Oh! How I Missed Home (Part 2)

I don't know about others but i'd say winter is practically here with us. How'd I know so? Well for starters I’m trying to get this blog under way but all I keep doing is running back and forth to the washroom to blow out my nose.

Okay doesn’t go to say that back home, a running nose is unheard of, actually quite contrary. In Kenya we get a lot of it. I would say its mostly caused by dust. Yes; dust. I used have frequent trips down to the coastal city of Mombasa, Malindi and generally right up and down the coast of Kenya.

There was a time there was lots of constraction going on along the highway that connects Nairobi and Mombasa.

This wasn’t the ordinary kind of constration. Well in most senses it was but there was one peculiar thing about part of the route this road took.

A section around Athi River town known for its production of cement had deposits of fine white dust that got into one’s everything and at first it seemed like just another day crossing the African plains only to be hit with the consequences a couple of days later.

Just a thought. Isn’t cement supposed to harden when wet? Just a thought. Okay then why does it draw out all reseves of mucus when it goes into the nose. I wonder.

So anyway. The trip to the coast by bus could be described as a task rather than a journey. I am even thinking of developing a strategy game based on the same experiences. I will just mention a little bit about that down the line.

It all starts out at South C in Nairobi. Expected time of departure is 9:30 am and Expected time of arrival; 5:30 pm. Actual Time of arrival: Too forbidden to mention here.

Well you know its going to be a different day when the first thing you notice is that the bus is conveniently late and at that you begin to panic unnecessarily.

Here is the thing. Before it appears at the bus stop it starts out in Downtown Nairobi, picks up a few people and then hops on to South C to pick up the rest and at that point the bus is good to be on its way.

Clearly you begin to wonder whether you actually missed the bus and you keep going back to the loaders and ticket checkers to make sure that they are sure you aint missed your bus.

With more reliability than an old klunker the bus finally comes and we are on our way. I’d say the first twenty to thirty minutes of the ride is quite pleasant and one would be fooled that this is going to be the case until you get down to the coast.

Mlolongo is the place, the first huddle of the ride. Mlolongo basically means queue in swahili. In short it’s a badly planned and developed truck-stop. Well originally it wasn’t supposed to be a truck-stop but rather it was a weigh bridge for big rigs and all. So what would happen is, these 18 wheelers would back up for miles as they wait to get onto the weight bridge and so undesired forces turned it into an unintended truck-stop and to this day that is what it is.

What makes this place a nightmare is the fact that it has turned out to be basically the place the many construction areas begin. So what happens here is that traffic is diverted out onto some make shift road which can barely hold up to the wind let alone rain or even the weight of cars and tracks trying to get a grip on the loose dirt.

This is a place where you now get all sorts of noises produced by the bus and you wonder whether you going to end up with half a bus in the next half hour or so or if its all going to hold together. So its pretty scary at this point.

Did I hear sleeping? Forget it. Unless you had a shot of vodka or something close to that then there is no way you will get through this passively.

So anyway! With a bit of ambition and a will to survive we all hold on to our dear lives; I mean dear bus, or better still, both and finally get through that section and the one I mentioned earlier on at Athi River.

Well for the next normally three hour journey which is turned into a five hour nightmare low tonned curses can be heard emanating from all corners of the bus. This is because these diversions are at intervals of 10km and go for 20km. Yes I did get to measure the length. 20km per shake session it is.

Anyway, yeah. Just when you have gotten used to the rough patches you get hit with a worse nightmare. Just around Emali to lets say Sultan Hamud, by the way which is another track-stop.

Here you have to contend with deep muddy trenches. That can gobble up the biggest of buses. I once heard they found a ‘69 ford under there. Wonder what they did with it.

It’s common to find locals of this area making a quick buck pushing anything and everything out of the way. I think there is more to it that just lending a good samaritan hand. For starters, it makes good business sense in that the quicker they clear out the stuck car, it creates room for another unsuspecting victim to get sunk into the same mud hole. The more vehicles that get stuck, the more money that’s made.

Once past all that drama then the next thing is Mtito Andei. This is another truck-stop that usually doubles as the mid-way point of the route. So its good to say this is a great location to hang out for a meal or two as the bus crew and passengers take a break.

There is a lot going on here from greasy Samosas and Mandazis. To hard boiled eggs. When I say hard boild I mean that in a literal sense.

Then there is last evenings chicken or so it seems. Roast beef and mutton is at hand, sodas that have been on display in direct sunlight. Okay maybe we can live with Warm; rather hot sodas. But chocolates are subject to the same conditions and that’s just not right at all.

So after a refreshing half hour rest we go on our way until about 100 meters out the driver is forced to stop as a lady has been left behind. I wonder to myself. Why is there a lady always left behind? Scratch that.

Moving on. The next hour see’s the route snake through or rather in between Tsavo East and Tsavo West National Parks. Don’t get excited. You are highly unlikely to see and wildlife. Its probably like they know one has got to pay to see these animals and they are determined to keep it that way so they hang out miles and miles away from the road.

For the next and last two hours of the ride, the road is pretty pleasant and this is the time to take advantage and enjoy whats left of the ride. Yes, you will be a couple of hours late but you know what they say… “There is no hurry in Africa”.

As you keep snaking you way down to the ocean side you would know you are getting close when you suddenly feel like sweating profusely. The humidity will get to you but is has some kind of way of drawing one to the beaches which is after all, the intended goal of the trip any way.

Anyway not too bad a journey and for sure I long to be back in the white sandy beaches of Kenya sooner rather later. Maybe next year, God willing.