While working in Rome from 2006 to 2010 I walked from home to work and back. In that way, I managed to lose a good amount of weight. It was while walking through the Garbatella neighbourhood of Rome that I found this Land Rover, unfortunately abandoned.
It became a landmark during my walks and I could not help feeling pity for such a good machine to be left like that.
I drove a very similar one while working in Kenya in the 80´s and it never had a problem despite travelling about twenty 20 times a year for about five years to the Transmara area of Kenya.
The pictures show the bushsnob with Maasai moran visitors at Intona ranch in the Transmara of Kenya (left) and returning to Nairobi after a tricky drive through a muddy road up the Oloololo escarpment with Benson (left) and Joseph.
What it is: As it is known nowadays, the khanga (or kanga) is a typical East African cloth (150 cm wide by 110 cm long) made out of light and colourful fabric (cotton or synthetic). It shows a wide border (pindo) all around, a symbol (small motif repeated or big motif alone, or both) in the middle area (mji) and it is usually bearing a kiswahili saying (jina), or not. It is normally sold by pairs (doti) and is mostly worn by women.
There are many ways to wrap it around (Jeannette Hanby & David Bygott, “Kangas – 101 Uses” 1984). They can also serve in multiple ways: as baby carriers, head wraps, aprons, pot holders, napkins, towels and much much more, like for covering shoes, handbags and so on… Its designs can be representative or geometrical, or both together and its price always stayed low so that anyone can afford it. The extremely light khangas are called “nyepesi”, and are very good in hot weather.
It’s history: They originated in the midst of the 19th. century and were distributed along the East African great lakes and sea shores. One of the most ancient design is the Khanga Kishutu that was usually offered to young brides (see khanga N° 27). Khangas have much evolved since they appeared. Designs and fabrics have changed as to adapt to different contexts. At the beginning of the 20th. century, Kaderdina Hajee Essak, also known as “Abdulla”, started to create designs and marked them “K.H.E. – Mali ya Abdulla”. He often added a proverb in Kiswahili. It became common then to have a message which could be religious, political, promotional, historical or philosophical. It is a short sentence presented like a proverb or a motto and which can have different meanings. The more mysterious or ambiguous the better! The first khanga designs mostly included dots in the middle area. So the khanga’s name may come out of the African guineafowl (called khanga in kiswahili) which has many little dots on her dark plumage. Some people say that it might also come from the bantu verb “kanga” which means to wrap! At first the khangas were designed and printed mostly in India, then in the Far East and Europe. But since the 50s, Tanzania and Kenya developed their own manufactories. For example in Kenya: Mountex in Nanyuki, Rivatex in Eldoret or Thika Cloth Mills.
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“Apart from its protective and decorative role, a khanga is all about sending a message. It is the equivalent of the get well, greetings, or congratulations cards in the western culture but in this case the message goes a little bit beyond the normal meaning. For example, a fruit, a flower, a boat, or a bird could mean good upbringing or just the appreciation of beauty. On the other hand, a lion, a shark, or any such kind of dangerous animal could signal the sense of danger or a clear warning.” Quotation found in “Swahili language and culture” – http://www.glcom.com/hassan/kanga_history.html
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More information (history, culture, uses and examples):
Jeannette Hanby & David Bygott, from “Kangas – 101 Uses”, 1984, Kibuyu Partners, kibuyu@yahoo.com.
Why collecting khangas?
Attraction to them: Khanga, PinkShade’s mother, acquired her pseudonym because of her demonstrative and exultant love for khangas, both the guineafowls and the pieces of fabrics. I must say that she always cherished fabrics a lot and used to buy some all over the world and include them in her household. So when she discovered these East African cultural jewels, she enjoyed them very much because they express a joyful way of life, with beautiful designs, enriched by the sayings which are like enigmas challenging us to discover their meaning. For her first visit in Kenya, I offered her very first one, N°4, which says “SAHAU YALIOPITA”, meaning “forget about the past”. It was particularly accurate as she had just become a widow a few months before. Impressed by that significant gift, she couldn’t prevent buying a few different ones in every place where we brought her to.
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Surprising observation: At the end, when I noticed at her home a full drawer stuffed with bright colors, I realized that she managed to collect about 25 different designs, in only 3 short stays in Kenya. Not talking of the other khangas, coming from Tanzania, Madagascar and other countries.
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Recalling and sharing: Knowing that the British Museum had a collection of about 12, I thought that it wasn’t that ridiculous at all to make a little catalogue of her Kenyan textiles showing a picture of each, with some short references. She immediately asked to combine them with mine. But see, there is some funny inversion as I hardly have 7 of them, after having stayed in the country for about 4 years! And on top of that I bought only 5 of them. One was offered by a dear friend (the precious kishutu one, N°27) and the red, white and black one with nice palms (N°17), by my dear mother ! Anyhow, altogether it makes 30 khangas. Each of them folded in 5 and piled up all together, they reach about 48 cm high, not speaking about the weight which rises up to 6 kg!
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Conclusion: Now back home in Europe, we both think we miss the khangas so much, the richness of their diversity and their faculty to evolve according to events and fashions… so when do we set off and try to find some more?
Pictures and explanations of a collection of 30 khangas belonging to Pinkshade and Khanga follows and I hope you will enjoy them as much as I did. At the bottom I include a link to a PDF file where you can watch the original work from where I have adapted this post.
So, here there are for you to enjoy!
①
HASIRA ZA MKIZI TIJARA YA MVUVI
The anger of the cuttlefish is the gain of the fisherman
La colère de la seiche fait le bonheur du pêcheur
DESIGN N° 01-2479 MADE IN KENYA
Khangas which come in dark blue colour are normally called “kanga za magharibi” (dusk kangas)
Main subject: a swordfish and a dhow between two coconut trees
Owners: Pinkshade (P) and Khanga (K)
②
MAMBO SIBURE
Things don’t happen by chance
Rien ne se produit sans raison
or/ou
Things don’t look as they are
Les apparences sont trompeuses
N° RR 15187 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
MALI YA ABDULLA R/K1? (5 or 9)
Main subject: Peacock
Owner: K
③
TULIZA ROHO YANGU
Breathe my soul
Eveille mon âme
DESIGN N° 01-2490 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Coconut tree
Owner: K
④
SAHAU YALIOPITA
Forget about the past
Ne te préoccupe pas du passé
DESIGN N° 01-2470 MADE IN KENYA
Border including paisleys
Owner: K (gift from P)
⑤
IVUMAYO HAIDUMU
What roars does not last / What is famed does not last
Le succès perdure rarement
No references found… bought in Mombasa
Main subjects: Lantern and boats
Owner: K
⑥
UMEKUJA KUTEMBEA USIONDOKE NA UMBEA
You came to visit us, don’t leave with gossip
Tu es venu nous rendre visite, ne repars pas avec des ragots
DESIGN N° 06-3687 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Flowers
Owner: K
⑦
KIJANA USIBADILISHE TABIA YAKO
Young girl, do not change your behaviour!
Jeune fille, ne te laisse pas influencer!
DESIGN N° 01-3425 MADE IN KENYA
Geometrical and vegetation inspired
Owner: K
⑧
HASIDI JENGA SHULE SABASI ASOME
Jealous persons are building a school where hostility can be learned
Les gens jaloux créent une école où l’on peut apprendre l’hostilité
N° 06-3898 MADE IN KENYA
Main subjects: Cashew nuts and paisleys?
Owner: K
⑨
USIMUUTHI AKUPENDAYE
Do not envy the one who loves you
Ne sois pas jaloux de celui qui t’aime
DESIGN N° 01-3076 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Flowers
Owner: K
①⓪
SI MZIZI SI HIRIZI BALI MOYO UMERIDHI
If no roots, no charms, at least a heart you possess
Si tu es sans famille, sans beauté, il te reste néanmoins un cœur
N° RR 15934 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
R/ 190K.H.E. REGO. (MALI YA ABDULLA) MOMBASA
Main subject: mixed paisleys and flowers
Owner: K
①①
UPEMBO NA MTUNDAJI MWENYE MAKOSA NI NANI ?
Love is the reaper of who is at fault?
L’amour fauche celui qui est en faute ?
N° RR-15197 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Khangas which come in dark blue colour are normally called “kanga za magharibi” (dusk kangas)
Main subject: Mango tree
Owner: K
①②
HOHEHAHE HAKOSI SIKU YAKE
There are more than enough voices in this world (?)
Il existe au monde plus d’avis qu’on ne puisse entendre (?)
or/ou
There will always be a lucky day for the lazy loiter, do not miss this day!
Il y aura toujours un jour de chance pour le paresseux, ne manque pas ce jour !
N° RR 15366 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Inspired by vegetative subjects
Owner K
①③
MWENZANGU TUFANYE LAMSINGI
Dear friend, let’s build together strong foundations
Cher ami, tissons de solides liens
DESIGN N° 01•2686 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Cashew nuts?
Owner: K
①④
KAMA MVUVI VUA USICHEZE NA MASHUA
If you are a fisherman, fishes won’t play with your boat
Si tu es un pêcheur, les poissons ne joueront pas autour de ton bateau
ou
Comme on fait son lit on se couche !
ATLAS.D.N.4159.
Main subject: Fruit? Cherimoya?
Owner: K
①⑤
TUFURAHIE MIAKA 25 YA UHURU
Let us celebrate 25 years of freedom
Fêtons 25 ans d’indépendance
N° RR 15882 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
This model is part of the British Museum collections
It was created in 1988 to celebrate Kenya’s independence
Main subject: White mulberries?
Owner: K (doti)
①⑥
MPANGO SI MATUMIZI
The plan has not been applied
Le plan n’a pas été mis à exécution
N° RR 15818 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Handbags
Owner: K
①⑦
SEMA NAYE TARATIBU MPUMBAZE KWA MAKINI
Talk to them calmly and attentively
Parle-leur calmement et attentivement
DESIGN N° 06-3910 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Palm leaves
Owners: K and P (split doti!)
①⑧
MIMI NA WEWE HATUACHANI
Me and you are bound together
Toi et moi sommes inséparables
MOUNTEX NANYUKI KS 200
Main subject: Flowers
Owner: P (doti)
①⑨
HASIDI SI MTU KANDO NA JIRANI YAKO
A jealous person is never far from your neighbour
Il peut toujours se trouver quelqu’un de jaloux dans ton entourage
MOUNTEX NANYUKI KS 209
Main subjects: Grapes and hearts
Owner: K
②⓪
DUNIYA NI MATEMBEZI
The world is about walking, seeing and learning
Découvrir le monde, c’est marcher, observer et apprendre
ou
Les voyages forment la jeunesse
N° RR 15835 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
MALI YA ABDULLA 134
Main subjects: Seaweeds?
Owner: K
②①
NAPENDA LAKINI NASHINDWA
I would like but I am unable
Je voudrais bien mais je ne peux pas
DESIGN N° 01-2226 MADE IN KENYA
Khangas which come in dark blue colour are normally called “kanga za magharibi” (dusk kangas)
Main subjects: Orange tree and cashew nuts?
Owner: K
②②
USINICHUKIE BURE
Do not discriminate me for nothing
Ne me discrimine pas en vain
N° RR 15225 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Main subjects: Pineapple and mulberries?
Owner: K
②③
KUPENDANA SI AIBU
Those who love one another do not feel ashamed
Il n’y a pas de honte pour ceux qui s’aiment
N° RR 15865 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Border including paisleys
Owner: K
②④
AJIDHANIYE AMESIMAMA AANGALIE ASIANGUKE
Who thinks to stand firm should be careful not to fall
Celui qui se croit solide doit veiller à ne pas faiblir
DESIGN N° 01 3064 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Sunflower
Owner: P (doti)
②⑤
MCHUNGULIA BAHARI SI MSAFIRI
Who only looks at the sea is not a traveller
Celui qui ne fait que regarder la mer n’est pas un marin
or/ou
Dreaming is not enough, acting is necessary
Rêver ne suffit pas, il est nécessaire d’agir
MOUNTEX NANYUKI
Border including paisleys
Owner: K
②⑥
USISAHAU IBADA
Don’t forget to worship
N’oublie pas de prier / N’oublie pas de vénérer
N° RR 15468 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Khangas which come in dark blue colour are normally called “kanga za magharibi” (dusk kangas)
Main subject: the Taj Mahal !
Owner: P
②⑦
N° RR 15165 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
ANCIENT DESIGN KISHUTU
This khanga is said to have one of the oldest and most well-known designs. Called “khanga kishutu” it was traditionally worn on the East African Coast and Zanzibar by a bride on her wedding day. The design usually comes without a saying although sometimes it appears with a saying at the bottom.
The red-black-white ones like this one are called “khanga kishutu cha harusi”.
There is a blue version which is more popular in Mombasa.
This model is part of the British Museum collections
It somehow reminds of certain carpets designs
Owner: P (gift from a dear friend)
②⑧
USINILAUMU BURE
Do not blame me for nothing
Ne me blâme pas en vain
DESIGN N° 06-3462 MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Pineapple
Owner: K
②⑨
NIVISHE NILISHE UKISHINDWA NIRUDISHE
Dress me, feed me but If you cannot, return me
Si tu n’as pas les moyens de m’entretenir, oublie-moi
N° RR 15901 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
Main subject: Flowers
Owner: K
③⓪
UMSAFIAYE NIA MOYONI ANA MAWAZO
Those who have good intentions at heart (first) may have other thoughts later
Ceux qui ont de bonnes intentions au départ peuvent développer d’autres pensées
N° RR 16065 RIVATEX ELDORET MADE IN KENYA
This design looks like “Art Nouveau” style
Owner: P (doti)
[1] She chose “Khanga” as her pseudonym because of her fondness for these cloths.
This post is based on a brochure prepared by Khanga and Pinkshade. Here is a link to it:
I remember at least two year-end holidays spent in the Maasai Mara.
The fact that we camped outside the reserve gave us some liberties and sometimes we returned late to camp. That particular Christmas eve we were ending our game drive and looking forward to our Christmans eve dinner when we bumped on a group of six lionesses walking through the plains, clearly hunting.
As this offered a great opportunity because of the number of game present in the area, I managed to convince Mabel that it was a good idea to follow them for a while to see whether we could watch a kill. She reluctantly agreed.
After following them for a while, darkness fell and we realized that, oh surprise, we were lost again!
Unable to return to camp we decided to continue with our plan and kept following the lionesses and, to avoid interfering with the hunt, we kept the lights of the car off and navigated under increasing darkness until we only had the moonlight. We did switch our lights on sporadically to see where we were going and to avoid losing our quarry.
Suddenly the lionesses started trotting and soon we lost them. My attempt at finding them took us through some stony ground until we came to one where the bottom of our car touched the rocks and we got stuck on rocks!
Getting out of the car to jack it up was not an option so I revved the engine and moved the car backwards and forwards until with a metal tearing noise the Land Rover jerked backwards and we were free.
We were now alone as the lionesses had continued with their hunt and disappeared into the thicket! It was clear that our optimistic project had come to its (natural) end and we had no idea where we were!
Wisely for once, we decided that setting up our small tent and sleep in the open surrounded by lions (and other beasts of the darkness!) was out of the question so the decision was taken to slowly look for a flat piece of land, stop the car and settled down for our Christmas eve night.
Searching the car we found water and a panettone [1] baked by Mabel! We did not wait for midnight to celebrate Christmas but opened our bottle of water and toasted while we cut slices of panettone that we finished. After our improvised dinner we started listening to the lions roaring around us, probably also celebrating a successful hunt that we had just missed to witness. We thought that, after all, it was a good way to spend the night!
Panettone. Credit: Codice1000 at Italian Wikipedia [Public domain]
Things started to lose their glamour when the time came to sleep as we did not carry blankets or sleeping bags with us so it would be a chilly night. I had ceded the front bench of the car to Mabel and I tried to find sleeping room at the back of our short wheel base Land Rover, an impossible task despite throwing out all hard objects through the back door. Despite this, there was still very little room there and, after trying a foetal position and then sitting with my back against the front seat without luck I must have passed out as I woke up with the first light.
But our troubles were not yet over!
It was a lovely Christmas day and we soon realized that we had driven inside the reserve and had spent the night at an area we knew and from where we could see the Mara Serena Lodge.
The Mara Serena lodge.
And then we got our Christmas presents: a female black rhino came walking slowly towards us, followed by a really small calf, very cute and playful. I believe that it had been named “Toto” (child), one of the attractions of the reserve at the time.
A female back rhino and her calf, the same sight that we found in the Maasai Mara on Christmas morning.
Unfortunately for us, with the rhino came the reserve rangers that were guarding it 24/7 and they drove straight at us as we were rather obvious and there was no way that we could have driven into the park to be there at that time in the morning! We told them that we had lost our way the day before and decided to spend the night where we stopped. Luckily, they understood our explanation of how we ended up there and pointed us the way back towards the area we had left our camp.
We wished each other a Merry Christmas and parted our ways, they keeping an eye on the rhinos and we, stiff but happy at the way that Christmas had finally arrived although we did not see our lion hunt.
The following year we decided to have a comfortable Christmas holiday and we started early to save to be able to spend it at Kitchwa Tembo, the tented lodge close to the Mara River bridge where I used to get help with punctures and fuel while traveling up the Oloololo escarpment on my way to Intona ranch.
So, when the time arrived we booked seats in the daily flights between Nairobi and the Maasai Mara that were carried out by means of an Airkenya Douglas DC 3 plane that would take about 45 minutes to complete a journey that by road would take the best of one day!
A Douglas DC3 taking off. Credit- Arpingstone / Public domain
We boarded the plane at Wilson airport and we sat really looking up so when the plain started taxiing I immediately started thinking how could the pilot see the runway looking up! Luckily, once we started our take off the tail came up very rapidly and we became horizontal, and a few seconds later we were noisily airborne.
Our route took us over the Ngong Hills – former home of Karen Blixen, of Out of Africa fame – and then beyond the edge of the Rift Valley, magnificent views. After a while the pilot announced that we were flying at 10,500 feet and drinks were offered. Conversation was difficult as the two engines were quite noisy but it was a small price to pay for our first flight in an antique plane!
We approached the narrow paved strip at Musiara and the strong shiver indicated that we had lowered our landing gear and a smooth touchdown followed. Ten minutes later, after loading more passengers the plane hopped a few kilometres over the river to the Kichwa Tembo strip where, after checking that no animals were on the runway, we landed and boarded open vehicles that took us to our tent.
Walking in camp was “interesting” as a number of old male buffalo resided in the camp, probably seeking protection from lions so we were given a strong warning not to walk alone in the evenings but get one of the “askaris” to accompany us. These were Maasai warriors employed by the camp for this purpose.
Christmas Eve at the camp was quite different from the one we spent the previous year. The festivities started early with loud shouts of “elephant!, elephant!” by the staff while we were getting ready to have a cup of tea before our afternoon game drive. We rushed to a prudent distance and witnessed how a young female elephant and her calf walked among the now empty tables pulling table cloths and spilling crockery all over the garden until, clearly satisfied, they walked away leaving behind a devastated garden.
The incident, we were told, was quite common and the solicitous staff quickly re-assembled the tables and, soon and “elephantless” we could have our tea drinking. Once we finished, we went looking for game. This was a new experience as, for once, I could spend all the time looking for game rather than driving. The friendly guides knew the area and they showed us all the usual game, including elephants, lions and buffalo. We returned at sunset and enjoyed good showers and got ready for dinner.
We ate while waiting for midnight and we were treated to a great singing and dancing show by the camp staff that managed to create a really merry atmosphere, fun to watch and to participate. It was funny to see the staff of the lodge in Maasai costumes dancing around.
Eventually we celebrated Christmas with a glass of champagne and retired to our extremely comfortable tent, escorted by our usual askari that was now himself after having been a great dancer earlier.
Later that night we had high drama as it was obvious that lions also wished to celebrate the Season holidays in style and, apparently, they had gone for a buffalo. We heard the struggle and bellows of the “victim” for quite a while until silence returned and we assumed that the buffalo was a goner.
We anticipated an interesting game drive the following morning prior to our return flight but, although we found a pride of lions, we did not find a dead buffalo so we assumed that the animal -if that was what happened- had managed to escape!
Too soon the time came for our departing flight and we boarded the plane, together with other fellow tourists. Our return trip to Nairobi essentially retraced our outward journey and it was rather spectacular to see our approach to the Rift valley wall that, luckily, we climbed and soon we landed with tires squeaking on the Wilson’s tarmac runway. Our “antique” flight was successfully over.
Unfortunately, in 1992 one of Airkenya’s DC-3 was damaged in a landing accident at Musiara, luckily without any victims. Although that plane was not repaired but rather shipped back piecemeal by road to Nairobi, the service continued until 1997 when the DC3s were replaced by newer planes.
[1] Panettone is an Italian type of sweet bread loaf usually enjoyed for Christmas and New Year in many Latin countries. It required a well processed dough and it contains, among other possibilities, candied fruits, raisins and various nuts. It is served in wedge shapes, vertically cut, accompanied, in Uruguay, with cider, prosecco or champagne.
There were lots of topi (Damaliscus lunatus jimela) and kongoni (Alcelaphus buselaphus), also known as hartebeest, roaming the Maasai Mara and they would calf at the same time as the wildebeest so we would see them with their newly born calves while looking for the wildebeests giving birth.
During the course of darting wildebeest we removed snares whenever we saw animals with them.
On one of these occasions we saw a very young kongoni, probably one or two days old that was not only on its own but also very restless. Through the binoculars we saw that it carried an arrow on its forehead! It was most probably a Maasai arrow that was shot from behind the animal and entered the top of the skin of its head going through and it was hanging on its face, bothering him.
As Paul judged the animal too young for darting we decided to catch it to remove the arrow! The idea was to chase it with the car until we were close enough to jump out to grab it and remove the offending weapon. As the car we were driving only had seats at the front, we decided that Mabel (wisely not too interested in our antics!) would stay enjoying the sunshine on some nearby rocks.
We then removed the doors and we were ready for action and started to approach our target slowly. The strategy was to get close to the small calf and then -again- I would jump on it, immobilize it and then remove the arrow. We thought that it would tire fast and enable us to ghrab it.
After a while pursuing it we realized that our “tiring hypothesis” was wrong and the calf had much more energy than we anticipated. We would drive close to it but, just before I could jump on it, it would accelerate again or do a zig-zag movement that would leave us facing in another direction.
We drove an inordinate time, up and down the plain and we were close to get it a few times but it will always avoid us at the last second. drove up and down and passed in front of Mabel a couple of times. Eventually, during one of these turns it entered a rocky area where its mother had gone and we could no longer follow it. So, defeated we returned to collect Mabel.
She was not amused. During our absence she stopped following our fruitless activity not to place herself under the sun but to keep an eye on some lions that she had spotted some distance away so she remained very still to avoid attracting their attention. She had tried to stopped us while we passed by by shaking her arms and she was not amused when we told her that we thought she was greeting us!
I mentioned earlier that our friend Paul was working on animal diseases at various places, including the Maasai Mara Game Reserve where he was investigating the epidemiology of Malignant Catarrh fever. Apart from collecting placentas [1] he was also collecting blood samples to ascertain the presence of antibodies against this disease among the wildebeest population.
When I had time on my way to Intona ranch via the Maasai Mara or over weekends we joined him to spend time together enjoying the bush, which also included enjoying helping him with his work!
Taking a blood sample while Mabel looks on.
Clearly, to bleed the animals there was the need to immobilize them and this was done by firing a dart that in fact was a flying metal syringe that, on impact with the animal, would have a tiny detonation that would push the anesthetic into the animal. Although interesting, the procedure had risks as an accidental inoculation to a human was life-threatening and a syringe loaded with the antidote was prepared every time we went out.
The effect of the immobilizing drug was very fast and the animal would lie down within a few minutes. During that time, we needed to follow the animal until it started to slow down and finally stopped and became recumbent. Then, there was no need for much holding, as it did not struggle.
After finishing the work and removing the dart, we would apply a gentian violet spray to help with the healing of the small wound as well as to alert us that the animal had already been captured. Then we would inject the antidote intravenously and we literally jumped back as the animal will immediately recover, stand-up and move off as if nothing had happened! This was essential when darting animals in a place notorious for its large predators that were always on the prowl.
Hungry lioness.
A hyena carrying the remains of a wildebeest.
Some of the threats present…
Although I had a chance to dart a few animals, I mostly drove as the work needed a two-person team to be performed. I needed to learn how to drive in order to come within “shooting” distance of the animals. You needed to come obliquely as not to start them and then stop the car to allow the shooter to do the job. Breaking a branch or even a twig was sufficient to have to start all over again!
A dart placed at the right spot.
The shoulder was your target. Being in the centre of the animal you would still hit the neck if it went back or the flank if it happened to go forward. Although this sounds simple, sometimes the dart would go over or under the animal or it would jump and the dart would miss it. A missed shot meant an interruption of the work until the dart -usually half-buried in the grass- was recovered. Project resources were limited and a dart was costly. Luckily they had a coloured flight stabilizers that helped locating them.
Although the work proceeded smoothly, there was one instance when things did not go as planned.
At a time that most of the wildebeest had traveled to the Serengeti, there was a need to get some samples despite the low number of animals present. The work involved a lot of searching until individual animals were found and then approached for them to be darted.
After a lot of hard work we managed to dart one adult male that we processed fast to continue looking for others. We covered a lot of bush but found that the animals were particularly jittery and difficult to approach. Eventually we got a female and continued trying to the last one for the day.
During mid-afternoon we found another male, we darted it and started to follow it waiting for it to go down. After a while -surprised- we saw that it would not go down as expected. We followed it and then when it turned we saw the gentian violet spray we had left on it when we had darted earlier!
Clearly, the animal was still under the influence of the antidote and the new dose of tranquilizer would only slow it down but it was not enough for it to lie down. We were in a fix as we could not leave it in that condition and more tranquilizing drug was not advisable.
Desperate situations demand desperate solutions so I volunteer to ambush it by hiding behind a bush while Paul drove it towards me. I thought it would require the same effort as holding a young steer, something I had done this before so I estimated it doable. After all, I only needed to hold it for a sufficiently long time to allow Paul to come and help me, overpower it and remove the dart.
We found a suitable area with woodlands on both sides and I hid behind some bushes with some rocks behind me (to prevent unwanted visitors surprising me) and waited. Although I did not see the car, I heard it coming closer so I got ready for the animal to walk in front of me and then jump to get it.
To my surprise, before I could move, quite a large head (much larger than I expected) was sniffing me! Despite my surprise I reacted by grabbing the animal’s neck hoping to keep it still. As I started being dragged over the plains of the Maasai Mara I realized that I had underestimated the strength of a male wildebeest, even a drugged one!
I soon lost my footing and remained hanging from my embrace of its rather muscular neck. The neck of a wildebeest from a car window is one thing but to actually try to span it with your arms while the creature runs, although groggy, is another one.
After about three leaps, my grip slackened and I ended up grabbing one of its front legs. My hold was rather short-lived as I was now under the beast being dragged, stepped on and knocking me against all ground irregularities. I let it go and stayedlying on the ground recovering from the ill treatment received.
I was not really hurt but a bit knocked and soon recovered and sat-up to wait for Paul while removing a few thorns from my arms and legs. Paul took a while to come as he was laughing so much at the scene! I understood his mirth as it must have been quite a funny act to watch!
Despite what I thought it was a brave attempt, the problem remained. The wildebeest was still groggy and vulnerable and it carried a valuable dart! We needed another plan as the animal was trotting just a few metres from us. So, plan B was hatched that would involve my cattle-lassoing skills I had acquired in Uruguay.
With the car’s towing rope I improvised my lasso and placed myself between the front of the car and the bull bar where I could keep in place while I could use both hands as I could not use a lasso with only one. I was a bit unstable on my perch but decided that it will have to do. As a precaution I tied the end of the improvised lasso to the bull bar.
As soon as the car approached the beast I threw my improvised lasso until, after the third or fourth try, I managed to get it from the horns. That was not my idea as I aimed for the neck but it will have to do. Seen that the lasso was firm I signalled Paul to slow down and stop. The animal continued trotting as far as the rope allowed it and then, gradually, we pulled it to bring it close and finally managed to extricate the dart, spray it again (this time on the other side as well) and, with some difficulty but with the aid of a wire, remove the lasso from its horns.
A rather dishevelled bushsnob posing with the exhausted wildebeest, waiting until it recovered fully.
Watamu was one of the best places for deep sea fishing in the African side of the Indian Ocean so, a group of male friends (bushsnob included) decided to travel there a weekend to try our luck, despite the displeasure of the wives that were left behind!
We left Nairobi on a Friday afternoon in a rather luxurious car for that time, a Peugeot 604 belonging to one of my friends. As the trip was organized at the last minute, we did not have any bookings for a fishing boat but we were sure to find one ready to take us. We were spending our two nights at the Ocean Sports Club and there were lots of fishermen with boats for rent there.
My friend drove fast -too fast for my taste- but the car responded and we got to Ocean Sports before sunset. Later, at the bar, we managed to find a boat for the next day that would take us fishing. The idea was to fish from 06:00hs to 16:00hs and to share all expenses between the four of us.
So it was that, full of anticipation, we got up before sunrise and drove to the harbour from where our fishing boat operated. To prevent seasickness I took a strong dose of dimenhydrinate (Dramamine) and I was ready to go.
We traveled quite a distance until we did not see land anymore. I was fine as I also avoided looking close to the boat but far away. Although I did not feel seasick, I felt half-sleep because of the drug for a good part of the morning until I started to regain consciousness. Nothing, however, prepared me for the inhaling of the engine fumes at the back of the boat and we soon decided to travel at the front, at least until the fishing started.
Once we reached the right place that I must say looked like any area of the sea we had sailed through, we slowed down and a number of rods with the expected large reels chained to the boat were thrown while we solemnly drew straws to determine the order of the fisherman in the “hot chair”, the one with the best chances of getting strikes.
I had the shortest so if the fishing was bad, I may not even had a chance to fish! However, it was fun to be there anyway. Luckily I was wrong because at some stage we went through a shoal of tuna when all rods had fish in them and chaos followed as they were running in all directions and the lines got badly entangled!
I had one in one of the rods and quickly learnt that in the sea, as compared with a river, there is practically no bottom and the fish can run for many metres aiming for the deep, something that was disconcerting at first but I got used to after a while.
Soon lines broke or needed to be cut and only one of us managed to land a tuna while the crew aptly guided us on what to do in a situation like this and quickly repared the damage as they were clearly used to this kind of incidents.
The ultimate goal of the trip was to catch a large marlin as these beautiful gamefish are known to be present in these waters. We agreed that we would attempt marlin fishing later but before we would try for other species such as falusi (dorado), kingfish, tuna, bonito and barracuda to name a few of the most common. If we were lucky we could catch sailfish but they were not easy.
After a couple of hours fishing my friends had caught their fish, including a sailfish, a truly beautiful fish. By then it was very hot and the situation was not too good as one of my friends was sick on starboard while a member of the crew was suffering from diarrhea and he was occupying the bow. that we, politely, left empty until he recovered.
That was the situation when I started my turn, under a strong sun, sweating and waiting, focused on fishing to avoid seasickness or worse!
After about an hour of nothing happening I saw the unmistakable head of a sailfish with its open bill breaking the surface of the sea towards the back of the boat and I shouted “look, there is a sail…!” but I could finish the sentence as a fish took off with my lure! It was the very sailfish I saw that had taken my lure and I only realized what it was when it jumped entirely outside of the water. (I could not find any pictures of this fishing trip and I failed to embed one from Getty with the new WordPress editor!, sorry).
Sailfish leaping, just thrown the hook, the one that got away. Credit iStock by Getty Images.
The fish fought well, jumping repeatedly and, after about thirty minutes I landed a 37 kg sailfish, the biggest fish I have caught! I would have loved to put it back (as we normally do with all fish) but I was explained that all fish caught would go to a local fishing community that would sell it to the Watamu lodges so I had no option.
Although later we trolled deep seeking to hook a marlin by using a humongous hook with a whole -although small- tuna as a bait, we failed. However, we returned to port with some glory and displaying the fish flags that indicated our catch!
That evening at the bar our fish grew to amazing proportions … We were tired, sunburnt and quite dehydrated so, after a light meal and drinking lots of water and some beer we were ready to go to bed.
The following morning we left for Nairobi, again, at a high speed. too much for me as the car was quite loaded and it was very hot. So we drove until Voi when a red light was noticed but it was ignored by the driver as, apparently, it often appeared often for no apparent reason.
By the time we got near Mtito Andei with still 233 km still to go, the car lost power and we crawled into Mtito Andei where we stopped. Thick blue smoke was coming from the engine compartment and it got worse when we opened the bonnet as the engine was boiling! We waited for it to cool down but it would not start again and we suspected that it had ceased.
We then decided that the car should be left there for it to be recovered the following day and we decided to wait for the next Akamba bus to Nairobi that only appeared when it was already dark. We arrived at Nairobi at midnight and Mabel was not amused with my performance and explanations and it took her a few days to calm down!
Cristina (not her real name) was a Spanish lady that used to come every year to participate in a UN conference and spend a few months in Nairobi. We got to know her through some of Mabel Latin colleagues at work and, somehow, we ended up being invited to her apartment for dinner so that we could meet her baby.
At she was already in her later forties we were puzzled about the baby and it was with some degree of curiosity that we turned up in her house. She greeted us and then said, pointing to a young man of clear Swahili origin “this is Mohammed, my baby!” and then she burst out laughing. It was not rare in Kenya that older European women would develop a relationship with younger men when spending time at the coast but for us it was quite a shock at the time.
During dinner, Mohammed who was from Lamu happened to be a very nice young guy that insisted that we visited Lamu and that he would look after us there.
So, the day came when we decided to travel to Lamu island and we flew on a small plane from Malindi to Manda island where the airport serving the Lamu archipelago is located. The plane flew quite low and followed the coast line over lovely areas on the sea with different shades of blue and green as well as large areas of mangrove forests and what looked like very dry areas inland.
As part of the ticket they put us on a boat and took us across the channel to Lamu itself. Approaching Lamu was already amazing as it slowly it sunk in that this was a different place from anywhere we had been earlier. The buildings on the seafront with their arcades and open verandas provided a visual impression of times past and I thought that the early explorers and adventurers must have faced seen similar sights when they first arrived to the Kenya coast.
Lamu from our “house”.
We landed at the harbour hoping that Mohammed would be there as we had arranged earlier. So when people came to ask what we needed or to offer assistance I said that we were waiting for Mohammed. That was not a clever thing to say as, within a minute we were surrounded by “Mohammeds” offering all sorts of services!
Lamu harbour.
Eventually, after a while, the “true” Mohammed came so, laughing, he welcomed us and took us to the place where we would stay. It was a family house and we were given the first floor with a roofless bedroom that opened into an inner patio surrounded by walls and a toilet with a bucket of water. At that time there were only a handful of hotels in Lamu and most visitors stayed in private houses.
Lamu Old Town is the oldest and best-preserved Swahili settlement in East Africa. Its houses are simple structures built in coral blocks and timber from mangroves with interesting inner patios and elaborately carved wooden doors and furniture.
Swahili chair in Joe Murumbi’s house.
That weekend we explored the place and saw that the old Lamu had maintained not only its architecture but also its social and cultural character. We learnt that it had been there for over 700 years and that it was an important place for Islamic education and Swahili culture.
The streets were very narrow and, apparently, its tortuous arrangement has its origins in Arab traditions of land allocation and urban development but the outstanding features of the town were the doors that were beautifully carved.
The Lamu doors were well known in Kenya and I had already seen them at various places in Nairobi and, particularly at Intona ranch where Joe Murumbi had built a house following the style of the coastal houses and they had fitted Lamu doors to it. Joe had told me that these doors were the result of artistic influence from various cultures that intermingled at the coast such as Swahili, Arabic, Persian, Indian and European.
With the exception of a rather new-looking green Land Rover pick-up belonging to the District Commissioner, there were no other cars in Lamu but enough pollution was provided by donkeys that were all over and left their dung and aroma everywhere. Aware of the high donkey traffic and the alleged contamination of the water supply, during a cholera outbreak they decided to introduce the diapers for donkeys. However, the residents did not support the project and it was abandoned.
However, the diaper idea stayed alive and it made a come back 30 years later if Wajir when, in 2016, the authorities forbade the entrance of “diaperless” donkeys into the town [1].
Of course we had some beach time while in Lamu and, declining the offer of moving by donkey, we walked following the coast towards the south to Shela, avoided the expensive Peponi Hotel, and stopped at one of the beaches where we were alone and able to enjoy the warm waters of the Indian Ocean undisturbed.
Mabel and baobab at Lamu.
Being a Muslim town, no alcohol was available (not an issue for us) but we discovered a new drink: lassi! This was the sweet variety based on yogurt, different fruits and what makes it special: spices! The drink is very popular in the Indian sub-continent where several kinds are on offer.
Lamu market.
The following HSBC commercial (that I do not endorse in any way here!) is an excellent example of the discovery of lassi by an outsider!
The time in Lamu was too short and we were soon boarding the plane back carrying a strong impression that we had just been privileged to live a historical experience rather than a holiday and the memories of this trip would last for ever.
The next visit following our train journey ended up at Diani beach, south of Mombasa. We stayed at a tented camp right on the beach called Nomad’s Tented camp. The only place we could afford. It was only a weekend with little time and I found the tents at the camp too hot although the sea had a truly wonderful temperature for my taste.
I must confess that beaches are not my seen as I was soon sticky and full of sand as well as bored of too much resting! Sea food was good and this somehow compensated for the rest. As expected, however, Mabel loved it so I knew that we would come back often!
The coast of Kenya has been somehow separated from the mainland by the nyika, a Swahili word meaning bush or perhaps dry bush to explain better what you find over hundreds of kilometres between this area and the Kenya highlands to the west. Not surprisingly then, before the Lunatic Express was built, the coast looked east beyond the Indian Ocean and traded with the Arabs for slaves and ivory and with India for spices.
Luckily we managed to visit most of the areas south of Malindi as well as the island of Lamu further north. So it was that over the following years we discovered a new and different Kenya, tropical and hot with nice beaches of warm waters and with a hitherto unknown world for us: the coral reef.
What we knew at the time as the Kenya Coast Province was replaced in 2013 by four counties from north to south: Lamu, Tana River, Kilifi and Kwale. Irrespective of the political arrangement there are 1,420 km of Indian Ocean shores, enough to get lost.
We started from Mombasa, the most important town. It developed in an area where there was a gap in the reef barrier that enabled ships to anchor in deep waters. It still is the main harbour of the country known as Kilindini or “place of deep water”.
Mombasa is a colorful city where several races, cultures and religions coexist in apparent harmony in a warm and tropical environment. We only got a superficial knowledge of the place and drove under the four elephant tusks or Moi avenue, the city’s hallmark.
Moi avenue.
We visited its fascinating, smelly and noisy market and Fort Jesus, an imposing defense structure with 2.4m thick walls with “re-entrant” angles. The latter make every face protected by crossfire and very difficult to storm. Despite this, the fort changed hands repeatedly over time!
Mombasa’s Fort Jesus.The sea from Fort Jesus.Fort Jesus.
We also spent time at the old harbour where we were lucky to see still being used and where we saw a number of fishing boats as well as several dhows anchored there. It was during that occasion that we spotted Nawalilkher and Tusitiri (see: https://bushsnob.com/2017/01/29/two-dhows/).
A dhow.
After that first approach to the south coast we learnt about the beauties of the northern coast so we decided to explore it and discovered the “local Airbnb” of those times in the shape of Kenya Villas that had a number of beach houses to rent at Watamu. This area became our base from the first time we stayed there as we greatly enjoyed it and visited it often getting to know the nicest houses.
One of the houses we rented at Watamu.
The arrangements were on a self-catering basis but most houses came with a cook and maids that pampered you, as usual. The best feature of staying there was the service of fresh sea produce that was delivered to your door everyday. Delicious fresh snapper fish, live crabs and lobsters at reasonable prices that allowed you to enjoy these delicacies, usually beyond us. Fish in coconut sauce and lobster thermidor were included in our home menu during those visits.
There was however a few hazards even if you did not get robbed as happened to a friend of us in one of these houses. Coconut falling sounds silly but to get hit by one of these weighing 1.4 kg falling from 20 metres can cause a major injury [1]. This was, all things considered, a risk worth taking as- if you survived and got the coconut, its juice was one of the most refreshing drinks I have drunk.
Apart from milk, coconut palms provide coastal communities with coconut shells for various utensils, oil, leaves for the makuti roofs in the shape of tiles, wood for housing and coconut flesh for eating either raw, dried or toasted.
While in Watamu, a small fishing town, we often traveled to Malindi, 23 km north, a town with a strong Italian influence where we had more shopping options. It was also attractive for its good pasta and pizzas and even -despite the heat- ice-creams. It was loaded with tourists, mostly from Italy that flew in charters directly to the coast, a practice that has now been reduced because of security concerns.
Malindi was where Vasco da Gama picked up his pilot to navigate with the monsoon winds to India. Both Malindi and Watamu offered lots of exotic food and local specialities such as halwa, a sticky and sweet dessert made of brown sugar, ghee (clarified butter), rose water, and cardamom sometimes garnished with pistachio, almond slithers and sometimes toasted sesame seeds that we always bought at the local markets, risking a severe increase in our calories count!
It was true that the beaches were great but the biggest discovery for us was the coral reef, one of the richest ecosystems of animal origin in the planet with thousands of colors and shapes. The Watamu Marine National Park and Reserve protected the coral gardens. Although some were further off into the ocean, there were coral gardens a few hundred metres from our rented house!
These were home to hundreds of coral and fish species and other life forms too many to describe. Although we never saw turtles, manta rays or whale sharks, they did exist there and proof of that is the manta ray that “flew” over a friend’s boat while he was fishing for the pot at the Watamu lagoon!
In addition, our friend Ken hobby was the coral reef fish and, for years, he towed his wife Betty on a car inner tube behind him as he swam along the reef in search of fish![3]. He was a very good source of information on what to look for and where.
These true gardens could be enjoyed by walking from the beach during the low tide, renting a glass-bottom boat from one of the hotels there, snorkeling or diving. Usually during most mornings the tide was low and this enabled us to explore the reef, either from the comfort of a glass-bottom boat or by the more energy-consuming snorkeling while swimming slowly over the reef.
Although there were a few fish to be avoided such as the stone, scorpion (lion) and jelly fish, the view compensated for the risk that was low if you were careful not to touch anything.
Immersed in this new world we lost all sense of time and space and often floated a long way from the coast and we had a laborious return although with no great risks as we had good life belts and there were no strong currents there. The problem was the sun as no sun block would keep you covered for such a long time!
We wore a t-shirt and a life jacket that took care of your back but not the legs and I paid the price the first time when in the afternoon post-snorkeling I could hardly walk as the back of my legs were badly burnt and in the evening I could not bend my legs. There it was when I learnt why people at the coast wear kikoys wrapped around their waist as this lessens your burns rubbing against tighter clothing.
We continued exploring the coral reef during every visit but during the periods of high tide, while Mabel enjoyed the sand, sea and sun I started to get bored, as usual in any beach. So, after a while of looking for entertainment I hatched the idea of windsurfing and, with my Muguga colleague Robin, we decided to buy one on a 50:50 basis and keep it at the coast with some friends of his.
Luckily the windsurfing equipment came with a manual so I studied it and immediately went for a try as it seemed simple. About four hours later I came back to the house bleeding from several cuts inflicted by the coral as well as a few bruises and loudly declared that I will offer my share of the artifact for sale from that day, not exactly in those words though.
Mabel kept quiet while I ranted freely and simply told me that my problem had an easy solution: to go for lessons at the nearby Turtle Bay hotel where there was bound to be someone teaching how to do windsurf! I must admit that out of pride I pretended to dismiss the idea but that same afternoon, while the tide was up and the wind blew, I walked to the hotel and booked an intensive course for the next day!
I was happy to see that the teaching was on a windsurf simulator on firm ground and that soon I was able to master the technique’s basics and then I was told to go back and attempt to stand on the table minus the sail so I spent time gettin on it and falling until I was too tired to go on.
The following day, as indicated, I went for my final lesson with my windsurfer and I was fitted with a new much smaller sail and then I saw some sea action. With a smaller sail things were easier and eventually I was ready to go around the turtle rock at the bay and return to be given the green light to sail on my own!
It was in this way that windsurfing entertained me from then on while Mabel enjoyed the beach in peace.
Our first journey to Mombasa was not by car but by train. We took the train that run everyday leaving Nairobi at 19:00hs and arriving at Mombasa the following morning at 06:00hs. We were advised to buy First Class tickets as these gave you access to a sleeping coach.
The Ugandan railway was born in the late 19th century, when European countries were engaged in the “scramble for Africa” and the British were worried about German expansionism in Tanganyika (now Tanzania) and French interests in Sudan. It was an imperative undertaking for Britain (to keep its interests in Egypt) to have access to the source of the Nile, Lake Victoria.
Connecting Britain’s territories on the Kenyan coast to the shore of lake Victoria in Uganda by rail was considered the solution. The project created such a clamour in the British Parliament that it ended up known as the “Lunatic Line”, a name given to it by Charles Miller, who wrote its history [1].
However it was Henry Labouchère, writer and politician, that in 1896 attacked the then Foreign Minister Curzon’s backing of the idea with a satirical poem that called the project “a lunatic line” [2]
A train on bridge of the Uganda Railway leading from Mombassa to Nairobi; insert in lower right-hand corner shows the train at Mau Summit. Credit: United States Library of Congress’s Prints and Photographs division.
Despite dissidence the British government marched on with the plans, and sent Sir George Whitehouse to build the railway. Work on the one-metre gauge railway commenced in the port of Mombasa in May 1896 and thousands of workers were recruited from India to start construction on the railway and all the materials, from sleepers to steam engines, were brought from Britain.
Soon the Lunatic express ran into severe trouble such as the lack of water at Tatu and the man-eating lions that threatened to halt construction at Tsavo. However, five million pounds (today £ 660 million) and about 2,500 dead workers later, in 1901 the railway line arrived to Kisumu (then Port Florence) in the shores of Lake Victoria.
The building of the railway was an amazing feat of engineering that succeeded in joining the British protectorate of Mombasa to the colony of Uganda, uniting the disparate ethnic groups in between and consolidated a country today known as Kenya!
The train gained a “romantic” fame with the early settlers and visitors alike as migration to Kenya was promoted in Britain with the hope that the commercial traffic that this would create would pay back such a high investment.
A poster promoting the Uganda Railway. Picture taken by bushsnob from a copy of the poster acquired in Kenya at the tme of the journey.Theodore Roosevelt and traveling companions mount the observation platform of the Uganda Railway. Credit: Wikimedia, Public domain.
Luckily, when we got to the Nairobi Railway Station with its grey arches and the Nairobi sign hardly legible, the railway’s cost was not remembered and the man-eaters were not interfering with the running of the train. We soon found our names written on cards attached to the outside of our carriage and we boarded.
Locomotive with fuel tanks in Kampala. Credit: Iwoelbern / Public domain.
The old brown-leather padded carriages were very clean and the seats comfortable. After settling in we waited for the train to move but before this happened, the in the Sleeping car assistant came to check our tickets and to ask us if we wished to have dinner at 21:30hs or at 22:30hs.
As we were feeling hungry we chose the first shift and a few minutes afterwards we heard the whistles of the Stationmaster and the loud horn of the train while we felt the pull of the locomotive and heard the steadily increasing chugging sound and then we were moving!
Slowly we moved through the station and then gradually away from it and, still slowly, through the outskirts where most people ignored us but some returned our greetings and some children shouted “muzungu!, muzungu!”[3] at us. Gradually it gathered some more speed and the the clickety-clackety sound of the wheels passing over the fish plates that join the rails started to become more frequent and we were on our way, faster now!
After a while it was time to move to the dining car and we were impressed by its neatness and luxury. The car was lined with brown-red leather and old fans gently turned moving the air inside the carriage.
Clearly dinner was a serious affair. Waiters, wearing fezzes and white gloves helped us to find our table and be seated at our reserved places. The first course of the three-course menu was immediately brought. It was a hot soup that would be followed by fish and roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and potatoes. Dessert was fruit crumble with excellent custard sauce.
We declined the freshly brewed Kenya coffee offer for fear of not being able to sleep. All dishes and drinks were served on crockery embossed with the logo of the East African Railways and Harbours Corporation, which had been defunct since 1977 but that were still in use!
Dinner over, as new commensals were arriving, we left, satisfied with our meal. We arrived at our cabin to find it transformed into a bedroom with immaculate starched sheets and pillows monogrammed with the same East African Railways logo. The change was such that I went out to check if we were in the right cabin!
Mabel slept soundly but I had difficulties as my bed was placed across the track so to say and every time that the train changed speed I would roll backwards and forwards and I feared falling until its speed stabilized again. The whistle sound and the brakes’ hiss and screech when the train slowed down did not add to my comfort either!
So, although the train was great from the historical and glamour sides, it was not a sleep coach for me. Lucky Mabel woke up just before we entered Mombasa!
The early morning arrival in hot and sticky Mombasa, coming from the rather cold and cloudy Nairobi, was like a miracle that truly brought me back to the early days of the train. The station was like a beehive with people vying with each other to get our luggage and offering you tropical fruits and all sorts of other goods! It was clearly a station with special character.
Once outside the station, the light was unbelievable and we needed to spend sometime adjusting to it to be able to find our transport that would take us to our hotel where I could have a “morning siesta” to recover my lost sleep while Mabel enjoyed the Mombasa markets under the tropical heat.
Unfortunately, after our time in Kenya, the railways service from Nairobi and Mombasa gradually deteriorated [4] and started running increasing delays and it could take the train 24 hours to do the journey we did in less than 12. Often the train would breakdown in truly dark areas or, if lucky, you could be stranded at Voi or other stations until repairs could be carried out. Although it still had a romantic touch, it was wearing thinner and it was just a question of time until its final journey.
When a new train known as the “Madaraka Express” started to be built by the Chinese, the fate of the Lunatic Express was sealed and it has then been replaced for a train that now takes 4.5 hours to get to Mombasa.
The train started to operate in May 2017 but, as the Lunatic Express it has also been the target of severe criticism due to its high cost of £2.5 billion, Kenya’s most expensive infrastructure project since independence [5] and comparatively even more expensive that the Lunatic line!
We have no desire to take the new train but prefer to still remember that we were lucky to taste the last voyages of what was one of the classic trips the world had to offer.
Footnotes
[1] Miller, C. The Lunatic Express: An Entertainment in Imperialism. Head of Zeus Editor. Kindle edition. Originally published by Futura; First Thus edition (1977).
[2]
What it will cost no words can express;
What is its object no brain can suppose;
Where it will start from no one can guess;
Where it is going to nobody knows;
What is the use of it none can conjecture;
What it will carry none can define...
And in spite of George Curzon's superior lecture,
"It is clearly naught but a lunatic line."
See: https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/article/2001241674/end-of-road-for-first-railway-that-defined-kenya-s-history
In the 19th. century, the United Kingdom started distinguishing two kinds of fishing: freshwater game fishing that includes salmonids (salmon, trout and char) usually caught using fly-fishing and coarse (rough) fishing that refers to angling for freshwater fish inhabiting warmer and stiller waters (rough fish), except the salmonids, caught by other techniques. It was believed that only game fish made as good eating.
Not being British, I regard this as an academic issue but I am not interested in fly-fishing, having tried it, so I -proudly- fall under the coarse fisherman class. This condition gives me a license to fish anywhere and I am happy with that!
Several of my friends and colleagues in Muguga, Matt, Robin and Paul, were fly-fishers although the latter enjoyed coarse fishing as well and I have already narrated our exploits in Corrientes[1], the Mara River[2] and in Naivasha[3] to name a few.
The fact that I did not do fly-fishing did not stop me from accompanying my friends when they invited me to go to the trout-fishing spots around Nairobi, the Aberdares and to the Sasamua dam. Although Matt invited me to go fishing for trout, I never made it with him. I did go with Robin but this river fishing was unexceptional, apart from some unexpected encounter with the odd elephant in the thicket!
I also accompanied Paul a couple of times, including the weekend when we tried his car[4]. He used to go often to the Sasamua dam where, according to the connoisseurs, some truly large trout lived. On one of these occasions, after fishing from the dam wall without success, we boarded the rubber dinghy to fish in the open water. It was drizzling and I tried to persuade him otherwise but he was looking forward to try his newly acquired folding grapnel anchor.
As expected, the fishing was bad and we got soaked but the anchor did work, too well. It got hold of the bottom of the lake immediately but, when we tried to retrieve it, it got stuck and the second rope to pull it from the front snapped so that was fool-proof anchor that operated with two ropes, one to fold it and one to retrieve it. An interesting contraption.
A folding grapnel anchor.
To his credit, Paul kept going to the Sasamua, despite the odds and, eventually while fishing on his own he caught a rainbow trout that came very close to the Kenya record! It is the largest trout I have seen in the flesh! He was, justifiably, very pleased with his trout. Not only he got a fibreglass cast made but also he kept it in the freezer to show it to his friends! It was eventually eaten at one of his birthdays.
For an attempt at true coarse fishing we traveled to Lake Victoria in search of the introduced Nile Perch (Lates niloticus), one of the largest freshwater fish, it can reach a length of 2 m and weigh up to 200kg! We were aware that the latter were difficult to get but our hopes were high.
Nile Perch was introduced in Lake Victoria in the 1950s. Its introduction was ecologically disruptive and the subject is well known[5]. However, we were not going there in a “damage assessment” mission but to try and get some out of the water!
Nile perch drawing. Credit: Nile_perch Attrib- Boulenger, George Albert; Loat, L. [Public domain].
Working at the International Centre of Insect Physiology and Ecology (ICIPE), I could arrange accommodation at the institute’s research station (the same that was being built when I visited with my boss Matt years earlier), and we booked it for a weekend when rain was not expected.
Rusinga island seen from Mbita point.
We prepared the strongest tackle we had and took Paul’s rubber dinghy to have our own fishing experience. We left Nairobi early and after a long drive through Nakuru and Kericho, we got to our accommodation quite late and tired but looking forward to the next morning.
The start was the pumping of the boat by the lakeshore. This was a true public event and we were not short of volunteers to step on the pump and get the boat ready. We explained the onlookers of all sexes and ages that we were going to fish Nile perch or in their Luo language, mbuta. This caused quite a lot of excitement and anticipation for our return with the fish. People in Kenya were very hopeful!
The boat ready, we left the beach, taking great care not to enter the water as Schistosomiasis (also known as Bilharzia) was known to be a problem in this area. We sailed towards the east part of Rusinga island, where I was meant to work according to the original plan of FAO! Being a less populated area we thought that the fishing would be good. We decided to troll at about 100m from the shore using our largest lures.
We fished the whole day apart from a break for lunch and a rest and returned to Mbita Point empty-handed before sunset. We did not get a single fish bite and the anxious crowd that waited for our fish were rather crestfallen and soon left while we pulled the boat out to a safe location.
Alarmed and disappointed, we discussed the situation over dinner and following Mabel’s down to earth advice, decided that, despite our intention to do the fishing ourselves, we should swallow our pride and consult some “experts”. We knew that a new company was starting to bring sport fishermen from the Maasai Mara by plane and we decided that meeting them was advisable as our fishing time was running out.
The following day, after finding our the whereabouts of the fishing company, we boated straight to their camp. Luckily they had no clients that weekend so all guides were present at camp and they kindly gave us some useful advice that I still remember: “Fish by trolling near the white rocks” and added “you will find the rocks easily and these are the best spots”.
We had boated past these rocks that had been “whitewashed” by the guano of countless cormorants stopping there to sun themselves after fishing. We realized that the Nile perch would also feed on the same fish, coming from the deep.
Clearly these rocks were the obvious places and we had overlooked them! We wasted no time and as fast as the small engine could take us, we did a beeline to the first rocks. Luckily it was a Saturday and a market day so, although the canoes were there, the fishermen were at the market and the lake was empty.
We caught a small Nile perch on our very first troll! Although it was not of spectacular proportions, it was a Nile perch.
One of the first Nile perch I caught.Mabel and her fish with others on the bottom right.
By lunchtime we had all landed fish and returned to shore to weigh them at the fishing camp and we gave them some to thank them for the information given to us. They were very happy as fish is the main item of their diet.
Thanking them again, we re-started our fishing and trolled near some other rocks where we caught a few larger fish, closer to the “real thing” although we did not have a balance to ascertain their weights.
Some of the fish caught and Mabel focussed on catching one!
We also tried our luck to fish them from the shore and Paul managed to hook one, although -luckily-not too large as to bring it in would not have been easy with the tackle he had.
This time our return to Mbita Point was very different as we came with fish that we gave to the waiting crowd that were immediately cut up and shared. Our mood had also changed and we slept dreaming with our catches!
The following day, during our long return journey we had lots to talk about!
A Bushsnob out of Africa 
