resort to when spoken to by false people with false power. This IDIOT told me that they were all government registered vehicles. When I asked why they all had private number plates Catt gave me “the look” and your man with his prissy little AK47 did not seem amused. I moved the car. Found a space in the closest car park and paid a whopping $3 for the pleasure. With parking dealt with and taking half the time I had allocated for the stamp collection I walked into the immigration office in a less than great mood and slightly hurried.
What can I say…? Africa put me right back in my place within seconds! We stood in a cue for another ten minutes. The official handed us exit forms to fill in (Neither one of us thought about taking a pen into the office) and told us to go to Room 18. We borrowed a pen from another Mzungu and after completing the false information no one ever looks at on the form that no one would ever understand we skipped down a dark corridor to room 18, which was locked. This was already 30 minutes into the exercise so I looked at and quietly said: So darling… another night at Jungle Junction then? I promptly received my second bollocking for the day but at least my darling wife did not pack a weapon of mass destruction. Back at the counter we were told that our other option was to see Mr. Grumpy who granted me my visa extension. He still looked like the grumpiest man in Kenya, but we had no choice. So we patiently waited outside his little kingdom, eager to display acts of false friendliness and complete our business there. That took an hour! He was “busy”. When he finally did pay us attention it took ten seconds to explain our situation, twenty seconds to get the stamp and another five to say thank you and good bye. Walking out the building I smiled and said: “Hey, at least we got our money’s worth for the parking…” Getting the Carnet stamped was easy, fast and efficient. Don’t ask me why…
The spares shop was much more efficient and satisfactory. I explained what I wanted. The guy asked for Maggie’s frame number which I had on me, checked on his computer and came back with the correct part. The cost was $8 so I took 2. Catt had stayed in the car and when I returned she told me that some official wanted to charge us for parking in the street. Cleverly she waved the parking ticket we had paid for at immigration and apparently that satisfied him, so he left her alone.
Back at Jungle Junction the mechanics were hard at work on urgent repairs of bikes and another car. I told them what I needed and as it was lunch time we decided to feast on newly acquired fresh produce everyone that left the place donated to us poor souls who were still there. I was in no great rush. Our destination was only one and a half hours away and the fitting of the seal would only take around half an hour, according to the mechanic. I briefly thought about the possibility of the seal not fitting and had short flashbacks of being stuck in the great metropolis of Springbok on week one, but banned all negative thought from my mind immediately! Instead I went outside, found Michael and Claudia under a tree and commenced talking none sense, which I had become very good at!
At 15:00 I checked back in. I had already gone through the five stages of grieving: In the immigration office I started with denial. In the traffic on the way back to Jungle junction I hit anger many times. Over a plate of freshly cut pineapple I started negotiations with the clock. Sorrow stuck me right in the face when I saw no mechanic close to Maggie by 14:45 and acceptance came at 15:00 when I realized that we would not make our destination before dark and it was not worth leaving. Duncan laughed, recited his famous words of “you can check out any time, but you don’t ever leave this place…” and added another from to his occupancy file with our names on it.
Ben the mechanic was finally done at 17:15. It did only take him half an hour and he showed me that damaged old seal, confirming the diagnosis. We moved Maggie back to our dry patch of grass and joined the group of freshly arrived bikers in the lounge. It had started to rain again. At the point of acceptance earlier in the day Michael had offered to do a run to our favourite butcher so we signed up for a half kilogram of fillet to soothe our sorrows. He returned shortly after the rain started making noises about the difficulty of cooking on an open fire in the rain. There was a brief suggestion of frying up the beef in a pan on the stove, but I would have none of that! I lit the bag of charcoal in the light precipitation outside, waited for the desired temperature and started grilling the pieces to perfection. I did have one of the big shade umbrellas trapped between my knees, which I was sure looked really funny, but I was dry and the meat was gorgeous!
With full bellies and slightly happier heart we went to bed after midnight, feeling massively confident that we would finally leave the next day. The lesson was learnt: Never plan to leave a place on a Monday after having to deal with things in the morning. Thanks Africa for being such a good, diligent and thorough teacher.
Day 222:
Waking up in the rain again I could not actually remember the last time the tent was dry. At least we were dry inside it and mosquito free, so I didn’t mind too much. The other nice though t was that we were leaving Nairobi… Finally! When we got to the kitchen I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 9:30am. I could not believe that we had slept that late! I made an extra strong espresso.
Shortly after morning coffee we packed up camp, showered and started greeting our new friends at the place we had stayed for 10 nights! It was almost sad to leave… almost! Michael and Claudia had also packed up and by 11am the four of us drove through the gate, in the rain and headed towards the Great Rift Valley rim. The traffic in the city was light and we reached the outskirts quickly and easily. The hi-way towards Naivasha was in a surprisingly good condition despite rumours of pot holes and trucks. We passed a bank of bright pink curio shops advertising great views and cheaper curios and the “Perfect Photographic Point”. We did not stop. The view from there was far less spectacular than the view we had seen when we drove to the Masai Mara a couple of weeks before.
The road took us through some dense forestry land and up some steep hills to the top of the escarpment. When we started going down the hill again I spotted the magnificent Lake Naivasha right ahead of us. Over to our left, with its ancient and massive footprint in the bottom of the Rift Valley I saw the Mt. Longonot Volcano. The black towering volcano with sharp edges, surrounded by big black storm clouds played testament to the horrific havoc that it must have caused centuries before. It was truly a magnificent site and I had to stop to enjoy it. While taking a picture or two we were approached by some kids. Their linguistic skills stretched only as far as a simple greeting followed by “Give me something….” I explained, in the nicest possible way that in our culture we “exchange gifts” and as soon as they gave me something, I would reciprocate. I also said that begging was actually rude and wrong where I came from. One stared at me with a blank expression, another dug for more bogies in his left nostril and the third repeated his request… louder, as if I did not understand him the first time… What can I say, I tried.
It the town of Naivasha we left the main road and headed south-west along its magnificent shores. We passed massive greenhouses housing the flourishing flower farms in the area and just before the clock struck 13:00 we stopped at the gate to our chosen place to stay. Carnelly’s camp sat on the southern lake shore and took my breath away!
With massive grounds and Jurassic sized Fever Trees where we were actually allowed to drive on the grass and pick our spot, this was exactly the kind of peace and tranquillity we were after. I was slightly disappointed to find one other tent in the camp site, but they were actually packing up. After a scrumptious lunch I looked around and we were in fact the only people in a three hectare forest of huge trees and short soft grass. It was bliss!
In the afternoon we walked around the grounds. We watched some Colobus Monkeys at play in high canopies and ventured down to the jetty to look at the shining lake surface. Through the water I could see large schools of Bass and got excited enough to walk back to the reception to ask about fishing. The man informed me that I needed a fishing licence, obtainable from Kenya Wildlife in town for about $5. Had I known that before we arrived there and pitched our tent, I might have been tempted, but with Maggie parked and camp set up I simply did not rate it worth the effort. We walked past the impressive bar and could not help but take some pictures and make some mental notes. The spectacularly built structure used as much of the environment and positioning as possible and the atmosphere was very successfully created by large, brightly coloured cushions and big alcoves designed to hide groups from one another. I found it well thought out, well built and nicely finished… Pity the drink was badly overpriced!
The late afternoon arrived with a slight bit if misty rain which came down straight enough so our modest awning provided more than enough shelter. We saw some Hippo close to shore and where the boats were parked, but as the sun was setting an Askari came along and activated an electrified fence to keep the wildlife and humans separated. I was a little disappointed to be honest as I was looking forward to having some animals around our tent for a change.
We cooked a feast while celebrating our freedom from the big bad city and went to bed early for a change. It was deadly quiet and as dark as the inside of a cave. Bliss once more!
Day 223:
I could not believe the time when we finally got out of bed. Despite the fact that it had been a cold night, the darkness and silence lasted until just before sunrise. At that time the incredible noise of Egyptian Geese and Hadida Ibis’s echoed through the forest at half second intervals and no human would have been able to stay in slumber land. Around 7am however they seemed to have deemed the desired noise levels accomplished and grew quiet again. That was when we fell asleep for the second time… and eventually got up after 9am!
We had little to do and not far to travel, so we moved fairly slowly at first. We shamefully left the dishes of the previous evening unwashed, so while waiting for the fire boiler to heat the shower water we got that sorted. We packed up camp and had a second cup of the good stuff and only once all the chores were done did we venture towards the showers.
MY GOD! What we found there, hidden away in the Fever Tree forests along the shores of Lake Naivasha was a secret best kept over many decades of camping facilities. We had in fact, purely by chance, stumbled upon the best showers known to man! Not only were they so hot that you had to start by opening the cold tap fully before adding hot water to achieve your desired level of steaminess, the sheer volume of water coming from the pipes above were simply unbelievable! We stood there, under the welcoming lava hot waterfall with our jaws dropped and totally speechless. We had both experienced our fair share of showers before, but neither one of us had ever experienced a shower like that in our relatively short existences.
Needless to say that the shower lasted a fair old while and we finally checked out and left the heavenly blissful place an hour before mid day, as prescribed by their published check out times. We did briefly consider staying another day, but had to admit that there was nothing to do apart from waiting for the next wonderful shower. It seemed a little silly and it wasn’t as if we had had a stressful week before that to warrant doing nothing for another day. It was time to move on…
Our travels took us back to the town of Naivasha and further north along the main hi-way. We passed the second of the Rift Valley lakes, Lake Elmenteite. This lake was once a place of great flocks of Greater and Lesser Flamingos, but they had been over run and chased away by vast frocks of Pelicans… or that’s the way the story was told. The reminisce of days gone by was clearly visible in the names of the camp grounds and lodges and the curios offered for sale along the roadside, but everything seemed a little worse for wear. The feeling I got was actually fairly similar to the almost deserted Hollywood diner along the almost deserted American hi way where the obligatory tumble weed crossed your path before you pulled into the dusty car park, shared only by the Police Cruiser and the owners old Chevy… Yeh, something like that.
Our destination was the Lake Nakuru National Park and we reached the gates a shade before the lunch hour. We checked in and paid our formidable fees with smiles on our faces. We knew it was going to be expensive as hell, but it was Kenya’s most visited National Park, and it was still far cheaper than Tanzania’s cheapest… And apart from that, we knew they had Flamingos, which was confirmed again by the guard at the gate. Lunch however was fairly high on the list of priorities. We found the Acacia Picnic sport within five minutes of entering the park and were both already impressed!
It looked like an extension of the amazing camp site we had left earlier that day. It had a thick carpet of lush green grass underfoot and the massive shady trees made a tangible difference in temperature. We saw some huge horned Impala rams and a few Vervet Monkeys around, but nothing to indicate a nuisance. Through the trees we could actually see the lakeshore and the man at the gate was not lying… It was dotted in pink, rose pestle like drops and I knew it was going to be a good day!
We headed to the lake side without delay and found… well… millions of birds right on the edge. I did not know where to look, where to point which camera and which lens to use to get all the excitement recorded. Even through it was fairly close to the middle of the day the water was a hive of activity. Birds were arriving and departing and flying around without an obvious purpose. They were feeding and walking and making noise and smelling horribly! It was exactly what I had travelled to Nakuru for and I was NOT disappointed! We followed the lake’s edge for a while and identified the perfect place for the late afternoon photographs. It was still early and the guard at the gate recommended the Makalia Falls camp site on the far side of the park. We decided to check that out before making a decision on where to set up camp for the night.
On the way there we saw the obligatory ungulates and vast herd of Buffalo. Judging by the numbers and the principal of a pride of Lion only needing to eat one Buffalo a week, there was enough food to sustain many prides for many years! Sorry Buffalo…. We drove past a place known as the deputy HQ of the park and I was a little surprised to see a small, single engine aircraft and a tar runway cutting through the natural bush. I did read a sign about Rhino research, so guessed that they used the aircraft for that. As I was still thinking about this I saw a Rhino. He was HUGE and close to the road and completely caked in a light coloured mud. His face and legs were still black from being wet and he almost looked a comical two tone. He was working the camera angles like an old pro and the fact that we were the only people around made the sighting even more enjoyable and meant that the park impressed me even more than before.
As we arrived at the waterfall the rain started. I didn’t mind so much and in the light drizzle still managed a photo or two. I also managed to brew some tea and with charged mugs and subsiding rain we headed back towards the lake. Although that camp site would have been stunning to stay at, we were there for Flamingos and the camp by the main entrance was much closer to them! Within ten minutes of leaving the falls and almost sliding sideways in the mud down a steep hill, we spotter a movement in the grass and stopped to investigate. The herd of Impala we saw looked on edge and as they all looked in the same direction, we followed their gaze until we found him. A massive, golden yellow and huge maned male Lion. He was just chilling… In fact, he was so lazy that his eyelids kept closing and his head kept bobbing as he was falling asleep, but the Impala was not impressed by his lazy presence at all. He was lying at the base of a huge Fever Tree trunk in amongst some wild flowers and very green grass. It was as if Mother Nature had set up a studio for keen photographers and chose this majestic beast as the day’s specialty model. The studio came complete with soft, low lighting through the trees and we loved it!
We were however not there for Lions, so moved on without checking out the female on another fork of the road. We headed back past the runway and past the place we saw the mud caked Rhino and just before we reached the lake side forests again we saw some Giraffe… Well, to be fair, they would have been hard to miss as they were in the road. Not only that, but there were two pairs of males who were sparring… Not only that, but they were the rare Rothschild Giraffe and not the common one we knew well… Not only that, but the late afternoon sun shone on them, lighting them perfectly and the happy photographer inside me clicked away with no discretion at all! They were dwarfed by the massive trees in the forest and it was only when we came really close that we saw how big the Giraffe actually were. It was a sight to behold!
We were however not there for Giraffe, so moved on back towards the lake. We found our chosen spot on the flood plane and the birds were within spitting distance of the car. They were not really fazed by our presence and going about their lake afternoon lives as only Flamingos could do. In a moment of insanity I decided to try and count a block of them to estimate how many we could see. Needless to say that I could not even count far enough to total the small group right in front of us, never mind the sea of pink as far as the eye could see! The only thing missing was that afternoon light that was so nice on the Lion and the Giraffe. The sun had snuck in behind a big stormy rain cloud and it was so dark that I did not even bother picking up my camera. We waited, patiently for two and a half hours, but the sun never came. I did take some pictures and I did look in amazement as the majestic feathered masses flew low over the water and interacted with their neighbours. I turned around at one point and saw a female Rhino with a young calf in the wide open stretched between the lake the forest, but as we were there for the Flamingos, I was not about to move until I got the photos I wanted.
At 6:30 I saw the GPS turn into “night mode” and knew that the sun was behind the horizon. Our patience was not rewarded with photographs that day, but we did see one of nature’s incredible spectacles right in front of our eyes. It was not a wasted day! I was not disappointed in the park and I did not even mind paying the $170 for our 24 hour permit and one night’s camping. We arrived at our chosen camp site with its huge green trees and nice green grass, set up camp, hung the light and settled in fro the night. The night sounds were many and interesting and strangely soothing to hear around us. A herd of Buffalo came fairly close and snorted as they ran away and with that we decided to crawl into our comfortable bed for our second comfortable and dark night in a row.
Day 224:
Up before the sun peaked over the mountains in the east was the plan and that was exactly what we did. We packed up camp in that perfect harmonious way we had done so many times before and within fifteen minutes of opening our eyes, Maggie’s engine was purring and we were sipping on coffee while the GPS was finding the satellites. We bounced out of the camp site as the first rays of warmth hit the tops of the massive fever trees and headed straight for the lake shore. The mission was photographing Flamingos and that was what we intended on doing.
On the way there we found the Rhino with the little calf and paused briefly to say “good morning” and snap some pictures in the early morning glow. We saw the massive herds of Buffalo on the flood plain but did not care too much about them. Catt theorised that they were simply undomesticated cattle. I warned her about being outspoken like that and threatened to tell them what she said.
At the lake shore we parked up nice and close to the birds and watched the comings and goings for a while. I was sitting on the roof with the biggest lenses I had and got to take all the Flamingo photographs I had ever dreamt of. The Buffalo came closer and we spotted some Hyena, some Jackal and some other ungulates around. With us that stationary and that still and very few others traffic in the park, Maggie became the centre of the action! We were surrounded by amazing wonderful, colourful and beautiful wildlife and I loved every second of it. Once the data cards were full and the video camera’s battery was flat I got down of my perch and fired up the laptop to download. We had taken over 1 200 photographs of our feathered friends and I could not see an angle that we had not covered. The sun was getting a little higher and the light a little flatter, so we decided to venture further afield and see what we could find.
The track we chose to leave the lakeside had many dead ends and many detours. It was obviously the wet season and I was not about to get stuck in slippery, slimy mud within a herd of Buffalo. Speaking of which… I’m pretty sure that the Buffalo overheard Catt earlier that day. They were incredibly agro and aggressive towards us for some reason. They did not have many young, we were not blocking their way to the water or the forest and they weren’t particularly edgy to start with. However, in our driving around in desperate attempts to find the way to the main road, we got charged…. Twice… The first time was a youngish bull that made a terrible noise and started chasing after us. His horns were a few meters from the spare wheels on the rear bumper and he wasn’t attacking, but he was definitely explaining his displeasure with us. The second time we had just stopped before a muddy stream which I did not want to cross. I just slid Maggie into reverse when a big old bull charged my door. His head was swinging from side to side and he was snorting and making noise and kicking up dust until he was about three meters away. I looked at him with some confusion and calmly told him that it was Catt who called him a cow, not me. That seemed to settle it and he let us pass.
We found our way to the main road and passed the mother Rhino and baby once again. We drove towards the gate and camp site we had stayed at the night before and then joined the circular road around the lake. The usual weather patterns of cloud built up from mid morning was becoming evident once again but the sun was still shining brightly through the gaps in the clouds. The game was scarce and skittish on that side of the lake but the scenery more than made up for it! The Fever Trees were even bigger than the ones we had seen before and the snaking tracks through them were beautifully illuminated in patches where the sun broke through the sparse leaves. The only other place I had ever driven where the road itself was this beautiful was in Botswana’s Moremi Game Reserve where the Mopani trees in autumn colours lined the sandy tracks. These threes made a tunnel though, which made it even more impressive.
While ogling at the sheer beauty of the nature we found ourselves in a movement caught my eye and I hit the breaks. Right next to the road in the thick, almost impenetrable undergrowth we saw a Lioness’s leg pointing at the sky. We couldn’t see the rest of the old girl, but decided to stay a while and investigate further. We watched the outstretched paw for a little while and our silence and patience paid off within minutes. Another young female snuck through the dense bush and greeted the first one. They were both sat up and looking in the direction they had come from and within a minute or two we saw why. Three tiny little cubs joined them. We saw no more than flashed of yellow fur and rabbit like bouncing and kitten like pouncing as they struggled through the thickets. It was an amazing sight and made us giggle quietly in our hide away. We watched the family for a little while and when we heard the engine of another vehicle decided to move off and leave them in peace.
The road took us past the far side of the lake and up into the hills towards the waterfall we had visited the day before. This time the sun was shining on it and the sky blue behind it and we did not slide around in the mud like the day before. We stopped briefly for a coffee and to answer Nature’s call and heading down the hill towards the out of place tar runway we saw the biggest, muddiest, moodiest Buffalo bull I had ever encountered! From the onset this guy showed aggression. He took up a fighting stance and shook his head from side to side and snorted at us as we stopped. I was not going to stand for that at all, so I turned the car off and grabbed a camera. His was less than pleased by my act of defiance, but once I explained that I was not there to harm him and only wanted to take his picture, he shook the flies away from his head one more time and actually laid down in the muddy hole at his feet. I was starting to think that reasoning with the beasts was the way forward!
The last small detour we made towards the exit gate was a drive up to the top of the Baboon Cliff. I did not expect much and as we neared the place we had to fall inline behind a bus of local school children. Once we parked up I was convinced it was going to be one of those viewpoints where you get disappointed as soon as you look out over the rocky outcrops and thorny trees on the edge not so far away and the only reason for its existence was that the road builders used the place as a camp which the park’s authorities decided to capitalize on. We had been to our fare share of those from the Kruger Park to the Serengeti and everything in between!
Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the sight before us though! The cliffs did not look particularly high from the bottom, but standing at the top it looked out over the whole of the lake, the plains and the forests and the vast herds of game on the flood plains. The Flamingos looked miles below us and looking down at them you could see the flying ones silhouetted by the dark lake water and feeding ones the brightest pink you can imagine. Earlier that day I contemplated asking the pilot of the small aircraft about taking a flip over the lake. Standing at this particular viewpoint it was clear that an aircraft was totally unnecessary for an aerial view of the magnificent park. I silently praised the Kenya Wildlife Authority for delivering so much more than what was expected of a viewpoint in a national park.
With that little expedition out of the way it was time to leave. We had only 24 hours in the park and the hour glass was quickly running out. In the mid day heat the animals were inactive as they could be and without stopping too much more we reached the camp site by the gate half an hour before Bingo. We had decided to have a quiet lunch there before heading to our next destination and I decided to have a quick cold shower…. There was no warm water on offer.
As I reached my arm out under the spray of water to gauge just how cold I was going to get, a brand new theory about karma, balance and the universe came to me. That water was just slightly colder than a melting glacier and I was convinced I was being punished for enjoying the best shower in Africa the day before just that little bit too much. I was past the point of no return and I knew we were not going to have any facilities that night, so I simply had to brave it. I considered screaming like a little girl and the only reason I did not was because some maintenance guys had pitched up to check the water level in the tank. My pride was the only thing that stopped the yelping. So slightly cleaner and very refreshed I shivered out towards Catt and Maggie who both seemed to be laughing at me.
We left the park one minute before our 24 hours was up and congratulating ourselves from making maximum use of the money we had spent, turned into town for some fuel. The fuel man was taking unusually long to fill the tanks and when I got out to have a look I could clearly see that an air lock had occurred. This was a little strange as I had installed breather pipes to stop that from happening, but then again, seven months of dust, mud, grime and dirt was probably enough to block anything. I knew the fix would be quick and easy, but really didn’t feel like getting the spanners out on the filling station’s drive, so asked the man to round up the amount and leave it at that.
While this was going on I was approached, for the third time by the same hawker who was trying to sell me a South African flag. I declined his kind offer twice before and confirmed my unwillingness to part with money by clearly saying: “Nothing for me thank you. I do not want to buy anything today…” Mr relentless either had a hearing or understanding problem though as he kept asking me about buying different things. I was just about to loose my temper when re-enforcements arrived. Not mine, but his. It was comical! Another hawker with the same wares started offering me the same things, one by one and refused to understand that I was not going to buy anything. I pointed at no 1 and said: “I have told you politely a few times, so the next time I will be rude… do you understand?” He shook his head to confirm his understanding. I pointed at No 2 and said: “You are new, so I will tell you politely one more time, and then I will be rude… do you understand?” He confirmed as well and I felt as if I was making headway. Then, out of the blue No 1 offered me a knob kierie (Masai bludgeoning weapon) I pulled my police baton out from next to my seat, pointed it at him and said: “I told you I will be rude, so FUCK OFF!!!” He smiled and answered that sometimes people change their minds and did not move his feet at all. I had to give the man his dues, he surely was persistent. The whole thing then turned into a game and I got out of the car, police baton in hand and demonstrated my considerable skill with my weapon of choice. The man with the kierie showed off his skill and we had a little sparring contest right there in the street before they both bade us “safe travels” and walked off. I was dumb struck!
We left the town of Nakuru well after mid day and headed north towards the next lake on the list. Lake Bogoria was said to have spouting geysers of boiling water and I was very keen to see what that was all about. Because of our early start to the day, our delay at the fuel station and the terrible state of the roads we eventually came to within spitting distance of the entrance gate when we saw the sign of salvation! Right there, at the perfect place was the Lake Bogoria Spa… with camping available. Maggie turned right in and before we could discuss anything further we were standing in front of the reception lady. Camping was expensive according to Kenya standards, but with the thunder clouds building and the park entrance even more expensive, it seemed the most sensible option. The fact that we were allowed to bathe in the natural hot spring and swim in the huge clear pool without extra charge sealed the deal. We would stay there and enter the park the next day.
A quick inspection of the camp site confirmed the decision and by 16:00 the tent was pitched, the afternoon coffee in hand and the swimming dealt with. Catt, who declined the glacial shower earlier in the day, had a lovely warm shower by the pool while the monkeys stole the bag of bananas from the back of the car. She did close the doors, but not on the latch and the little buggers employed teamwork to pry them open just enough to drag the bag through the gap. That was her punishment for avoiding the cold shower I thought.
Although there were storms all around us, the rain never hit us and we had a pleasant evening as the only patrons of the camp site. Dinner was dealt with swiftly and efficiently and after finding the light switch to turn all the campsite lights off we dragged our tired bodies upstairs and instantly fell asleep. It had been an exciting, but long day.
If I had to do it all again:
I would have left Nairobi for the weekend, chilled out at Carnelly’s on Lake Naivasha and headed back the Monday to deal with paperwork. The most valuable lesson I learnt after 31 weeks of African travel was that you can not, ever, accomplish things on a Monday and still leave the city you are in. The best advice would be to plan to leave the Tuesday, after completing your chores in a calm and relaxed manner on the Monday.
Apart from that, Naivasha and Nakuru were both an absolutely phenomenal experience!
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