The first 30 kilometers were half tar, half
dirt, half dongas and half through the bush, just terrible but then we knew it
was going to be just that. As soon as we turned off on to the dirt road which
we had been told was absolutely horrific, the road surprisingly improved
somewhat. We climbed up and up the escarpment out of the Great Rift Valley and
eventually landed up having the most fantastic views of the lake. It was truly
beautiful, with very blue water and we had a clear view of the whole area
together with all the Islands of which there were many. The three islands that
used to be one were clearly visible plus we could see the Island that the
locals say is haunted with an evil spirit so nobody inhabits that one. We could
see just how high the lake had risen by the dead trees that were now in the
water a long way from the shore line. We stopped at all the vantage points and
took group photos and generally took it easy as we only had a short haul for
the day....So we thought!
The first part of countryside was covered in
very thick, almost impenetrable bush that is quite green and obviously quite
good for cattle and livestock. We came across a lot of herd boys all about 10
to 12 years of age tending their sheep and cattle but because the bush is so
thick we didn't see much else. Interesting that all the herd boys carry bows
and arrows presumably to fight off any predators that might attack their livestock.
We did see a beautiful caracal cat which would certainly take one of the sheep
or goats but I am sure they also must have leopard in that area as it is still
pretty wild.
The road got progressively worse as we journeyed
further into this long forgotten region of Kenya where so few people dare to go
because of the harsh environment. We
went through village after village with these thin emaciated people. At one
stage the roads had washed away so badly they had become rivers and a new track
had been made alongside of it. No doubt they too will become rivers and so the
cycle progresses. The countryside became more and more overgrazed from the huge
herds of livestock that they keep.
When passing through these villages we noticed
that the people were getting poorer and poorer. We had one little boy come
running up to the car shouting at Rouvierre "buy my shoes, buy my
shoes". She radioed to tell us how funny this little boy was as the shoes
that he had on were an old worn out pair of slops. Andrea as quick as a wink
replied... "Tell him if they are not boots, I am not interested". Oh
boy she is reversing the teasing on us alright! On another less amusing note it
is tragic to see how these children just stand and beg as soon as they see cars
coming past. They have obviously been given either sweets or money by passing Mlungus
and so think there is a chance to get something out of us. You wonder what
damage has been done by passing tourists as it creates an impression that all
you need to do is beg in order to get things.
The villages are really just a few mud huts with
dark and dingy shops and one even had an old "overall" hanging
outside for sale, so on the radio comes Andrea’s voice who suggested that Ernest stop and buy it, as it would be a
good racing overall for our "racing champion". Ernest of course never
lets anyone get the better of him so he suggested there might be some great shoes
there as well so they can go in together.
Every time we go through any one of these
villages there are lots of very thin, dirty bedraggled snotty nosed children
always begging for sweets or money, lots of men, old and young just lounging
around doing nothing and very few women who are either hiding or working. The
teenage boys are the ones that are tending the many herds of sheep, cattle and
goats. These guys are starving, they are the thinnest people I have ever seen
but they obviously must survive on blood and milk as you hardly see anything
like veggies or maize or even Kasava growing.
We were going for a place called Maralal as we
had heard from someone in our last camp site that there was a great place to
camp 4 Ks out of town and were making great progress until the rain hit ?.. Oh
boy did it come down in buckets and the roads become the rivers! Even The Queen
in four wheel drive just started to slide all over the place, quite scary when
the roads are slightly built up and the back of The Queen kept slipping off the
side of the road. We thought the cars
would fare better but Kim who was right behind us went sliding around
with Ernest shouting on the radio " put the cars in four wheel drive"
but it was too late and he was already doing a waltz to the" Blue Danube".
Ken who was at the back thought he would play this differently as he had prior
warning and "much more experienced" with this sort of thing and he
had a chance to put it in four wheel drive before he hit the mud but oh boy
famous last words and in no time he was also doing the waltz just like rest of
us. The road was made of some kind of red clay and it just had no traction at
all so we kept quite a distance between the cars as you never knew when you
were going to go sliding off the road.
We hit another harder road after a while and
this was not slippery, thank goodness, but just hard, full of stones and an
abundance of holes. The water was
sitting in the holes, which were so numerous you couldn't miss them and the
water hid how deep or shallow they were. It was a teeth breaking journey but
because we had been expecting this nobody was complaining. We all knew this was
the beginning of the worst roads in Africa.
It's funny that we have had rain every day since
we got to Serengeti and this is not their rainy season. All the locals were
puzzled by this change in weather patterns...I hate to say global warning,
maybe just the weather is changing for some reason.
We eventually got to Maralal at 5 in the
afternoon, went straight through town as there is nothing to see or do and went
4 Ks out of town ....no campsite. Now the Q and A started “I wonder if it's 6 Ks ... I wonder if we
missed it" .... So we stopped to discuss. Rouvierre was the one who got
the data from the guy in Lake Baringo and Oh dear! She had asked him WHICH road
out of town as there were several going in all directions and he had promised
to SMS exactly where it was but the SMS had never come through. Of course as
you stop on any road in Kenya you are surrounded by locals who are absolutely
fascinated by these mlungus; and Steve gets right into this thing of talking to
them like long lost friends, he usually gets them to leave by giving them a
yellow T-shirt that we have brought all the way from SA to hand out as "
presents". Then a truck full of guys passed us, you have never seen so
many people on a truck in your whole life, standing in the back with not an
inch to spare, hanging off the back, hanging on the sides, all waving and
shouting greetings at us Strange Travelers.
So it was back to the drawing boards...Do we go
back to town and find this camp site, go on and bush camp or just sit down and
cry! So we eventually sent Ken and Rouvierre back to town to find a, or THE
camp site and we would follow slowly. We heard this conversation on the radio
... Rouvierre saying to Ken ...hurry up! and Ken saying sweetly “yes my darling, which hole would you like me
to leave the back suspension in! Oh we laughed as never a truer word said in
jest.
They soon found an abandoned lodge called
Maralal Safari lodge - the gate was closed so they drove around the side of the
wall, so funny how they do this, instead of just leaving the gate open they
make another road to go around the gate as that way people will know its closed
but you can still come in if you really want to! They found some old guy who
was looking after the place and asked if we could camp there -Yes, we could for
five hundred shillings per person (about R 50), so now we had to see if we
could get The Queen around the wall... Well Ernest has become a genius at
getting The Queen through small spaces and we were soon in and settled for the
night.
The town of Maralal is situated at about 6000 ft.
above sea level and is quite temperate, not like down at the lake where it is
800 feet, hot and humid. We always like these places as there is less chance of
Malaria. However when we see a mozzie we never know if it is from where we are
camping or if we have brought it with us from previous places. The old lodge
was built about 50 years ago and is owned by the council and as the lease had
expired six years ago, the place had been closed down and waiting for some
other bright businessman to reopen it... This is doubtful. It was in a very very bad state of repair. In
fact it had been reduced to a state of irreducible minimum like a lot of Africa
has become. The property itself was just out of town with very green grass, lush
vegetation and huge cypress trees, stacks of birds and the usual monkeys. There
was a large herd of Zebra and Eland and other stuff which we didn't see. I am
sure the same thing applies here as does with the Masai and they don't eat game
meat or I am sure these herds would no longer be here.
So the caretaker gave us a toilet to use which
was great, as long as you didn't touch the walls or anything else for that
matter as anyone that has travelled in Africa knows!!!!!! Actually it was
really funny as I never duplicated where the toilet was and off I went to find
it. I wandered into the main building which was wooden and barely standing it
was in such a bad state of repair. There
I found a horrible little" ladies room" then, when I pulled the chain I got
the fright of my life as the water just came shooting out from every pipe you
could see... A whole cistern full of water and more came flying out all over
the floor onto the walls shooting out from different pipes up, down and
sideways ...just everywhere. I barely managed to escape without getting
drowned. I went back to the group to say how the hell can we use that toilet to
be greeted with peals of laughter. Andrea had apparently made the same mistake
and discovered that we had the wrong toilet... There was a much more civilized
working one. We had also been offered a room for an extra 500 shillings but
after inspection we said “thanks, but no thanks” we would just rather use the truck or just
go to bed dirty.
It rained again that night but to be honest, we
all welcomed the cooling down effect and it was great to hear the owls and
zebras through the night.
We had an old Samburu guard who sat on a stone
wall to “guard us". He
looked at least 90 years old (probably only 50) but he never left us the whole
night... He was quite fascinated at everything we did and watched every move
with such interest. We wondered what he was thinking but in retrospect I think
he doesn't really think of anything - reminded me of a picture that I once had
that said " sometimes I sits and thinks and sometimes I just sits ".
We gave him all our left over chicken and veggies from dinner which he
gratefully took on a paper plate. We then heard him phone someone (yes they all
have cell phones even here) and next thing a motor bike arrived and fetched the
food, obviously for the children. Gosh it made us realize how totally unselfish
and community orientated these people are. He never ate any of it despite being
unbelievably thin himself; he shared it with his family. This really made me
feel bad. Of course this just pushed a huge button so I then started making
peanut butter sandwiches for him and his old mate that had joined him to watch
the spectacle of these Strange Travelers. This he ate with relish probably
never having tasted peanut butter before.
Signing off for now!
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