Just when I thought nothing could top my weekend sleeping in Prince William’s bed, I was proven wrong. Three birthdays four days apart, six girls, one luxury resort, a coastal town overrun with lecherous Italians, and more gelato than you can shake a stick at combined for my best Kenyan adventure yet.
A few months ago, we realized that my friends Jess, Sam, and I basically had the same birthday – a weird, yet awesome coincidence. Then and there, we decided that we had to do something epic to celebrate. We settled on a girls’ weekend in Malindi, a resort town about an hour north of Mombasa. Joined by the girls’ roommate Wanda, as well as their friends Soraiya and Diane, we prepared for a weekend of sun, sand, and much, much alcohol.
We flew in on Friday night, and despite being denied a package of mixed nuts by an incredibly rude airline steward, I was very excited. Wanda had arrived a few days before for work and fortunately got to scope out the place before we arrived. She ended up switching our booking to the much nicer Coral Key Resort, which was an excellent decision. The long pool stretched right up to the beach, and it was lined with thatched two-storey huts. Sam and I got the second floor of one of these huts, and I couldn’t decide what feature I liked more – the four poster bed with mosquito netting, or the lovely balcony with the most comfortable couch ever.
We didn’t have too much time to admire our surroundings as Wanda had made a reservation at Tangine restaurant. We ended up being the only people there so we got to enjoy each other’s company while sitting on the rooftop patio and listening to the waves crashing on the beach. Unfortunately I had a chicken burger and beer before we flew so I had completely spoiled my appetite. Undaunted, I ordered an Eskimo pie as my entrée, much to the amusement of everybody. I recommend that everyone order dessert as their dinner at least once in their life – live a little!
Finally, it was time to party. Following the advice of the waiter, we piled into a couple of tuk-tuks and headed over to Stardust. Note: tuk-tuks are little three-wheeled vehicles that are basically motorized tricycles with a roof. They are very loud, and as we found out later that evening, they can go very fast. But I get ahead of myself. Stardust was dead so we headed across the street to a bar called Morgan’s. A number of men hanging around outside called out some pretty crude comments, but when we got inside we realized why. Not only was Morgan’s a total dive bar (let’s just say, 1970’s chic), it was dead except for old Italian men and their very young local ‘escorts’. We were stunned. However, being the only place that actually had people in it, we decided to stay for one drink before booking it. Perched on barstools with a clear view of the dance floor, we watched as two or three people busted some moves. One of these people was a very old Italian whose moves were actually pretty impressive. The girls and I soon became entranced. Even when he ended up being the only person on the dance floor, he kept right on dancing. And then an amazing thing happened – this old man’s enthusiasm, or charisma, or dare I say it, raw sex appeal? – actually DREW people onto the dance floor. Before we knew it, the place was pumpin’ and we were all up there dancing our little hearts out. A couple times the old man actually approached us to dance, but while we admired him excessively, we preferred to do it from a distance and promptly closed ranks. The best part about this story – I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO GET VIDEO OF IT. It will be posted on my facebook shortly so stay tuned.
Exhausted, we decided to head home. We jumped in a couple tuk-tuks and soon we were racing each other. At first it was good clean fun, with the occupants of each tuk-tuk cheering when they overtook the other. I’m not quite sure when things changed but suddenly the driver of our tuk-tuk, apparently obsessed with winning, sped off into the pitch blackness while chanting, “We’re number one!” We were soon flying down the heavily pot-holed street in the middle of the night with only the tuk-tuk’s pitiful headlight to guide us. The tuk-tuk bounced and swerved crazily and soon our cheers turned to screams of “We’re all gonna die!!!” Although I admit, I didn’t even realize I was screaming that until we pulled up to the resort door. As we walked through the resort lobby laughing about the escapade, we noticed a lone statue illuminated at the end of the hall. As we approached we realized it was a huge metal gorilla, staring vacantly at us. “It looks so disapproving”, someone said, and our late night relationship with Disapproving Gorilla was born. After thinking up some things Disapproving Gorilla might say (“Why are you home so late? You’re making too much noise!”), we crawled into bed exhausted, but satisfied.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Weekend in Malindi Pt 2 OR, Loving You with Force
We spent the next day lazing about the resort, and my love affair with the pool was born. The pool was unusually warm, which I loved. It also had a lot of character. Let me explain: the pool was long and slim, snaking its way through the centre of the resort. At one point you had to climb over some rocks to get to the next section. At another point, you had to swim through a tunnel that went under the pool deck. Soraiya was my official pool buddy and we would often turn to each other when bored and say, “Hey, wanna go swim through the tunnel?” However, this wasn’t even my favourite feature. At the end of the pool closest to the beach there was a ‘perch’ about two feet deep where you could sit and look out at the ocean. About 85% of my time spent in the pool was spent sitting on the perch. It was pure heaven.
When we weren’t in the pool, we were eating. For dinner Saturday night we reserved a table at The Old Man and the Sea, a highly recommended restaurant. While the food was good and unusually cheap, we soon become embroiled in a battle of wills with the waiter. It turns out that the Old Man and the Sea closes promptly at 10. We didn’t think too much about this until the waiter began standing uncomfortably close to the table glowering at us. After ordering a round of drinks that never materialized, we decided to be as slow as we possibly could. Our desserts were thrown in front of us, accompanied by the comment, “The chef is finished”, just in case we had any sneaky ideas about ordering more. Jess’ request for an extra spoon was also shot down, again with the aforementioned comment, much to our amusement. After several of our party leisurely visited the washroom, we decided it was time to go. The doors were quickly locked behind us and the street lights turned off, leaving us to flag down a tuk-tuk in the dark. Charming.
On Sunday we rented a car and drove down to Watamu to see if we could catch a glimpse of any whale sharks that frequented the marine park. On the way we stopped at the Gede ruins, the 700 year-old remains of a lost city. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the sprawling ruins of an obviously wealthy settlement slowly being encroached upon by the forest. It was eerily silent, which made it even more beautiful. There were mosques, bath houses, and even a palace, all enclosed by city walls. It was amazing and we even climbed up to an observation platform at the top of a huge baobab tree to take it all in.
After that, we definitely needed a dip in the ocean to cool off. We stopped in at Hemingway’s resort, which was beautiful and even closer to the beach than ours. It was idyllic – the waters were turquoise and the sand white and soft. I would certainly miss that private beach after we got back to our resort.
Unfortunately, our beach was not private and therefore overrun with beach boys. I was confused though, because these guys weren’t carrying anything. “What are they selling?” I asked Soraiya when we first arrived. “Themselves”, she replied. OH. They waited for us at the foot of the resort property to step onto the beach, at which point they promptly followed us while saying absolutely anything to engage us in conversation. After Soraiya and I were called Beyonce and Shakira, I was content to stick to the pool. Jess and Diane, who skipped the Watamu trip, had some interesting stories about them when we got back. “One of them said they wanted to love me with force!” a slightly traumatized Jess said. After getting back into the pool I realized we still weren’t immune to their overtures as one particularly persistent beach boy kept calling “Hello!” over, and over, and over again, his head barely poking over the small wall separating the resort property from the beach.
We woke up early Monday morning to head back to Hemingway’s in Watamu after making arrangements the previous day to go dolphin watching and snorkelling. After a battle over final costs (it can be really aggravating that everything is negotiable here), we were taken out on a small, glass-bottomed boat. We were off to an ominous start – it was raining, the water was choppy, and there were no dolphins to be found. I’m not sure how long we looked, but not long after the sun finally came out, Wanda cried out, “Dolphins!!” We soon followed them to an area where several other dolphin watching boats had gathered. They were all packed with people, which made me feel pretty fortunate that we girls had our boat to ourselves. Suddenly, the other boats took off, leaving us alone with the frolicking dolphins. “Can we swim with them?” we begged. The captain nodded and suddenly I was underwater looking at a pod of dolphins swimming directly below me. A mother and her baby swam up closer to take a good look at us, and soon we were being circled by several. The most incredible part – I could hear them talking! Amazingly, our day trip was not even over yet and we were taken to a picturesque sandbar to stroll and lounge in the shallow water. Our guide found an octopus, which I reluctantly held (very slimy!). We then headed over the to coral shallows where we saw fish of every shape and colour imaginable – and an old man standing naked on the top of one of the sightseeing boats as he got changed. Eww.
Despite the horrendous sunburn I incurred, it was an incredible day. We were all loath to head back to lame old Nairobi but at the same time, I was a little relieved as I don’t think I could have sustained the constant parade of pizza, pasta, gelato, and drinks in pineapples that I was consuming. All in all, a resounding success.
When we weren’t in the pool, we were eating. For dinner Saturday night we reserved a table at The Old Man and the Sea, a highly recommended restaurant. While the food was good and unusually cheap, we soon become embroiled in a battle of wills with the waiter. It turns out that the Old Man and the Sea closes promptly at 10. We didn’t think too much about this until the waiter began standing uncomfortably close to the table glowering at us. After ordering a round of drinks that never materialized, we decided to be as slow as we possibly could. Our desserts were thrown in front of us, accompanied by the comment, “The chef is finished”, just in case we had any sneaky ideas about ordering more. Jess’ request for an extra spoon was also shot down, again with the aforementioned comment, much to our amusement. After several of our party leisurely visited the washroom, we decided it was time to go. The doors were quickly locked behind us and the street lights turned off, leaving us to flag down a tuk-tuk in the dark. Charming.
On Sunday we rented a car and drove down to Watamu to see if we could catch a glimpse of any whale sharks that frequented the marine park. On the way we stopped at the Gede ruins, the 700 year-old remains of a lost city. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the sprawling ruins of an obviously wealthy settlement slowly being encroached upon by the forest. It was eerily silent, which made it even more beautiful. There were mosques, bath houses, and even a palace, all enclosed by city walls. It was amazing and we even climbed up to an observation platform at the top of a huge baobab tree to take it all in.
After that, we definitely needed a dip in the ocean to cool off. We stopped in at Hemingway’s resort, which was beautiful and even closer to the beach than ours. It was idyllic – the waters were turquoise and the sand white and soft. I would certainly miss that private beach after we got back to our resort.
Unfortunately, our beach was not private and therefore overrun with beach boys. I was confused though, because these guys weren’t carrying anything. “What are they selling?” I asked Soraiya when we first arrived. “Themselves”, she replied. OH. They waited for us at the foot of the resort property to step onto the beach, at which point they promptly followed us while saying absolutely anything to engage us in conversation. After Soraiya and I were called Beyonce and Shakira, I was content to stick to the pool. Jess and Diane, who skipped the Watamu trip, had some interesting stories about them when we got back. “One of them said they wanted to love me with force!” a slightly traumatized Jess said. After getting back into the pool I realized we still weren’t immune to their overtures as one particularly persistent beach boy kept calling “Hello!” over, and over, and over again, his head barely poking over the small wall separating the resort property from the beach.
We woke up early Monday morning to head back to Hemingway’s in Watamu after making arrangements the previous day to go dolphin watching and snorkelling. After a battle over final costs (it can be really aggravating that everything is negotiable here), we were taken out on a small, glass-bottomed boat. We were off to an ominous start – it was raining, the water was choppy, and there were no dolphins to be found. I’m not sure how long we looked, but not long after the sun finally came out, Wanda cried out, “Dolphins!!” We soon followed them to an area where several other dolphin watching boats had gathered. They were all packed with people, which made me feel pretty fortunate that we girls had our boat to ourselves. Suddenly, the other boats took off, leaving us alone with the frolicking dolphins. “Can we swim with them?” we begged. The captain nodded and suddenly I was underwater looking at a pod of dolphins swimming directly below me. A mother and her baby swam up closer to take a good look at us, and soon we were being circled by several. The most incredible part – I could hear them talking! Amazingly, our day trip was not even over yet and we were taken to a picturesque sandbar to stroll and lounge in the shallow water. Our guide found an octopus, which I reluctantly held (very slimy!). We then headed over the to coral shallows where we saw fish of every shape and colour imaginable – and an old man standing naked on the top of one of the sightseeing boats as he got changed. Eww.
Despite the horrendous sunburn I incurred, it was an incredible day. We were all loath to head back to lame old Nairobi but at the same time, I was a little relieved as I don’t think I could have sustained the constant parade of pizza, pasta, gelato, and drinks in pineapples that I was consuming. All in all, a resounding success.
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