Photos : The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust 2010
Kenyan Airlines
Oh how fortunate we were to deal with Kenyan/Precision air…..please insert huge amounts of sarcasm!
With a delay to our inbound flight we had almost no time to make our connection to Kilimanjaro and we were hoping for a smooth transit. Told that we should be fine to make the connection but we must hurry, we set off at a light jog to ensure our bags would make the connection. We had asked at Heathrow if our bags could be checked through to Kilimanjaro but was told it wasn’t possible, we would have to collect them in Nairobi and put them on the next flight. No problem you say? In any ordinary airport I’d agree however this is Nairobi and you’re not allowed to get from the gates to the baggage collection area therefore you’re forced to enlist of the customer service desk for the task.
Customer Service is an oxymoron…..complete with mindless stupidity!!! There are customers who want service, as one would expect, but there’s the other side of the coin where the customer service desk is manned by those who would deliver customer service. How naive one would be to assume such a novel or idealistic notion. I grant you the desk is manned however the wonton disinterest of the staff is surpassed only by their lack of professionalism. As we approached the bank of desks we were lucky enough to find it manned with an overwhelming number of staff. Things were looking up! With 5 staff things should get sorted out quickly. Ha!! One problem we found was on approach the all looked away. 4 heads looked down at their nail files, papers and the one at the end was trying to remove some debris lodged in her nostril. As luck would have it, the nostril lady was the one to whom we were directed.
The way things work even though you can’t get the baggage area, one of the assistants can. All you need to do is accurately describe your baggage by picking it out of the ‘baggage line up’ (the plastic covered sheets that has most types of bags shown…but not really ours). Out of the baggage lineup we selected our guilty bag and advised its looks to the nostril lady. She leaped from her seat (not really, it was more like mustered enough energy to get her lethargic backside up). She then danced away to the baggage area (not really, it was more like put her backside in first gear and dawdled). Like Moses supposedly parting the Red sea, the doors magically opened and consumed the nostril lady. Our onward flight was now out of our hands but we had the utmost confidence in our bags being on the next leg/flight (not really….we doubted she could find anything except her other nostril).
Our flight was departing in less than 45 mins and still no sight of the nose lady. Eventually the baggage area released our baggage rescuer. She almost nonchalantly strode back along the hallway to the desk. Nose lady sat down, straightened her outfit, smiled at her desk buddies before turning her attention to us. In a semi self satisfied voice advising us the bags were found. End of conversation. “Thanks. Can you tell us if they have made it to our flight?” “Oh yes. They will be on the flight”.
Now all we had to was get the flight. Our collective thought…RUN! So we did…until we stumbled upon the passenger roadblock at the check in desk. We were down to about 30 mins and the line up was about 30 deep and stagnant…completely stagnant..I think some people actually celebrated multiple birthdays whilst waiting. The only thing moving was time but not the line and not the people at the check in desk (all 2 of them). We were doomed. Chris dashed around the front of the queue and found another 10 people in the same predicament as us i.e. all vying for a boarding pass on the Kili flight. As all roads lead to Rome, all passengers lead to the check-in desk. The corral was starting to overflow and the wranglers were completely out of their depth.
There were stares and glares from the people who had been waiting for an eternity in this line at those of us invited to springboard to the front of the line. I checked around for any poison darts or people with a voodoo doll looking like me, however the coast seemed clear. All clear except for the line up and of course the death stares from those in line who had sleep deprived bloodshot eyes. We managed to get our passes and we still had enough time to make the flight.
Off to the gate and discovered everyone at the gate. I had my 50l day pack with me that is at the upper limits of the carry-on baggage limits and I figured everything would be fine to take this onboard (I told you I’m naive). As we were lining up to board the plane, a guy 3 places in front had a pack about 2/3 the size of mine but was told it would have to go in the cargo. There was no way I was going to put mine in there as it had all my camera equipment. As he was putting his point of view across to the boarding gestapo, the rest of us started to board so I inconspicuously (even I don’t believe that but hope you might) removed my pack and ‘smuggled’ it past him and up into the plane. There’s a reason the other guy had his bag put in the hold…the overhead compartment is only large enough for a wallet or a small book plus the seats are so close together that even a new born child would struggle to not feel cramped. We grabbed a seat and I’m not sure how but I managed to squeeze the pack between my knees. To find out what happened to our bags (if you’re totally bored or maybe suffer from insomnia) you’ll have to read the Kili page.
Whistle Blowers
The traffic and traffic controls in Nairobi are an exercise in creativity. The traffic cops compete with common sense, traffic lights and traffic. The only winner in the exercise is traffic congestion…not the reduction of it mind you, but the increase. At one of the main intersections there’s a roundabout that’s controlled by the cops rather than the lights. This in itself is in retaliation to the traffic or more accurately the drivers who snub their collective noses at common sense, road rules, safety, car welfare (aka looking after ones vehicle) and road etiquette (ok so the last one’s a bit of a stretch for Kenya). If you’ve been to SE Asia, Pakistan, India etc you know the score. At the roundabout you can buy all manner of things from the hawkers walking up and down the car park. You can buy books for school, maps of the world, food, drink, toothbrushes, baby clothes, kitchenware’s, building supplies….in fact pretty much anything you need. Eventually you move, often at an agonisingly slow pace, but you do move.
Nairobi is a city….it’s a city….it’s a city. No matter how many times I say it I still can’t find an adjective or hyperbole that’s going to make it sound anything more than a collection of houses, slums, roads but without the charisma of other cities. It does have its saving graces though but I’m not sure it’s within the ‘city limits’ and that saving grace is the national parks. In fact the only pictures we took in Nairobi were at the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust.
Nairobi gets its fair share of tourists. With tourists comes tour operators and with the operators comes the salesmen for said tour operators. As a tourist you can’t walk 1/2 a block without being hassled to go on safari or visit a shop. “my friend, please come and look at my safari. You must look!”. You pretend the voice was only in your head thus not responding. This tactic doesn’t work that often. You attempt to avoid conversing and refuse to acknowledge their physical existence however they are like a dog with a frisbee and just as tenacious. You have to adopt a different persona in order to retain your sanity and keep the vultures at bay. The first 200 times you try being polite in declining the requests for safaris, shopping or city tours but when actually hit on the shoulder (no I’m not kidding) or tracked like a wounded animal, your tact ends. Being accosted then told “you must look at my safari” sparked the response “ahhhh Nah! I don’t have to look at your shop! And you’re not my friend!”.
The city has a mixed architecture; old and new, old and being built. The parliament building seemed transplanted from Russia. In the 4 or 5 times we drove past I can’t recall anyone or any vehicles being around. This may be due to it being a weekend or due to people being embarrassed to be associated with this relic.
Many of the buildings had dilapidated from the 2nd floor up but with the ground floor being used by businesses. There’s a market in the center of town that I expected to be for tourists only however although it sold mainly trinkets, clothes, carvings, t-shirts, etc. many of the shoppers were Kenyan’s. I’m still saying it’s a tacky market full of tack but the mixture of customers was the surprising thing.
When too much meat is not enough
Apparently a restaurant called Carnivores is amongst the top 50 restaurants in the world. I’ve no idea what constitutes the top 50, who created this list or why Carnivores would be listed in it. If you haven’t already guessed by the name, Carnivores is a restaurant that specialises in meat…in fact that’s almost all it serves. From town it’s a £12 cab ride to the restaurant that almost borders the Nairobi National Park (we hoped that isn’t were the meat comes from). The service is very efficient bordering on officious (if the service could be that). As soon as you walk in you are seated and then have the rules of engagement explained. There’s a small flag pole on the table with a Carnivore flag. When the flag is up, you eat….the flag is down you’re ready to explode. I had hoped to be served varied meats ranging from the norm to the exotic however there wasn’t any camel, wildebeest or zebra. The only ‘unusual’ meat was ostrich balls.
It feels a little rushed as you don’t have time to relax prior to food being served and once you start it’s almost an endless stream of meats being served on large knives/skewers by the waiters. Once you’ve decided you’ve consumed enough meat in one night to feed a small village inhabited by a pack of hyenas, you decide the flag had best be relieved of it’s duty. As the flag hits the table top, a waiter materialises asking about dessert. You have to politely postpone your response merely to allow your body to recover from the main course.
The staff are friendly and respectful of your wishes but it’s not the most relaxed or tasty meal we’ve had. Would I go again if I were in Nairobi? Probably not but I would recommend it for a visit if you are in the area.
Mumbo Jumbo
The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust was set up to look after orphaned animals, more particularly, elephants with a couple of rhino’s thrown in. Our friends had been to Dave’s place 2 weeks prior and we followed suit. I would recommend visiting Dave’s park to see both the orphaned elephants as well as supporting the trust’s cause.
There are 3 feedings per day however only 1 is open to the general public. You congregate around a small pool/mud bath as the elephants are ushered in. The only thing separating you and the elephants is a single rope cordon and of course the elephant handlers. The rope provides the magical wall and for the most part was obeyed by the elephants.
Each elephant has its own story and personality. The story is relayed by the handlers but the personality of the animal is readily apparent. Many of the infant elephants have almost a sly grin as they syphon the milk bottles. They know only too well to get the milk then it’s play time. Apart from the handlers, it’s only this once a day feeding when they come into human contact. This sometimes translates into them playing to the crowd for attention. In this relatively informal surrounding, you take a more interactive and less voyeuristic experience to the standard city zoo. One important distinction for me between this park and a city zoo, is the animals were being released back to the wild and not kept in a man made jail existing only for the entertainment of the masses. If you can’t have a free range zoo then don’t have a zoo.
Final Thoughts
As soon as you cross the border from Tanzania to Kenya you notice a change in the people’s dress, attitude, atmosphere and importantly for the frugal tourist, the price of items goes up significantly. It’s fair to say that Nairobi isn’t my favourite place in the world but it’s by no means the worst. We may got back to Kenya to do a walking type safari but won’t be hanging around Nairobi 🙂