Boring bird watching, feral laundry-eating dogs and camping in Africa (Kisumu)

Rather than waking up in the rainforest surrounded by caroling birds and cheeky monkeys, we awoke in Paradise and got the hell out of there. Most of us went back for a walk in the Kakapoopoo forest where our guide was Eunice, a lovely woman and a lawyer by trade.  I spent my time largely distracted by the mystery of her drastic career change until fellow travellers eventually clarified that she was not a lawyer by trade, but a Luhya by tribe.

With all due respect to ornithologists, bird watching is really dull. And it hurts the neck.  Add to that a pair of binoculars that I couldn’t get to work properly, and a less-than-blistering pace, and…. yawn. I amused myself by watching Jean-Luc’s face gradually atrophy with boredom, a slight trickle of drool running from the corner of his mouth. We did see a bunch of red and blue touraco, apparently an unusual sighting. I guess that was supposed to be exciting. In the background at one point we could hear a hum of bees.  Our guide advised that they had tiny bees, the size of ants. “Do they sting?” I asked. “Yes, they sting,” she replied cheerfully and matter-of-factly. Wonderful. But all this complaining was worth it in the end with the monkeys. It was amazing how much noise they make as they crashed through the forest. I got within one metre of a blue monkey – that was cool.  And I didn’t get swarmed by minute evil pain-inducing bees. That was more cool.

Roadside Kenya

Defying the laws of physics

After the excitement of Kakamega we had another challenging drive to Kisumu, Kenya’s third-largest city, on the banks of Lake Victoria.  To find a camping option The Bible pointed us to the Kisumu Beach Resort, which sounded promising but was summed up rather succinctly by Merilee who said, under her breath in the bathroom, “gross”.  It really wasn’t that bad — I think Merilee was just expressing the trip’s recent challenges.  We managed to squeeze in some laundering, but I was not amused to find that one of the many dogs in the vicinity had run off my sock which I then had to re-wash. Gross. That night after dinner Ali, Sherry, Lilah, Merilee and I washed and dried dishes (which is done by waving with one’s arms until they dry), and it felt very African, the women gathering, talking while doing the chores.  If nothing else, one of the greatest parts of this trip was the degree of interaction not only between the mzungu and the Kenyans, but between the travellers.  Hours and hours of talking and we never ran out of conversation!

In a tent you can hear everything. Shortly after retiring I heard this incredible ruckus coming from chez Jim and Merilee.  I finally asked, “What the hell is going on with you two?” It was their first time using their air mattresses, and they were not able to lie on them without sliding off. “Why don’t you try re-inflating them?” I heard Jim mutter to Merilee. The more this continued the more I laughed until I worried that I was becoming hysterical (like I did on the Screaming Demon ride at the Docks.) I had to distract myself with other focuses, so I asked Ali, “Is this the hottest we’ve been so far?” “Yes,” she replied matter-of-factly and not so cheerfully.  It didn’t look like I was going to get a lot of use out of my thermal long underwear. Then I heard thunder and flashes of distant lightning brightened the tent. “Ali, is it raining?” I asked.  “Amy, you will know if it’s raining, I promise,” my exasperated tentmate replied. The next morning: “Ali, are you awake? What’s that noise?”  “You mean the screaming monkeys?” “No, the humming that sounds like killer bees,” I replied as I quickly poked my head out of the tent. Luckily there were no bees within visual range, killer or otherwise, which is good because surely they would have devoured my head.

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