Here’s the shocker, folks!!!…Physically, emotionally, financially….

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The four cardboard boxes we’d packed, were ready to get shipped at the local post office.

OK. The power is out and will continue to be out for the entire day today as it was last night beginning at 9:30 pm. The generator is a hit and miss, going off and on intermittently. It’s not on now. My computer indicated that I have 45 minutes of battery left so I must write quickly to get this posted.

I hope that our “shocker” didn’t appear as if it was a life-threatening situation. But, for us, it truly is a life-changing situation; physically, emotionally, and financially.

Here it is:  

I had looked far and wide for this pair of 3″ heels a few years ago, loving the neutral color.
This is my last pair of high heels.  Bye, bye, shoes.

This decision didn’t come easily. We’d already packed the four cardboard boxes with clothing, shoes, accessories with the intent of shipping them to our house in South Africa after I’d verified that we could receive packages and confirmed the address. 

Our intent was to have Alfred take us to the Ukunda post office, not to DHL, where we recently had spent KES $38,953, US $458 to have one box shipped from our mailing service in Nevada to the DHL store in Diani Beach, Kenya that weighed only 13 pounds (5.9 kg)! 

Instead, our plan this time was to box everything up that we wanted to ship and use the Ukunda post office, a 45 minute round trip drive from here. It was already set up with Alfred to take us on Friday morning at 10:00 am. 

Unaware of the potential mailing costs at the post office, we knew that we’d have to get a ton of shillings from the ATM with the post office only accepting cash. That in itself presented a dilemma.  f we got too much cash, how would we get it converted to Rand (ZAR), the money used in South Africa, without incurring exchange fees? 

Surprisingly, these long casual cotton dresses are heavy, especially when I purchased them to accommodate my height, 4″ taller than the average woman.  Look at those vitamins! Many of them are also already gone, tossed in the past week. These few bottles were unopened. We only kept those that are an absolute necessity, such as Probiotics for intestinal health, B6 vitamins to prevent kidney stones (has been working for Tom after three surgeries back in the US), and a few for me.

If we discovered that we were short of cash at the post office and didn’t have enough shillings on-hand, we’d have to find another bank or drive back to the original ATM. Talk about stress-inducing! Hot weather, no AC in the taxi, sweat pouring down our necks!  (There are five minutes left on my battery!)

Of course, we weighed the boxes and looked online fruitlessly attempting to find out the postal rates from Kenya to anywhere (to get an idea), let alone to South Africa. No such luck. Nor was there a phone number to call for information. Nor was there a website for the Ukunda post office. Nada. (The generator just came on)! Yippee!

This was going nowhere. Angst was setting in. Then, by chance, I stumbled upon restrictions for sending packages to South Africa. It was the “no shoes” restriction that put me over the edge. To verify this I called the local DHL store (which incidentally is inside a pharmacy, owned by the pharmacist) to discover if this was true. 

The store manager confirmed that only one (1) shoe may be sent in any package to South Africa. One shoe? When would one shoe ever be appropriate? I couldn’t imagine a scenario unless, God forbid, one had only one foot. The list of restrictions continued from there.

Tom has always been prepared to unload as much as possible of his belongings to avoid paying any more outrageous excess baggage fees. We’d already paid over KES $173,500, US $2000 in fees between the Dubai and Venice airports, our only flights thus far.  

The nights of me wearing these dresses are over.  They are all in this pile.

I, on the other hand, wondered what I’d do if I eliminated all my “go out to dinner clothing, shoes, and accessories” some of which I’ve worn in every country we’ve lived in and on every night on the cruises. 

This decision came on Monday night. I tossed and turned all night. This was the final straw in me letting go, narrowing everything in the world, I personally owned down to the maximum that airlines allow to avoid excess baggage fees, a hard reality. Who are they to dictate what I can and can’t take around the world with me?  Anger welled up inside of me. 

Many of you may think, so what? It’s just clothing and shoes. But, as a woman that always delighted in dressing nicely, it had become part of who I am. 

We all, in our own way, are a package. And at some point in our young lives, we develop into the person we choose to become; our demeanor, our persona, our style (or lack of style, if one so chooses), our integrity, our honor, our values, our intellectual pursuits, our business acumen or skill set, and our relationships. For me, it was a package, all pieces included.

Tom understood my angst.  He knows me well accepting all the pieces. He hasn’t pressed the issue. Never. Not after spending the US $2000 for excess baggage. Not recently as we tried to figure out this dilemma. He knew I had to come to this decision on my own.  He was right.

Yesterday morning I gave him the news. I was ready to let go. He hauled out the four packed cardboard boxes from the second bedroom to the glass table in the outdoor living room and I began going through them, keeping only a few items, adding many more. The more I went through the process, the more detached I became, knowing full well this was the right thing to do.

This doesn’t look like much, but it weighs over 40 pounds (18 kg).  In addition, we’ve tossed another 10 pounds in old and worn items (4.5 kg).  On our last flight, our overage was 44 pounds (20 kg).

Tom jumped in with both feet, pulling out newer “casual dressy” clothing, placing them in the boxes along with my items. We’ve literally eliminated 40% of our combined clothing, more mine than Tom’s since he’d already cut back as we’ve traveled, to allow room for my things.

Of course, not all of our belongings consist of clothing and shoes. Perhaps 25% is supplies, electronics, required paper records, cosmetics, and toiletries (of which we have the minimum). We don’t even have a bottle of body lotion using only coconut oil in its place. No perfume. No bubble bath. No soaps. 

Friday, we’ll seal the “space bags,” weigh everything, including the suitcases. Based on the allowed weight for the upcoming airlines, we expect to be within the limits subsequently avoiding excess baggage fees.

Hesborn and Jeremiah will be given the boxes of discarded men’s items to share among themselves with the women’s clothing and shoes to be shared among their wives and sisters.

Nothing we have left in our possession will be appropriate to wear to dinner on our next upcoming cruise in nine months.  We have no doubt that we’ll figure it out as the time approaches.

Physically, it will be easier to haul the bags. Emotionally, we’ll spend no time worrying about the luggage.  Financially, we’ll save US $1000’s each year on excess baggage fees. 

The angst is gone. Acceptance has been found in its place and finally, after 13 months, we’re truly free. 

Interesting facts about Kenya and Africa…Why is Kenya called the “cradle of mankind?”… Check back tomorrow for a shocker!

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From a walk on the beach across the road. One of our favorite views of the Indian Ocean.
From the return walk on the beach as the clouds wafted away.

Yesterday, after posting a list of the name of groups of various African animals. We went back to the website, this link, from which we borrowed the information and found a number of questions and answers that may be of particular interest to geography and wildlife aficionados.

It appears this site originated from an educational program that transpired in Africa over a period of over a month. It was fun for Tom and I review these questions and answers learning much in the process. We wished we’d read this months ago. But, it’s never too late to learn. 

From Hans and Jeri’s 3 floor veranda.

With an upcoming six more months in Africa, we’ll continue to savor its many wonders. Yes, there will continue to be a little whining over the heat, humidity, and bugs, but our experiences definitely will continue to make it all worthwhile.

The answer to the question, “Why is Kenya called the “cradle of mankind” can be found at this link as well as answers to many other questions about Kenya and Africa. If you have school-age children, they too may enjoy some of the questions and answers on this website.

From the yard in Kenya.

As for us, our learning continues, not only about the people, history, cultures, wildlife, and vegetation of the countries we’ve visited around the world, but also on ways we can improve the difficulties, costs and challenges of our travels. It’s an ongoing process.

With so much to do today in preparation for leaving Kenya in 4 days, today is a significant day with much to do.  Thus, I will cut this short for today only. 

On the other hand, tomorrow’s post may astound you as it has us. Check back tomorrow for the photos depicting the situation that has kept me awake off and on for two nights.

The crescent moon, south the equator is revealed in the bottom of the moon.

Our minds play tricks on us…Learning to avoid disappointment…

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Thank you, loyal readers, for taking the time to read the relatively mundane storytelling of the process of preparing to leave yet another country. At this point, if we didn’t share this process, our alternative would be to avoid posting for many days with little else to tell.

Nothing pleases us more than sharing photos and accompanying stories that seem to pique the interest of most of our readers. What’s to show or tell when the packing in itself is repetitious and boring?

But, wait! A week from today we’ll be lounging on our new veranda with a tower (see chart below) of giraffes only feet away nipping at the tree tops or a sounder (see chart below) of warthogs getting comfortable for an afternoon nap in the yard or a crossing (see chart below) of zebras staring at us in wonder as they contemplate a drink from the swimming pool.

Animal
A group is called a –
Cobras Quiver
Crocodiles Float
Elephants Herd
Giraffe Tower
Gorillas Band
Leopards Leap
Lions Pride
Rhino Crash
Warthogs Sounder
Zebra Crossing or Herd

Click! Click! Click! Will the camera be smoking’ then or what? 

With much to do to prepare, to hopefully arrive safely in Marloth Park, South Africa next Sunday by late afternoon, as soon as we have an Internet connection, we’ll be posting photos and the story of our arrival. 

If, for some reason you don’t hear from us by then, please be patient. Our flight may have been delayed. We may be delayed at immigration or customs. Who knows what delays may present themselves? We don’t worry about possible delays as long as we arrive safely, hopefully with our luggage.

Of all the places we’ve visited thus far, I can honestly say, I’ve anticipated South Africa the most, mainly based on the opportunity to live in a wildlife reserve, bugs, heat, and all. 

Invariably, when entering the new locations, we’ve discovered some disappointments that the house isn’t exactly as we’d imagine. Human nature. You know how we get a picture in our mind, even with accompanying photos of what something will look and feel like, only to find something different upon arrival. 

This isn’t to imply that the property description was inaccurate or dishonest in any manner. It’s just the fact that our brains play tricks on us, helping us paint of picture of “what we’d like it to be” as opposed to “what it is.”  Moving as often as we have in the past 13 months, we’ve come to accept this fact as simply a part of the process. In a few days, we’ll be settled in, accepting the differences, but oddly never forgetting the image we’d conjured in our minds. I guess this is true in life in every area.

So now, I imagine the plastic “vacuum sealed bags” containing all of our clothing, securely closed in our luggage with zippers working and walking out the door of the house in Diani Beach, Kenya five days from today. 

Carrying with us will be the memories of safari which in this case, were more breathtaking than any vision we may have had in our brains long ago.

Friday night’s unappetizing dinner experience…Last trip to Nakumatt…Saturday night’s final dinner at Sails Restaurant…

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While playing Gin on Saturday, this gecko appeared on one of the pillars supporting the roof. Its feet moved in a sticky manner, using each toe in the process seemingly all going in different directions.

To compare Friday night’s dinner at a popular local restaurant to Sails Restaurant was like comparing dining on a can of Spaghetti-O’s to experiencing a gourmet meal of fresh-caught grilled lobster tail, prepared to perfection.  There’s simply no comparison.

On Friday night, Hans and Jeri asked us to double date for dinner at a local haunt that typically has been good for them. Not for a moment would we question their taste in good food. However, it must have been an “off night” for the cook. Thus, we won’t attempt to tarnish their reputation by our dismal review by mentioning the name of the restaurant. 

That’s not our style. If we have something “good” or “excellent” to say, we don’t hesitate to mention the name and at times, include the link for travelers who may be reading from afar. 

In the event of inferior quality food or service, we tend to stay mum showing our disdain by not returning a second time. With a week remaining until we leave Kenya, a second visit would have been highly unlikely. 

Tom’s hair was blowing with his back to the wind at Sails Restaurant.  The cool ocean breeze was heavenly.

Thus, I felt compelled to share the first instance in Kenya of a challenge in getting my meal cooked properly to fit my way of eating. Also, for those of you choosing to embark on this manner of eating to improve your health, it’s important for us to share less than ideal situations in the event you encounter occasional dining out fiasco.  It is bound to happen.

Of course, Hans and Jeri, our dinner companions were as engaging as always and the conversation was enjoyable. Driving with them was a nice break from a taxi. Hans’ engine of his car blew long before we arrived and it is still in the shop three months later, leaving him no option but to rent a car. 

The restaurant, not on the ocean, had no breeze and was hot and humid. Dressed in our BugsAway long-sleeved clothing, the entire time we were in the restaurant we were sweating more than ever. It’s no wonder we love dining on the sea with the cooling ocean breezes! Being hot and uncomfortable, almost served as a warning to me that it was going downhill from there. Indeed it did!

I equally enjoyed the cool ocean breeze at Sails. Not so much at Friday night’s dinner at an off the ocean restaurant.

The menu was tricky.  Many items were in thick floury and sweet sauces. My choices were limited to grilled fish and vegetables, which I often order in one form or another, usually pleased with the result. Not on Friday night!

Ordering the grilled red snapper, after giving the server my restrictions list to show to the cook written in Swahili on my smartphone, he returned to the table assuring me that it was no problem. By the time our food arrived, it was 9:00 pm and we were all ready to dine. (We hadn’t left the houses until 8:00 pm since most local residents dine much later than our usual 7:00 pm).

Once the plate was set in front of me, I immediately knew something wasn’t right. The thin snapper fillet was covered in a browned batter, most likely coated in flour. Gently, I asked the server to go ask the chef what was on the outside of the fish. He returned saying, “A little flour.”

Again in a kindly tone, I said, “Please tell the cook to start over, grill the fish, no flour, no batter, no coating, just plain. Plus remove all the vegetables and replace them with freshly cooked vegetables. It is dangerous to my health for the flour to touch the food.”  

Moments later, we heard the cook raising his voice in the kitchen. Ouch! Was he rambling on about my food? 

I encouraged the rest of our table to go ahead and eat their food while it was hot and I’d catch up later.  A new plate of food didn’t arrive until 9:25. This piece of fish was flatter yet, perhaps 1/4″, .6 cm,  and was fried in some greasy substance, swimming in grease on my plate. It was so thin, it didn’t have any fleshy portion on the inside of the crisped exterior. The “new” vegetables were on a side plate, were also swimming in grease and grossly over-salted, inedible.

Not wanting to make a further scene, especially when everyone else’s food was palatable, I ate the fish out of desperation, never saying another word. (Hans tasted my vegetables and agreed they were inedible).

By 10:00 pm, after we turned down an invitation to accompany Hans and Jeri at the local disco, we chose the offered ride back to the house, where they dropped us off to go back out. With discos staying open until 5:00 am, neither of us could imagine spending the night in a smokey (smoking is allowed in bars and restaurants), a hot, noisy disco with no AC. 

Returning to our house, still wearing our BugsAway clothing, we decided to watch a movie after I grabbed a bowl filled with raw macadamia nuts, almond and cashews and turned on the fan. That was our Friday night.

On Saturday morning at 10:00, Alfred drove us to Nakumatt for our final grocery shopping, spending KES $8800, US $101, to include three more jugs of water and limited amounts of food items to complete the five remaining meals we planned to cook before leaving, dining out on the remainder.

At promptly 7:00 pm, Alfred, returned again to take us to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Sails at the Almanara Resort. Being our last time to dine at Sails, I decided to have the grilled seafood platter, the same entrée I’d had on our first visit. Tom had the Crab Au Gratin, the same item he’d had on a previous visit.

Tom’s Crab Au Gratin was as delicious as the last time he’d ordered it.

One would assume that a grilled seafood platter wouldn’t have flour, grain, sugar, or starch but I didn’t hesitate to ask the chef to read my list. As it turned out the chef didn’t speak Swahili.  We could hear the waiter translating it for him from afar, causing us to chuckle.

The seafood platter was smaller than the first time, saltier, and very greasy. Gee, did those two chefs from each night, talk to one another? I ate it anyway with nary a mention. So it goes. It’s only food. Right? I’m certainly not starving from a lack of nourishment.

As we dined, we both reveled in the cooling ocean breeze, wicking all the droplets of sweat seemingly stuck on our skin for hours. We sat at our usual table closest to the sea. The dining area is under huge canvas sails with giant windows that can be closed in the event of rain or inclement weather. A tourist couple opposite us started complaining that it was too windy for them to eat, insisting that the canvas be lowered to close the windows.

My dinner at Sails was too heavy on the oil, very different from the first time I’d ordered this entrée.

We were disappointed to lose the cooling breeze as the server hesitantly lowered it when he heard all of the other guests complaining about the shade coming down, blocking the wind and the view. “The squeaky wheel gets the grease,” so they say. 

How annoyed we all were with the squeaky wheel! At that point, we started sweating again, anxious to finish eating, and be on our way. Why tourists will make fools of themselves, demanding to do it “their way” escapes us. 

From Friday’s less than palatable dinner, for which we paid full price, to Saturday night’s less than perfect seafood platter, we’ve found that gracious acceptance goes a long way over demanding exclamations of annoyance. Also, one must consider that that complaining in a public environment could result in a dangerous situation.  We’re not chumps. We chose this life. Sometimes it is not what we expected or desired. We do the best we can.

Over a year ago, when this journey began, we decided we’d accept a situation as long as our health, well being, and safety weren’t at risk. 

Before arriving at this house in Kenya, we had no idea from the photos that there was no inside living room, sofa, or place to sit.  Had we known that, we’d have chosen another property. Would I now ask, whenever we rent a vacation home, “Does it have a living room?” Is that some lesson we needed to learn? 

But, in the end, we accepted the situation, adapting to spending 16 hours a day living outdoors, making some wonderful new friends, spending fun time with Jessie and Gucci, and experiencing the most amazing adventures of our lives while living in Kenya.

Perhaps, we’ve learned a lesson in the process. We may have become tougher than we’d have ever imagined.

Ouch, a bug just bit my foot. I swatted it off.  No squeal, no gasp, and only a slight mention to Tom, who shrugged. I grabbed the repellent and lathered up one more time.

Part 2, Departure plan in place..Step by step process…Handling of leftover supplies…

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It would be ideal if we could use all of the foodstuffs, cleaning supplies, and paper products that we acquired when spending up to three months at each location. Each time we move into a new location, we’ve found that we spend a fair sum to stock the new home with the basic necessities. 

Our goals are simple; don’t be wasteful and, don’t be wasteful with our money. However, we must admit that we’ll be leaving many items behind that are both impractical and costly to pack.

Although we try to gauge how much of any item we’ll use, it is frustrating to have purchased grocery items we never used, ingredients for a specific recipe that we never made but purchased with the best intentions. It is those very items that often filled our kitchen cabinets anyway, stuff we may never use, eventually to be donated or thrown away? Besides, no matter where we live, I’m not exempt from the occasional “impulse purchase.” 

When we arrived here, I jumped at the chance to purchase a large bottle of organic “real” vanilla extract for KES $520.50, US $5.76.  ‘d hoped to find unsweetened “real” chocolate so I could make our favorite sugar free, low carb fudge. Never found the chocolate. Never opened the bottle of vanilla. So it goes. I won’t bore you with several other such items we’ll be leaving behind. 

Then, there’s the bigger expense that we’ve incurred while in Kenya, the purchase of “scratch-off” cards for data to “top off” our Kenya SIM cards for our two MiFi devices for Internet connectivity. These are useless to us once we leave Kenya. They don’t work outside the country, typical for SIM cards in most countries, tricky for us world travelers. 

Another area of concern is the disposal of clothing that has either worn out or we’ve found to have no occasion to wear.

The question for today:  How will we dispose of leftover, unused, unwanted, and no longer relevant items which we have no desire or intention of packing?

The food items will be left behind informing Hesborn or Jeremiah to take any of the items they’ll use and either leave the balance for future renters or if they choose, for Hans and Jeri.

When we left Italy, we’d posted photos of a pile of clothing and shoes we’d left behind for Lisa and Luca, the kindly landlords, to either keep, give to family or friends, or to donate which they gladly offered when we mentioned this dilemma. 

The clothing, yet to be sorted, is much smaller now that we’ve narrowed our clothing down to one large suitcase each. Some worn items will be tossed. In a concerted effort to reduce the weight of our bags, we’ve decided to ship ahead a few boxes utilizing the Ukunda post office that will allow us to insure the contents of the boxes.  Alfred will drive us to Ukunda on Friday to ship them off.

At this point, we have no idea as to the cost to ship these boxes within the continent. The fact that we’re willing to ship them by the slowest possible method to save on the cost should result in our receiving them within a month or so, which is fine for us. 

Why not toss these items? The biggest issue is the difficulty in finding clothing to fit me. I’m tall and wear an odd size. My inseam is 35″ (88 cm). Do I want to take the time to find a pair of pants or dress long enough not to embarrass myself? No. In all of the countries we’ve visited thus far, the women are shorter than I (here’s a chart of the average heights of men and women worldwide).

In only nine months I’ll need the to-be-shipped clothing items and shoes for two upcoming cruises. One of the highlights of cruising for us is dining in the main dining areas which typically don’t allow jeans or shorts. 

We don’t want to be forced to eat at the buffet for dinner due to our lack of proper clothing, which we’ve only done twice on our eight prior cruises, each time, much to our dismay; once when returning late from an excursion with the main dining room closed and another, on the night of a Minnesota Vikings Playoff game when we loaded trays filled with food to take to our cabin to watch the game. (The TV signal was lost almost entirely throughout the game and, surprisingly, ha, Minnesota lost).

Yes, I know in a prior post, I’d mentioned my willingness to forgo style and selection in my attire. But when on cruises, one surely desires to get their money’s worth of the meals already included in the fare in the main dining areas. Were it not for this fact, I’d gladly dispose of my few remaining dresses, and matching sandals. In any case, we’re shipping all of those. 

We’d already ditched all of our “formal attire” for the dress-up nights, falling back on our basic inventory for those evenings since formal wear is not mandatory on most cruises. 

In essence, it’s clothing and shoes that we’re shipping. I have six pairs of shoes in my possession and my beloved safari boots. That’s all I own: one pair of Keds leather slip ons, one pair of tan 3″ heels, one pair of water shoes, plus three pairs of Clark’s sandals: black, beige and white. (I left my bulky workout shoes in Italy.  These can easily be replaced once we’re near a health club again).

Tom, on the other hand, has four pairs of shoes: one pair of tennis shoes, one pair of water shoes and two pairs of Cole Haan, one dressy, one casual, and of course, his safari boots. 

Start adding up shoes alone and they consume an entire carry on bag. Ah, the challenges of stuff, continues to play a role in our lives, although considerably less than it used to.

The end result of our clothing issues;  we’re shipping ahead enough weight in shoes and clothing, weighing everything on our portable scale, in order to avoid paying excess baggage fees when we fly to South Africa a week from today. Once these boxes are shipped, we’ll share how much we paid for the shipping.

The final items that we’ve contemplated over these past few weeks, was the remaining data left on our SIM cards on my MiFis. As of today, Tom has 8.7 gigabytes, remaining and I have 9.1 gigabytes remaining, more than enough for Tom to watch the Minnesota Vikings game and for me to download several TV shows and movies. 

We carefully tracked our data usage since arriving in Kenya, in an effort to ensure we didn’t leave the country with too much paid-for but unused data. 

We’ve determined, via our recordkeeping that our combined average daily usage is approximately .5 gigabytes resulting in our ability to save enough data for the layover at the Nairobi airport.  Once we arrive in Johannesburg our devices will no longer work containing the Kenya SIM cards.

We’re pleased that in the past month, it wasn’t necessary to purchase additional data by carefully monitoring our usage:  no videos other than downloaded TV shows for our evening entertainment and Tom’s Minnesota Vikings games. Avoiding the download of Facebook videos was most instrumental in us having ample data to get us through this next week. 

Yes, we still may have unused data remaining at the end, which we hope to use to download movies and TV shows.

So, there it is folks.  The process of winding down appears more complicated than it is. It requires careful thought and planning, neither of which is foreign to us.  As we maneuver our way to yet another country in our ongoing quest for exploration and wonder, we can smile, knowing that we’re doing everything we can to make the transition as stress-free as possible.

Part 1, Departure plan in place..Step by step process..Do we always have to be entertained? Yep!

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Printing a boarding pass and tossing our stuff into our luggage to head out the door for the necessary three hours before takeoff, would be the norm in a perfect world. Traveling the world with everything we own is not perfect and, it isn’t quite that easy.

Others may say, “Oh, just do it! Throw it into the bags and just go already!” 

We get that mentality. We do. It’s not simply that both of us are organizers and planners to the point of obsession. It’s purely stress-avoidance, plain and simple.

One could quickly tire of this lifestyle if the stress was caused by one’s lack of desire or interest in planning ahead. Failure to plan ahead leaves too much to chance. Let’s face it, there are plenty of incidents that transpire that we couldn’t have predicted. We save our resources for those, as opposed to the prospect of dealing with issues we could easily have prevented. 

Luckily, we don’t experience stress in the planning process. We both thrive on it finding peace of mind and comfort as we fine-tune each step of the way.

Thus, we won’t be throwing stuff in our suitcases and hitting the road. And, although we’ve yet to pack, a lot of this preparatory work has already been started or is completed. 

Question for today:  How do we entertain ourselves during the long flights?  (More questions follow tomorrow in Part 2)

For us, a big part of the travel time is spent utilizing our technology to keep us entertained resulting in the time passing more quickly while traveling.

With a three and a half hour layover in Nairobi, Kenya after a short flight from Mombasa, Kenya, we knew we needed to plan Internet access and the battery life of our equipment carefully. 

With no space or desire to carry heavy books, we’ve used the Kindle app on our smartphones for reading (for which we don’t need Internet access once the ebook is downloaded at purchase). 

However, with many hours on the various planes on the trip to South Africa, with no power plugins for passengers in economy (we checked), we needed to plan which devices we’ll be using to occupy us during the many hours in the air and during the layovers. 

My newer (cracked screen) Android phone lasts for 7 hours of reading time. My old Android (on which I have the same books) is easier to read without the broken screen. The points where I left off on each book will sync when I go online on both phones simultaneously and select “sync”. But the old phone only lasts for 5 hours of reading time with less for Tom’s Android. 

The end result will be that Tom will run out of reading time during the layover, leaving no remaining power for reading on the plane while I’ll be able to switch to my other phone. 

As always, we have a backup plan in place. During the long layover in Nairobi, we’ll hopefully find a comfy spot to park ourselves, preferably away from the crowds, and use the MiFi’s (we each have one) and our laptops in order to be online. The MiFi charge, usually lasts for 4 hours.

Our computer batteries will last from three to four hours on each of our identical units. Plus, in checking details for the Nairobi airport, it appears that they have various digital equipment stations where one can plug into recharge. Of course, we’ll have our converters and adapters in our computer bags in case we’re able to recharge.

Hopefully, as we wait at the airport in Nairobi, I’ll be online and writing here describing the renovated state from the recent fire on August 7, 2013, and the activity around us. 

Assuming that all goes well and the flights all depart on time, we’ll have another four and a half hours in the air until we arrive in Johannesburg, South Africa. During this period, we’ll read the ebooks with, hopefully, neither of us running out of battery life. 

At the end of the four and a half hour flight, there is a 16-hour layover in Johannesburg. With no desire to wait for that extended period at the airport, we booked a nearby hotel offering a free shuttle back to the airport for one more flight the next morning to Kruger/Mpumalanga. At this point, all of our equipment will be charged which will be less of an issue on the remaining 45-minute flight.

Whew! Once we arrive at the airport in Mpumalanga, a pre-arranged driver will greet us to take us on the 97 km, 60 miles, 75-minute drive to our awaiting house in Marloth Park. At that point, to heck with our equipment.  We’ll be so busy looking out the window, taking photos when possible, and excited to get to our new home for the next three months, we’ll never give battery life a thought.

That is, not until we arrive

At the moment…We’re ready to go…

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Hibiscus blooms, daily in the yard.

It’s 11:30 am Thursday. The humidity is so thick you can see it, although the temperature is a little cooler, instead of yesterday’s high of 99F, 37C, today it may top off at 90F, 32C, providing us with some much-needed relief.

We’re ready to go. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we’re not packed yet. Only a sense of urgency, time being of the essence, will motivate us to begin packing. But, we’re ready to go. 

Bougainvilleas create vines to support the bunches of flowers as they grow heavy.

Living outdoors is not for me. Tom has been more resilient about living outdoors than I, as we’ve spent 16 hours a day living outdoors for the past three months, baring our time on safari, our time on holiday, and when out and about.

This morning while making my tea, a large ant with wings was crawling on my hand. Many months ago, I’d have let out a little shriek throwing my hand into the air to get it off of me. Now, I merely watched it for a moment, flicked it off with my finger, and gave not a thought to where it may have landed. Is this good or bad?

Coconut trees in the yard.

Last night as Tom sat with my feet in his lap, he noticed a hole in my sock commenting, “You should throw those socks away. There’s a hole.”

I laughed, “Are you kidding?  These are the only pair of cotton socks that I have left that cover my ankles to keep the mosquitoes from biting.” 

Our clothes are beginning to wear out. My everyday shoes are worn and misshapen, the shoes I find most comfortable. The four pairs of Clark’s comfy sandals I had brought along no longer feel comfy when my feet are swollen from the heat at the end of the day. 

These look like petunias to me, but I could be wrong. They seem to thrive in the heat.

When we go out to dinner, I no longer want to wear a long dress in order to “look nice.” Instead, I wear the comfy old shoes, not the sandals, this last pair of socks, and the BugsAway clothes which originally allowed for 70 washings, some of which by now down to 55 washings (does it surprise anyone that I count the washings in my head?) for the Permethrin to retain its effectiveness. 

In my old life, in prepping to go out for an evening, I’d easily spend 30 minutes getting ready; the perfect outfit, often changing two or three times if unsatisfied; my makeup, my hair, the matching shoes and purse, the perfect selection of jewelry, striving for what I considered to be the best I could do.  Now, I can be ready in 5 minutes. It just doesn’t matter so much anymore.

I suppose I needed to learn something here. The usefulness of that knowledge escapes me at times. I guess it’s all a part of the bigger picture… change. You can teach an old dog new tricks. 

Simple yellow flowers, always in bloom.

Was it the price I had to pay to fulfill my dream of seeing Africa? If so, I gladly paid. I have no regrets, just an indescribable sense of fulfillment and not-to-sound-egotistical, a bit of awe at both of our resilience in exploring this life and rarely, if ever, complaining to one another, for fear of it catapulting out of control. 

I’m amazed by us: How well we get along together around the clock, never tiring of being together (we never did). How much we’ve changed. In some ways, we were rigid in the past. We continue to make an effort to protect each other from worry (always did with different types of worries now). We continue to share household tasks and travel responsibilities. (That’s new now that Tom isn’t chained to a 12 hour a day “job’).

I know.  As our time winds down, I always roam around the yard looking for vegetation photos to share here.

We’re ready to go. Several times each day, I glance at the lower right-hand corner of the toolbar on my laptop, checking the date, to be reminded once again, how many days until we leave. Today, it’s 9.

We’re ready to go.

Jessie was sticking out her tongue trying to kiss Gucci.  I’ll miss them.

A pleasant respite from the heat…The moon over the Indian Ocean on a windy night…Dinner cost how much?

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A “house” dog is commonly seen at beachfront restaurants to warn of unwelcomed visitors entering the property from the beach and to chase off animals and rodents.

With the seasons reversed south of the equator, it’s spring in Kenya, comparable to warm May in many other parts of the world.  In many tropical regions throughout the world the temperature differences from spring to summer are usually only few degrees.

The beachfront restaurant is simple and unassuming. Sand  crabs are constantly scurrying across the floor.  It’s very dark inside in an effort to conserve on power.

When we arrive in South Africa on December 1st, it will be comparable to June in countries north of the equator with temperatures ranging from 70F to 105F, 21C  to 40C.  Cooler at night as it is here, we’re prepared for the heat in South Africa, hoping the humidity will be less than Diani Beach on the sea.

We’re keeping our fingers crossed that the AC (although not central air) will work well for those extremely hot nights.  We’ve managed the low 90F’s, 32C’s in Kenya without AC but there’s a huge difference at 105F, 40C.

I caught Tom off guard here.  You can see his hair blowing and his shirt blowing open.

Yesterday, with both of us feeling the full effect of the weather at 90F’s, 32C’s, day, we were pleased we’d made our third dinner reservation at the Blue Marlin.  By far, this entirely outdoor restaurant is the coolest thus far and we’ve found the food to be consistently excellent.

The moment we arrived to the Blue Marlin we knew we’d come to the right place.  Situated on the beach with no shades obstructing the ocean breezes (as done in many other restaurants, last night the wind was powerful. We didn’t care.  The cool breeze sucked the humidity off of our skin and clothing in minutes, leaving us refreshed and relaxed. 

I hadn’t felt this cool since we’d spent three nights at the Sands on our mini holiday over our travel anniversary with the air conditioner on all night enabling us to sleep with a blanket on.  In our bed here we have only a seldom used sheet.  I’ve always enjoyed the feel of heavy weight covers.  Ha!  Not here.

The Blue Marlin’s namesake.  It almost doesn’t look real although it is.

It had been two weeks since we’d last dined at Blue Marlin, during a pelting rain storm.  The long walk, including up and down steep stone steps with no handrails, was treacherous during that storm but less so last night in dry weather.

The usual uncomfortable beach chairs at the tables prompted me to ask for a chair with a sturdy back, readily available at other tables.  Our server graciously made the switch and, I was in heaven, never wanting to leave. 

Ah, the simple things.  I don’t recall ever moaning with pleasure over a breeze in our old lives.  From time to time, a cool ocean breezes wafts over us during the day in our outdoor living room.  It never lasts. On each occasion, we both mention it, often wishing it would last longer.  It never does.

Every day, local fisherman bring their catch to the restaurants for sale.  To our surprise there
was never any fresh fish for sale at the Nakumatt grocery store.

Last night, the breeze didn’t stop for a moment.  Had my exquisite piece of fish not been so huge, it may have flown off of my plate.  I held onto the delectable huge portion for dear life. Tom indulged in “chips’ (French fries) and Swahili fish.  I giggled when I saw his “chips” quivering in the wind on his plate.  There was no way he was letting one of those fly off, I assure you!

Snapping a few mindless photos shown here today, having shown similar photos of the Blue Marlin in a previous post, I found myself doing so with a greater attachment to the place.

Arriving at 7:00 pm, we both lolly gagged after eating, wanting to extend the relaxing time a little longer.  By 9:00 pm, knowing that most likely Alfred was waiting in the parking area, we called him to say we were ready to go.  We had warned him we’d be two hours. This time he didn’t call us to ask if we were ready to go.

Our entire bill for dinner including Tom’s two bottles of beer and ice tea for me, including the tax and tip came to a grand total of KES $3200.00, US $37.52.  The taxi was KES $1100, US $12.90, a fixed fee we negotiated with Alfred on our first day in Kenya which covers anywhere we decide to go in Diani Beach.  Of course, in 10 days when we go to the airport in Mombasa, we’ll pay him KES $5000, US $58.62 for the hour long drive and ferry ride.

Tom’s dinner consisted of Swahili, a coconut flavored sauce over the catch of the day. He actually ate a few bites of his veggies.  I always tell him that fried potatoes (referred to here as “chips”) don’t count as a vegetable!

A short drive down the main road and we’d returned to our neighborhood. The guards unlocked the main gate to let us in (they now recognize us and Alfred’s car), with Jeremiah unlocking the gates to our two house compound and we were home.  No breeze.  Too early for bed. Mosquitoes promptly gathering around us.

Rather than complain, we dressed in our BugsAway clothing (our best travel investment to date), hauled out my laptop and watched another episode of Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 6. (It won’t be released in the US until January 2014 but has been available for download, one episode at a time, from Graboid every Monday after it’s been shown on TV in the UK on Sunday nights).

Mindless drivel. We loved every moment as we always do.  Afterward, I called it a night while Tom stayed up with his laptop.  With a good ebook to read on my phone, the respite under the mosquito netting is always comforting.


Look at the size of my fresh caught rainbow fish.  Not a single bone, perfectly cooked in garlic butter with grilled vegetables and a side of homemade mayo.  Superb!

However, changing for bed is not a pleasant experience for me.  The bugs are amped up at night and I often find something on or near my skimpy cotton night clothes.  Last night, after I’d washed my face I used my hanging towel to dry off.  I felt something crunchy on my cheek.  It was a large brown beetle, the same color of the towel, easy to miss. 

This time I did scream and Tom came running.  The beetle had run off.  Gross.  Very gross.  I got that squeamish look on my face, perhaps lasting through the night. 

Yes, I always shake out my clothing and shoes before putting them on and also, my bath towel before drying after a shower.  But now, I’ve added shaking out my bath towel before using it to wipe my hands or face.


The fierce winds moved the dark cloud across the moon.  It was fun to watch the constantly changing appearance.

After that incident, I did my usual “flash light check” of the entire bedroom; corners, walls, ceilings, and under the bed, before climbing in.  One might assume that a full-round mosquito netting protects during the night.  Not the case. “Whatever” may crawl up the legs to the bed, the frame and the headboard to work their way in. Oddly, we are somehow able to sleep through the night.

Don’t think for a moment that these reactions to this huge scary looking insects is exclusively mine.  Tom, too, although braver than I, cringes and gets the freaked out look on his face as well.  Our fear is not the sight of the insect as the potential for a serious injury as a result from a sting or bite with our mutual allergies.

We anxiously waited for the moon’s full reveal as the clouds quickly moved. Notice
a slight reflection on the ocean below.

Then, one may ask, why did we come to Kenya?  We knew about the many risks.  It was all about challenging ourselves. And, as we prepare to leave in 10 days, we don’t have one regret.  The varied experiences, by far, outweigh the bad.  We’ve seen and done that which we’d never have done had we stayed in the US, as “normal” retired folks, moving to a condo in a warm climate.

This morning, Hans stopped by to explain why the security alarms were blaring  at 8:00 am.  Apparently, the neighbors were burning garbage (illegal here but hard to control) and the fire had gotten out of hand.  Luckily, it was promptly put out.  This entire compound had burned to the ground several years ago due to an out-of-control garbage fire.  These thatch roofs rapidly ignite. 


The final review or, as much as we saw in the 2 hours at the Blue Marlin.
Whether it’s concerns over safety, security, insect bites, malaria (we take pills), illness, food poisoning from local restaurants (we only dine at resorts), potential fires, auto accidents (no highway patrol), the risks are many.


Keeping safe has been our primary concern and yes, we may obsess about it from time to time. But 90% of our time, our lives have been enriched by this time in Kenya and…we leave here with great stories to tell and memories we’ll relive over and over again in years to come.

 
 

Not so pretty things…Archaic male and female roles…Dining at the most exquisite resort in Diani Beach…photos, photos and more photos!

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Color at sunset from our outdoor living room.

Loss of water a few nights ago put Tom in a tither when we were preparing to go to the Swahili Beach Resort for dinner. He was mid-shower soaped up from head to toe when suddenly there was no water. Using bottled water he rinsed off as well as possible.  Luckily, awhile later we had water again.


We’d never noticed the amber eyes on these lizards until taking this photo.

Yesterday, in the 90F (32C) weather, humidity visible in the air, I grabbed one of the two wood cutting boards to take outside to chop and dice veggies while sitting at the glass table in our outdoor living room. We were having a Mexican roast beef salad, perfect for a hot evening.  


Tom’s hair still had shampoo in it when the water went off during his shower before we headed out to the Swahili Beach resort for a fabulous dinner, described with photos below.

Often its too hot to stand in the tiny galley kitchen to chop and dice and I’ve often chosen to take it outside.  Placing a clean towel on the table, the cutting board and a sharp knife and I’m good to go.  Keeping a close eye on potential crawling or flying visitors I chop away, jumping up numerous time to place each item in a bag in the refrigerator while I return to do more.

Luckily, I’d showered hours before him.  

As I placed the wooden board on the table to begin chopping, I must admit, I shrieked.  On the board was a no less than 6″ (15 cm) centipede, my nemesis, my most feared crawling thing so far, that inflicts a bite that is not only poisonous but may require a hospital visit and treatment. 


The entrance to the Swahili Beach Resort.

What do I usually do when the insect is horrifying? Call for Tom.  Now, please understand that I’ve always been an independent women, capable of taking care of myself.  For many years, I lived alone in our old lake house (before Tom) after the boys were grown and out on their own. 


If a creature ventured into the house, I took care of it, setting traps if necessary or devising a plan. I was never the “helpless” woman. 


For some odd reason and for the first time in my life, once Tom entered my life over 22 years ago, his loving “take care of my woman” persona became evident, allowing me to lighten up a bit and letting him step in to the rescue.  Mind you, relinquishing this “take charge” attitude didn’t come quickly or easily.  It evolved over these past 22 plus years.


One beautifully appointed lounge area after another at Swahili Beach Resort.

In the past year since leaving the US, I’ve totally let go, letting him be “the man.” Most of my girlfriends will admonish me for this stereotypical, archaic attitude but when it comes to creepy crawling or flying things, heavy lifting and checking out scary noises, I have no problem. 


Every area was decorated with the finest of furnishings.

As for other decisions, well, you know the rest if you’ve been reading many of our posts.  A headstrong, determined “know it all” I’ve forged my way into an equal stance with my equally headstrong, determined “know it all” husband. I often brag (to him) that my method is subtle and diplomatic whereby his method can be pushy and irritable.  In any case, magically, we get along extraordinarily well, seldom ruffling each other’s feathers.

The bar was inviting and comfortable.  We were anxious to get to the buffet
as it neared 8:00 pm.

So, Tom bravely took the wood cutting board from my hands, shook off the centipede to the ground and stomped, crunched, stomped, crunched until it was nothing but a gag inducing mess.  When Hesborn arrived later in the day, I asked him to remove the ugly moist turning moldy cutting boards from this house, never asking for another.  He did.


The walkway toward the pool area. 

I’m sorry I didn’t taken a photo of the centipede on the board.  I had an awful squeamish look on my face for hours and could hardly think of anything else.  Somehow food and centipedes wasn’t a good mix for me.


The walkway over one small arm of the vast swimming pool.

A short time later, Hesborn appeared with what looked like a new cutting board and I jumped for joy.  One only need ask Hesborn or Hans for anything and they happily comply.  Why hadn’t I asked for a new cutting board after fiercely scrubbing and bleaching these two rotting boards day after day?


The dining area by the buffet, although not air conditioned as most restaurants, had a bit of an ocean breeze but was still fairly warm for comfortable dining.

Then, yesterday around 5:00 pm, the power went out.  Within 90 minutes, Hans had the generator working and we were able to prepare dinner as the sun went down.  We dressed in our BugsAway clothing and proceeded to have a lovely evening as usual.


The salad were fresh and cold, many of which I could pile onto my plate.

Also, yesterday, we decided it was time to check out our luggage in preparation for packing, only to discover that the zippers on my single large suitcase was completely corroded from the humidity and salt water air.  It wouldn’t budge.  This was worrisome.  There isn’t a store within hours where we’d be able to purchase a large piece of luggage, nor would time allow for shipping. 



The crab, vegetable and apple salad had no added sugar so I picked out the few chunks of the apple.  The salad on the right containing rice was off limits. 

Asking Hesborn for spray can of lubricant, he quickly darted off, returning minutes later with a can.  Spraying the zipper thoroughly, Tom was unable to get it to work.  Finally, this morning, we asked Hesborn for a pair of pliers, a word he wasn’t familiar with.  I pinched my fingers together to convey the message and he got it, returning only a minute later with pliers.  Now, we were in business! 

The chicken satay were made for me without soy sauce and sugar.

Tom went to work on the zipper with success.  What a relief!  That could have been quite a disaster. Soon, we’ll tackle the packing. It’s been difficult to get motivated in this heat and humidity.

The cooking stations were manned by conscientious cooks catering to my every need. This dish normally made with flour was done so using chicken broth and cream, reduced to a creamy sauce.
The steamed veggies on the left were acceptable but the creamed item on the right was not.  Without the chef’s assistance, this would have been obvious to me.

As for the dining experience on Saturday night, after Tom had removed some of the soap but not all from his hair, we were off for the Swahili Beach Resort.

With 21 restaurants listed and rated on TripAdvisors, one would think choosing where to dine would have been a breeze.  Not the case. With a wide range of reviews ranging from “best dinner ever” to “don’t waste your time” we’re always in a quandary as to where we’ll dine next.


My salad plate.

With a mere 11 days until leaving Kenya coupled with a plan to use our remaining groceries, we expect to dine out less than we’d originally planned.  After counting the possible number of meals remaining in our inventory, its likely we’ll dine out two more times after tonight, when we’ll be returning to Blue Marlin which has had consistently good food. 


My divine plate of food from the Swahili Beach buffet.  That’s not pasta in the red sauce.  It’s grilled calamari, kind of like a squid spaghetti. without noodles.   

With a not-uncommon hit and miss with some of our prior favorites, we’ve decided to repeat those that have been most consistent.  Our previous try-something-new plan has gone by the wayside as we’ve run out of options and most amazingly, time.


This past Saturday as shown in these photos, we tried the Swahili Beach Resort by far, the most luxurious resort we’ve visited thus far with over-the-top service, food and ambiance. Dark when we arrived, we’d wished we’d come earlier to see the amazing décor, the massive infinity pool, the gardens and the beach. 



Watermelon carving seems to be quite the art as we’ve observed in many countries.  Those
are small cuts of cake with mango slices on the plate in front of the carving.

Surprisingly, it too had mixed reviews which may have influenced avoiding it until these last few weeks.  Had we known how wonderful it would be, we would have made it a regular on our list.  For KES $1400, US $16.41 per couple per day, we could have used their pool, if staying for meals. 


The dessert always look appetizing to me but only for viewing.  Tom hasn’t particularly cared for desserts in Kenya since they use less sugar than in the US. Not surprisingly, most of the locals are slim and fit in appearance. 

Impossible to lay outside at this house due to the bugs in the grass, we’ve missed our short stints in the sun which we also found nearly impossible in Tuscany, due to the bees.  Languishing by the pool in Belize was an experience we’ve missed.  Soon, in South Africa, we’ll have our own pool at our house which sun provided, gets us back into a little pool and sunning time.

I felt as if I was back on one of our 8 cruises with a cheese plate in front of me for dessert.

Swahili Beach Resort’s buffet blew us away!  Once I explained my dietary restrictions to the restaurant manager, showing my Swahili translation list on my phone, the head chef proceeded to walk me around the buffet showing me every item that fit my criteria. 

After I’d seen it all, he grabbed a plate for me, staying at my side as we walked from cooking station to station of freshly prepared items, adding food to the plate. 

When we reached the salad area, he grabbed a second plate, piling on more appropriate items, finally carrying my plates back to our table.  Tom, of course, busied himself piling food on his own plate, none of which contained any vegetables, as usual, all of which was off limits to me.  

Tom stood next to this hand carved wood sculpture to illustrate it’s massive size.

It was a memorable evening.  The total bill for our dinner including tip was KES $5300, US $62.13 and the round trip taxi fare, as always, was KES $1100, US $12.90.  The evening was pricier than usual but after the glorious experience, we hardly complained.


Power is back on.  Water is working. Suitcase zipper is working. New cutting board is ready for chopping and dicing for another eight meals and once again, we’re back on track. Will we return to Swahili Beach Resort one more time?  I don’t think so.  I don’t want to spoil the memory.

An extraordinary evening…Out of Africa, the movie, while living in Africa…

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Watching this movie last night had a special meaning for us.

While living in Tuscany, Italy we watched the movie, “Under the Tuscan Sun,” becoming delighted scene after scene of the mention of familiar language, towns foods and customs.  Several years ago, having watched the movie On Demand, Tom read the newspaper in the background, while I drooled over its content.  He referred to it as a “chick flick.” 

Once we were living in Tuscany, we watched it together with a new meaning for both of us.  No longer was Tom grumbling about the “chick flick” factor.  Instead, he was pleasantly surprised by how much we related to its contents.

The replication of the house that Karen Blixen, a writer depicted in her true story, the basis
of the movie.

Isn’t that typical? Having an experience of our own we often find that we become entrenched in a similar experience presented by others; in a story told, a book or a movie.

Last night, this is exactly what transpired for us as we watched yet another timely movie, “Out of Africa,” while sitting in the dark in our outdoor living room munching on nuts, wearing our BugsAway clothing.

The household staff played substantial roles in the movie, as they do here in Kenya in our lives.

I won’t bore you with the romantic storyline of the movie.  Perhaps you too had seen the movie years ago after being released in 1985.  After considerable research this morning, we discovered that none of the film was actually filmed in Africa, although much of the scenery depicted included various parts of the bush, Ngong Hills, the Masai Mara and the Maasi people, all of which according to our experiences, were well represented.  Where the movie was filmed was of little concern to us.

What prompted us to watch the movie, more than anything, was when Anderson, our fabulous guide while on safari in the Masai Mara, pointed out an area that was filmed on site that actually appears in the movie.  And yes, last night, we recognized that very spot, reveling in its familiarity.

Although, when watching a movie we don’t dwell on, “Gee…where was this filmed?”  Instead, we focus of the realistic depiction of a place we may have visited at some point in our lives.  After all, it is a movie: A step outside of our own reality to engage in a compelling story that satisfies our minds and emotions, sufficiently taking us outside of our own lives for a short period of time.  Mission accomplished.


This is the veranda to the house that was built for filming the movie in England. It was only yesterday that Tom and I commented that we’ll have to stop calling “porches, decks and patios” a “veranda” after we’ll arrive in Hawaii, where of course, they’re referred to as the “lanai.”  It was only recently that Tom finally stopped saying “grazie” for thank you, when in fact, “asante” is most appropriate while in Kenya!

But, last night, as while in Tuscany, we found ourselves slapping each other’s knees time and again, in a sheer state of enjoyment as we watched the movie’s details unfold, so much of which has become familiar to us over these past three months living in Kenya, where the movie’s story line occurred.

Particularly, we embraced the representation of the wildlife, the Maasai people, the familiar words in the Swahili language, the traditions and the scenery bringing us back to the glorious safari in the Masai Mara, Kenya, an experience embedded into our hearts and minds forever.

Review of “Out of Africa” by now deceased reviewer Roger Ebert

Music from “Out Of Africa”

Meryl Streep and Robert Redford both played award winning roles in the movie which won the Academy Award that year for the best picture with Meryl winning best actress award.  Redford won as best actor in other awards granted to foreign films.

This link to the Youtube full video of Out of Africa can’t be played here in Africa in order for us to test it, as is the case when we try to connect to certain other websites as the servers detect that we’re in Africa or out of the US.  Please try this link if you’re interested in watching the movie. 

In the event this link doesn’t work for you, it can readily be watched on Netflix, Hulu and others and may also be offered for free from your cable company from Movies on Demand.  There are also numerous websites that offer the full movie at no cost, by using a search engine (such as Google), entering:  Out of Africa video.

As the movie was ending, the battery on my laptop indicated it was running out of juice. Quickly, we moved to the glass table, close to the only electric plugin (using our converter and adapter) in our outdoor living room, as we watched the ending. (No spoiler alert here).

This blurry photo (almost 30 years old) has significance after watching the movie.

Need I say, we loved every moment of this movie as it reminded us over and over as to why we came to Kenya.  As depicted by Meryl Streep in the film, “I had a farm in Africa,”  I was reminded of my own words notched into my memory for as long as I can remember, of “I had a dream of Africa” that now, has finally been realized. 

Never in our wildest dream did we ever believe we’d actually come to Africa.  We pinch ourselves almost daily, hardly believing this is our lives.

Three months from now, we’ll begin packing to head to Morocco.  There’s a movie we’ll be watching after we’ve been in Morocco for awhile, “Casablanca,” a movie we’ll surely watch again, with new eyes, new hearts and new minds.