Travelling in Kenya.

Just read a 'rather funny' post, and it reminded me of a time (it was last Easter, actually) when we travelled down to Kilifi for a long weekend. A dear friend from SA - her nickname for me is Chicken so that's what we'll call her here, was here for a visit, and a local friend Es was also travelling with us. Dawie was flying in from Joburg and taking a connecting flight to Mombasa where we would meet him and then proceed on to Kilifi. The picture is of the house we rented.

But I digress...

Chicken is a 'Kugel' of note. This is 'Souf Efriken-ism' for 'Cool Girl', or a person (of the female persuasion usually, but you do get male kugels) that is a dedicated follower of fashion, talks with a funny-ish nasal, accent (Ye knew doll, this little spot is deviiiiiiine!Im about to platz!) and is ever so slightly over the top. Do not misunderstand me for one second - I love her to pieces, she is such a genuine person and will not hurt a fly, but her mannerisms really are very stereotypical. It is also important to note here that Chicken is VERY well travelled and has been all over the world - both on leisure and business travel. However, most of her travels are to Europe and the like...

So we set of for Mombasa with a cooler box full of Evian water, wet wipes to clean our hands and faces every now and again, some low -GI sandwiches in a cooler and a half a ton of luggage. We also have the air con pumping full blast in the car, and soft, esoteric music playing on the stereo. It's all very Zen...

As you might know, the first section between Nairobi and Machakos Crossing is not particularly smooth, and this took us a good hour and a bit to complete. Chicken is making little funny noises in between mouthfuls of Evian, and me overtaking into oncoming traffic and the occasional crazy driving antics as only displayed here in Kenya. Ducking a diving in between cars and matatus, taking on trucks and just generally being a right arse on the road - loving every minute of it... Chicken - being of the nervous passenger variety, makes comments like -'You never told me we needed a sports bra for this daaaahling', and 'My Gawd, this is stuuuuning doll!' and 'Mummy needs to make piddles, see!'... So, after a rather bouncy bit we stopped at Machakos Crossing at the fuel station to 'make piddles'.

This specific station is used by the truckers that travel on this very busy route and, to be honest, is not particularly 'clean and sanitized'. In fact, as you get out the car, you get a whiff of old urine and blocked toilets, and then you're not even close to the bathroom door yet. You have to still walk around the building... So, Es and Chicken head for the bathroom (I know better, I'll stop next to the road a little out of town) and I sit in the car. Chicken has a packet of wet wipes, a toilet roll and hand lotion in her hands in addition to the whole handbag thing, and Es - being an old Kenyan traveller, a roll of paper and wet wipes.

Chicken, bless her, walked to the bathroom with all her normal flair, flicking her hair, slight bounce in the step and bosom pushed out to as far as it would go - getting the attention they deserve - the puppies, I mean, her Prada heels clicking on the rough sidewalk next to the petrol station. She walked to the door of the bathroom, slight grin on her face and took one step into the door of the bathroom. As if running into a brick wall she stopped, paused for the slightest of moments and duly made a 180 degree turn. Walking back to the car, she looked me straight in the eye and said 'Don't worry sweetie, I'll hold it!'

And she did - until we stopped another two hours later - but she was applying Avroy Slain to her lips every few minutes and not a drop (wet or dry) passed her lips until she had a chance to empty her bladder. I have enormous respect for her - I cannot hold 'it' that long - when a mans gotta go, a mans gotta go!

The rest of our trip was wonderful and the rest of the weekend phenomenal, but that is another post altogether - or maybe I've written about it already... Not about to go back and check. There were other great instances - like when Chicken went to braid her hair in Kilifi, when she was 'attacked by a vicious minkey' in the room, when we had to remove the 'froggie from the bathroom but not kill it, because it has a family' or when we used a tuk-tuk to go to town and it nearly rolled over when negotiating one of the pot-holed streets. (That scream made the whole town of Kilifi stop in it's tracks for a few seconds...)

Dawie and I both LOVE Chicken to pieces and one of the places where we can always just be ourselves is at her stunning home in Sandton. (Obviously!) She is just such a sweet, wonderful and sincere friend. The rare kind!

Now hope y'all have a really purdy day now, see!

TTFN