Accustomed to power outages I've become (that sentence seems Yotaesque). Reclined, typing away, tucked into the large and worn off-white leather sofa, the lights sputter. A regular occurance sitting at dinner or working from behind a computer screen the energy infrastructure is not very reliable but power is secondary when you are nestled in the grasps of the wild and the vastness of the Great Rift Valley (GRV- they don't use this acronym but I will rock it). An hour's drive from Nairobi the GRV (see saved you a few milliseconds that you just wasted reading this) and the great lakes region of Kenya lies wide open like the mouth of a child awaiting the spoon aircraft to deposit tasty morsels. The dwarfing backdrops of cloud piercing volcanic mountains, sheer cliff like gashes torn into the bedrock, inflict awe inspiring reflection. God's power and glory, painted on the landscape and molded in the beasts that traverse this land. Getting their is the first challenge, by car, by driving, by ourselves(without our reliant driver)....
Defaulted to the helm because of my experience, a few hours prior, successfully navigating the streets of Nairobi to the ex-pat oasis of Village Market. Our vessel a rough puttering circa 2000 Toyota ceres. A few risk factors immediately come to mind. Traffic flows from the left side of the road. Positioned on the opposite side of the car. The roads are more pitted than a Tiger Woods golf ball. Barren of any lane markings and thus Kenyan drivers follow a path of their own expressive creation.
Our goal to get to the great lake, Lake Naivasha. I am completely winging it but having observed our driver last week I am fairly confident I saw signs to Naivasha on our way to another one of the great lakes, Lake Nakura. Not only did I take note of signs and major landmarks I carefully studied our drivers tried and proven Kenyan driving style. I would attempt to emulate his aggressive and haphazard technique pressing the visibly worn car and its gasping engine to its limits as I overtook one car after another. Sometimes in the direct wake of a visually impairing, exhaust spewing, truck waiting for it to get over to catch a glimpse of the danger ahead making my assessment as to whether I can overtake the truck or it required me to duck in behind the truck to avoid oncoming traffic. The chaos continued along tight and sheer mountain roads adding to the heart pounding excitement, to the utter silence of my passengers.
Approaching a sign etched in wood that read "Holiday Inn" but bore no resemblance to a franchised Holiday Inn, lets call it a bootleg (bootlegs are not uncommon in Kenya). This is where we would settle in for the next few nights. Primary objective, a boat Safari of Lake Naivasha. Our attention was immediately captured by the most deadly animal in Africa, hippos, bathing, wading and grazing. Occasionally we would see a lone ranger hippo. Our guide informed us that this was likely a male from 6 to 10 years of age who was exiled from the pod only to seek his revenge once he devoured enough terrestrial grass that he had the confidence to attempt to dethrone the current pod alpha male.
In addition to numerous hippos our eyes were met with wildebeests, water bucks, giraffes, diverse species of birds and of course zebras against beautiful vistas of Mt. Longonot and tiers of mountains like the layers of tiramisu. As the sun waned we headed back to the hotel for dinner. Our nostrils were stimulated by the smell of garlic and our ears rang with the sweet sounds of some solid dance music from some other young patron's mix tape. We indulged in some spanish red wine, you would think being in Africa that the choices would be heavily weighted to South Africa wines. I found this not the case and here too, Spanish wines are the cheapest (and tastiest). The night was young but the morning was approaching with a day full of adventure. A 21k bike through Hell's Gate and then a 2 hour hike through the gorge.
The 21k on a rickety, rusty mountain bike 3/4 up hill was difficult but worth it. The higher I climbed from 6500ft to the top of the gouge the more glorious the views. Lake Naivasha below surrounded by cloud covered mountains. Zebras and antelopes grazed becoming animated fixtures against sheer and gorgeous gorge vistas.
What goes up must come down...the final 1/4 mile was a white knuckling descent along an erode and soft dirt road into the gorge.
The finale a hike of the gorge that required a guide. Adjoining ourselves to a large group entering the gorge we slipped through the gate. Our goal to split off and embark on a self guided tour. Once we had found ourselves separated from the crowd we explored the canyon. We passed guided tour after guided tour. To be a guide apparently you must carry a walking sticks. As we passed each group the guides would cast a suspicious glares our way.
To play the part I needed the item that was common among all guides...a walking stick. An intense search party ensued. We found a knotty stick that would become the official tour badge and navigate us through the gorge to a safe and successful return. I am left with a feeling of physical accomplishment, of the glory of God and of unique Kenyan nurtured friendship with my two colleagues. This is only the beginning and Kenya has so much to offering and is only revealing a bit at a time....
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