To Nairobi
Sunday, August 28, 2005
As the sun rose through pink clouds we crossed the equator and flew over the plains of Kenya towards Nairobi. There were glimpses of lakes down below and here and there a hilltop poked its head out of the mist.
As we came in for a landing over the outskirts of Nairobi the pretty dawn dissipated and left the landscape flat and yellow under drear skies. We didn't see much of the city, just some tin shacks and sprawling slums. The sky glowered; it looked like it was going to rain. I was glad I'd brought something warm to wear.
The passport control area at Jomo Kenyatta International was painted in depressing high-school hallway shades of orange.
Swarms of people formed uncertain lines that moved haphazardly forward, sometimes stopping and reforming in other places as Kenyan officials grinned merrily as they spontaneously disappeared from various wickets, leaving the people in front of it scrambling to join another line.
I think if there is a Hell it will probably involve frustrating airport line-ups. My family finally emerges with African entry stamps in our passports.
Our bags have all miraculously arrived as well. On this trip we are loaded down with sleeping bags and mats as well as back-packs. This is my first trip where I've had to check baggage. I prefer to travel as lightly as possible, but at least we don't have to bring our own tents.
It wasn't difficult to find the safari group leader. He was a young and cheerful Australian fellow named Wayne. As soon as the group had assembled and had changed some money to Kenyan schillings, he led us out to the parking lot where our overland vehicle awaited us.
It was right out of Mad Max --a lumbering truck-bus-tank. We were assigned narrow lockers that we poured our neatly-packed baggage into willy-nilly. Sleeping bags were stowed. Twenty strangers introduced themselves to one another and we were off.
As the sun rose through pink clouds we crossed the equator and flew over the plains of Kenya towards Nairobi. There were glimpses of lakes down below and here and there a hilltop poked its head out of the mist.
As we came in for a landing over the outskirts of Nairobi the pretty dawn dissipated and left the landscape flat and yellow under drear skies. We didn't see much of the city, just some tin shacks and sprawling slums. The sky glowered; it looked like it was going to rain. I was glad I'd brought something warm to wear.
The passport control area at Jomo Kenyatta International was painted in depressing high-school hallway shades of orange.
Swarms of people formed uncertain lines that moved haphazardly forward, sometimes stopping and reforming in other places as Kenyan officials grinned merrily as they spontaneously disappeared from various wickets, leaving the people in front of it scrambling to join another line.
I think if there is a Hell it will probably involve frustrating airport line-ups. My family finally emerges with African entry stamps in our passports.
Our bags have all miraculously arrived as well. On this trip we are loaded down with sleeping bags and mats as well as back-packs. This is my first trip where I've had to check baggage. I prefer to travel as lightly as possible, but at least we don't have to bring our own tents.
It wasn't difficult to find the safari group leader. He was a young and cheerful Australian fellow named Wayne. As soon as the group had assembled and had changed some money to Kenyan schillings, he led us out to the parking lot where our overland vehicle awaited us.
It was right out of Mad Max --a lumbering truck-bus-tank. We were assigned narrow lockers that we poured our neatly-packed baggage into willy-nilly. Sleeping bags were stowed. Twenty strangers introduced themselves to one another and we were off.
posted by Spider Girl | 11:06 AM
1 Comments:
I can hear it now..."Hello, George...where are we off to now!?!"
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