Suffocating lakes and ahhh, those African hotels…. (Nakuru)

The following day we took a boat on Lake Naivasha. It was a chilly early morning outing — Alison is forever my hero for bringing the blanket she “borrowed” from Lufthansa. We observed hippos from a comfortable distance, a wise decision because they are extremely unpleasant and aggressive, and about a month ago a tourist was killed by one at the lakeside camp we were visiting. I learned of the lake’s many problems: water hyacinth introduced as crayfish food which is now inhaling the lake’s oxygen and seemingly unstoppable; water shortages due to drought and the forty mostly Dutch-owned vast flower farms using the lake for irrigation. When we disembarked, Nanopod pronounced “it smells like s**t” and we hiked to Green Crater Lake, after which we chilled by the pool (obscenely bourgeois in thirsty Kenya) and walked through the grounds, carefully avoiding any hints of hippopotami.

As we drove through urban and rural landscapes, I couldn’t help but notice the proliferation of roadside hotels.  Absolutely horrifying roadside hotels. Buildings of barely-secured corrugated metal, six foot ceilings, windowless, erected on the dirt, but with imaginative and inspiring names, like the captivating “Starlight Hotel”, a vision in rusty blue. The question “who stays

Hotel, with amenities

there?” danced silently in my thoughts until someone mentioned that part of the reason HIV has spread so violently throughout this continent is because of the long-distance truck drivers – ah. Interestingly, hotels are often paired with butcher shops, a certain deterrent from doing a runner. My favourite was the “Oasis of Love Church and Hotel”.  Okay, I’m joking about the hotel part, but it does stir the imagination!

Needless to say we weren’t subjected to such questionable accommodation; however, our hotel stays were not without adventure. In Naivasha we were treated to a carbon monoxide “alarm clock” with buses parked directly outside our hotel room door. We could literally walk from our room straight into our bus – truly door-to-door service, no extra charge. In Nakuru we stayed at the Jamka Hotel which at first appeared okay, until I entered… the bathroom. The door was taken from an old barn, probably. It locked from the outside but didn’t close properly from the inside. The toilet had no seat. I have faced such naked commodes in public restrooms, but so far not in hotel rooms.  The toilet paper was placed level with the top of my head, so unless I planned ahead it was an athletic experience. Then there was the shower head.  When I initially noticed it I thought, that doesn’t look so good. My fears were confirmed when Jim from BC, an electrician, gave us a detailed order of operations for having a shower.

“First, turn on the shower. Then go outside the bathroom and turn on the heating switch. When you’re finished, go outside the bathroom and turn off the switch. Then you can turn off the water.  But whatever you do, don’t touch the fixture while showering!”

But the best part was the sink. Upon washing my hands I noticed water on the floor and assumed oh, the sink is leaking.  When it started running across the floor to the drain in the opposite corner I discovered, oh my, there was no connection at the bottom of the sink drain. Like a downspout, water poured freely out of the sink. Apart from the bathroom, the final touch was the mosquito nets.  No matter what we tried (and we tried, with hair elastics, brute force, you name it), they did not cover the bed. Ali brilliantly improvised by securing the net over the window.

Kenyan plumbing