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.

Finally! Itinerary gaps filled…Flying to Africa, challenging…Honolulu/Waikiki, here we come…

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Flying from country to country in Africa is no simple task.  Check out this map illustrating the size of the African continent compared to the US and other countries.

Once we’re situated in South Africa, we’ll continue to search for flights as needed, especially the difficult process of finding our way to Morocco three months later. There’s no such thing as a direct flight from South Africa to Marrakesh, Morocco. Most likely we’ll have to stay in a hotel overnight along the way in order to maneuver in that direction. 

Africa is not comparable to the US where you can fly just about anywhere in less than a day with few layovers if any. These maps illustrate the vast distances.

Booking flights is our least favorite form of research. Overall, we’ve found the research for vacation homes most enjoyable and hotels, second, a necessary reality when a vacation home isn’t practical for short stays.

To have finally filled every gap between now and May 15, 2015, we feel a sense of relief.  One may ask, “Is this when it all ends?” Nope. This is as far out as one can get a commitment for a booking for most vacation homes, most cruises, all flights (330 days or less for bookings), and many hotels.

Over the past few days, in the hopes of freeing our time to begin packing to leave two weeks from today, we wanted the peace of mind knowing that we’d filled the remaining gaps: Honolulu, Hawaii, USA, October 5 to October 16, 2014, a mere 11 months away and, Boston, Massachusetts, USA from September 14 to September 17, 2014, only 10 months from now.

Today, we’ll share the details of our find in Honolulu and tomorrow, Boston, which in itself presented a few challenges based on our needs at that time.

Here is the link to our 11 night rental in Waikiki.  Need I say, we’re thrilled and relieved to have found exactly what we were seeking, at the best possible price, in an ideal location convenient to everything. (These vacation home websites don’t allow photos to be copied making it necessary to follow the link to see the photos).

Researching Honolulu/Waikiki was brutal. Prices are through the roof, especially when including the 13.5% rental tax, resort fees, and in some cases, fees paid to the company listing the property. What started at US $185 a night (it was higher than listed on their site, due to time of the year), the price we paid for our selection, ended up at almost US $200 a night.

The owner of this ocean-view condo has been fabulous to work with so far and based on the reviews we’ve read, that will continue to be the case throughout the rental period. 

With our rigid criteria of having an ocean view, laundry facilities, free WiFi, a lanai, close to buses for sightseeing and dining, the search was frustrating. Most properties with a view were much more expensive. As we were just about ready to bite the bullet and pay more, we stumbled across this property by leaving HomeAway to search this other well-known listing site, AirBNB that we’d casually perused in the past.

Minus a few glitches we experienced in the booking process late last night, we were able to work it out. The time difference between Hawaii and Kenya is 13 hours. Waiting until after we returned after dinner last night made it possible for us to communicate directly with the owner, as he was waking up (on the same day) to assist us in fine-tuning the details. 

The rental is paid in full and we don’t have to give it another thought until the time nears, and we’ll need access information.  Most likely we’ll make those arrangements during our cruise to Hawaii from Vancouver, BC arrives in Honolulu on October 5, 2014. Ah, relief.

Tonight, we’re trying a new-to-us restaurant for dinner at the upscale Swahili Beach Resort.  They’re having their usual Saturday night buffet of local favorites. If the food isn’t great, as it wasn’t last night at another popular resort, the company will be extraordinary as usual.

Counting our remaining supplies…Prepping to leave…No wastefulness here…Our food costs in Kenya for three months…

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We’re not as tidy as we used to be but there is no cupboard space for food. None of these items will be packed to travel with us. “Use ’em or “lose em.”

In a perfect world, we could pack up our equipment, clothing, and toiletries and hit the road in 15 days.  It is not that easy.  If money didn’t matter, it would be less of a concern. We’d “pack and go” leaving food and household supplies behind without a thought.

Money does matter and using up our supplies makes economical sense. Gosh, if money didn’t matter, we’d have a strong, competent helper traveling with us to pack, carry our bags with nary a thought of excess baggage fees.  In a perfect world.

Here we are, 15 days and counting until we board a plane for the necessary two days of travel to get us to Mpumalanga, South Africa. (It took us a minute to figure out how to pronounce that, “Puma, Langa”). 

As time flies at this late date, we begin to access our supplies, determining what to keep, what to toss, and what to give away. One biggest consideration is our remaining food.

In an effort to live as “normal” a life as possible everywhere we go we purchase basic foodstuffs and household supplies.  You know, all the food in the cupboards and on the door in the refrigerator plus paper supplies (baggies, paper towels, toilet paper, parchment), insect repellents (for body and air), bar soaps, etc.

We’ve discovered that approximately halfway through any of our extended stays, we begin to take note of what we need to use up before departing. Our lifestyle allows for no wastefulness, nor do the countries in which we live. Cautious use of power, water, and the accumulation of trash are a big concern for all of us in today’s world.  We’ve especially conserved power and water with the many outages over these past months.

Our budget is fixed and we make every effort to maintain the integrity of its intent. We have no allowances for wastefulness.  If I use a zip lock bag for a chunk of cheese, if it smells good when empty, I store it on the door of the refrigerator for one more use. 

When we order ebooks, we choose a few from the thousands of “free” ebooks to offset the cost of purchasing one for US $8.95, in order to bring the average cost down to US $3.00 each. Thank goodness we have no books to pack!

 
This is our tiny freezer.  We’ll easily use what we have on hand before we leave, unlikely purchasing any more frozen meat. We eat nuts for dessert every night. Tom likes peanuts and I prefer raw macadamia, almonds, and cashews, all locally grown. Keeping as much as we can fit in the freezer prevents the possibility of monkeys raiding the kitchen.

In our old lives, if a tee shirt had a stain, I would either try to get the stain out entirely or toss it. Not the case now. We save those for our “staying in” days, wearing nicer clothing when we leave the house. No longer can I jump in the car to drive to Old Navy to buy another batch of tee shirts for each of us.

Paper towels are flimsy in Kenya and still, I use one sheet at a time compared to my prior flippant use of sturdy paper towels. Tissues and toilet paper are equally flimsy but, we’re grateful to have any, using it sparingly. 

This morning we began counting the remaining nights we’ll dine in while checking our remaining supply of meat in the freezer and the food in the tiny fridge. 

With one more necessary trip to the grocery store to purchase water, cheese, nuts, and insect repellent, we’re contemplating the value of dining out for all of our dinners during the final week of November.  This morning, I calculated the cost of purchasing more “dinner” food as opposed to dining out (calculated through our final day here) in order to make a determination:

US $4500.00-Combined grocery and dining out budget for the entire three months in Kenya

US $184.46-Average weekly grocery expense x 12 weeks=US $2213.52

US $129.06-Average weekly dining out expense x 12 weeks=US $1548.67
(calculating an average of 3x per week, including the 6 days for the final week)

US $3762.19-Total food and dining out the expenses for the full 12 weeks

US $737.81- Unused balance remaining in the food budget, which in our minds,  covers the cost of our three day anniversary stay at the Diani Beach resort from October 29 to November 1, 2013. (We actually knew before we booked the resort that we’d have extra funds in our food allowance that would cover the resort expense).

The top of the tiny refrigerator has been used as a cupboard.  Spices are only available in these large containers. The enchilada sauce has no wheat or sugar. The local grocery store Nakumatt has some surprising ingredients, but is lacking in many familiar items for which we’ve learned to improvise, no longer giving it a thought. 

As a result of these calculations, we’ve decided to dine out each of the final six nights in Kenya while using the remaining food we have on hand, adding veggies from the produce stand on the road as needed. Any remaining food and household supplies will be given to Hesborn and Jeremiah (along with the last of the three months of divided tips we’ve given to each of them at the end of every month).

Now, back to the frustrating search for 11 nights in a hotel in Honolulu. Hopefully, we’ll have this resolved in the next few days to free us to begin the process of packing our boxes to be shipped to South Africa and the no-longer-overweight luggage we’ll be bringing aboard the plane.

Of course, at the end of our stay, we’ll share our total living costs in Kenya for the three full months, including the cost of our safari which by far was the best money we’ve spent so far!

Scary incident while out last night….Four guys, a driver and us…

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Tom likes Tusker beer, a local brew, usually at KES $300, US $3.52, per liter when ordered at a bar or in a restaurant. What’s with that look on his face?

Dining out on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays have been an excellent balance for us. Overall, the food has been good, the service consistently good and the ambiance in most cases, ideal with most resorts located on the Indian Ocean.

The cool ocean breezes with fewer mosquitoes with the strong breezes (in most cases) and with someone else doing the cooking and cleanup dining out has been a welcomed relief, spaced out for these specific days of the week.

Last night, before the power, went out at The Cave.

Yesterday, we’d decided to give Ali Barbour’s The Cave Restaurant another try after a first mediocre meal in September, shortly after we’d arrived at Diani Beach. Last night’s meal was hardly disappointing, pleasantly surprising both of us with well seasoned, beautifully presented, and delicious meals. 

My dinner ranked in the top three on my list of favorite meals in Kenya. Tom, “Mr. Meat and Potatoes” was also pleased with his meal. Definitely requiring one more return to The Cave in our remaining 17 days before leaving on November 30th. 

The Cave, after the power went out which came back on promptly after the generators were started.

True to our expectations as described in yesterday’s post, we didn’t receive our drinks until 15 minutes after being seated and we waited no less than 30 minutes after requesting our bill. The restaurant was busy. We waited patiently. 

The power had gone out twice during our dinner to be restored within a few minutes by the use of a generator. It’s not unusual for the power to go out in Kenya. We didn’t flinch.

Our bill after tipping the server came to a total of KES $4600, US $54.51 with a remaining tip to pay for the shuttle driver that had picked us up (20 minutes earlier than planned) and would be returning us home.

The fresh flowers at the base of the lantern at our table.

Walking up the uneven stone steps to the reception area, we found four other patrons awaiting a ride, a group of male 20 somethings who’d apparently had a good time based on their loud banter and pushy behavior. 

Speaking in a language we didn’t understand, it was obvious they were annoyed with having to wait for a few minutes for the shuttle driver to return from another drop-off. Tom and I had seen these four guys only minutes earlier in the dining area. They couldn’t have been waiting for more than five minutes.

Sitting in the living-room-like reception area, all facing one another, Tom and I were prepared for a wait. The Maasai restaurant greeter also sat in this area trying to appease the four impatient guests as they obviously grumbled over a potentially short wait. 

Tom’s dinner of Beef Stroganoff (no noodles), fries, and ketchup.  Yep, he ate the bread in the basket to which I made no comment or facial expression.

Within two minutes of sitting down, they instructed the Maasai greeter to call them a taxi. He made the call explaining the taxi would arrive in five minutes Apparently, they spoke English. They had chosen to forgo the complimentary shuttle to bring them back to their hotel.

We both thought, “Oh, good. When the driver returns, he can take us.” In less than a minute, the shuttle driver returned and the Maasai greeter explained in Swahili that the four guys had requested a taxi. The shuttle driver motioned to us to get into the awaiting van, as he opened the sliding door. We complied.

Bolting out of the parking lot in an obvious hurry, we flew down the long bumpy road from the ocean to the highway, as we heard the driver talking on his cell phone. Almost at the highway on the narrow road, with no place to turn around, the driver, not saying a word to us, began driving backward to return to the restaurant. 

This is the protein portion of my dinner, a shrimp cocktail on a bed of crisp cabbage. It was the best shrimp cocktail I’ve had in years.  The veggie portion of my dinner is in the below photo.

I must admit, he drove well going backward such a long distance on the bumpy narrow road.  Had it been me in such a hurry, I’d have been all over the road driving backward. Tom would have done as well as him.

We assumed that the driver was called to return to the restaurant to pick up other guests when, in fact, the four guys had decided they didn’t want to wait a couple more minutes for the “already on its way” taxi. This obviously infuriated the driver, who began apologizing to us to which we both said, “hakuna matata” which translates to “no problem or no worry” in English.

The four guys piled into the van requiring Tom to get out to let them in the back seats. I stayed put, suddenly feeling a need to put my seat belt on. The driver was speaking to the four guys in both Swahili and English explaining that “you can’t cancel a taxi after it’s on its way. You still have to pay.”

This grilled veggie platter was heavenly, cooked to perfection, seasoned with local spice, and grilled with a light glaze of olive oil and butter.  The white rectangles are slices of imported Parmesan cheese.  What a meal!  I ate every morsel of both dishes.

The four guys didn’t respond well to his comments as the driver continued to explain that they’d still have to pay the taxi, giving him the money to bring back to the taxi driver in the amount of KES $500, US $5.86. They refused. They all became very irritated.

At this point the driver turned around, as he’s driving down the unlit main road at a high speed, asking us if it was OK if he dropped the four guys off first and then head to our house. Again, we said, “hakuna matata.”  Again, he thanked us profusely.

The chatter back and forth escalated during the 10-minute drive to the hostel (not hotel) where the four guys were staying. Once arriving at the hostel, the van driver insisted they pay the 500 schillings, and again, they refused, saying they’d pay KES $300, US $3.52. They exited the van, loudly grumbling with tempers flaring. 

The van driver explained that he’d have to pay the taxi driver for him taking his fare by van, instead of using the ordered taxi. We didn’t blame him for his frustration. What a bunch of jerks!

This is Tom’s foot next to the largest semi-poisonous millipede we’ve seen since arriving in Kenya. Tom with his frequent verbal slips continually refers to these common creatures as “minipedes.” Not so mini, Tom Lyman. He scooped it into the dustpan placing it back into the yard. It will be back. Can you imagine stepping on that in bare feet during the night? Is it any wonder that I put my moccasins in the bed with me?

During this period, with the multiple language barriers and Tom’s hard of hearing issues (after 42 years on the railroad), he had a hard time determining what was transpiring, other than the visual on the angry driver and the four guys. 

It was clear enough to me. My concern escalated along with their tempers. Was a fight about to break out? Was someone going to pull a knife or a gun? We were trapped in the vehicle. I recalled that after we’d arrived at the restaurant, that the door to the van could only be opened from the outside after we tried to open it several times from the inside. 

Again, in a flash, the driver turned to us apologizing. This time, we didn’t say “hakuna matata.”  Instead, Tom said, “Let’s go,” in a non-threatening manner. Hesitating for a moment, the driver weighed his options, either stay and turn this into a nightmare or, leave. We waited for his decision. He looked from the guys, to us in the back seat and made a decision. 

He left, speeding crazily down the bumpy dirt road back to the main road.

Sighing a sigh of relief, we were ecstatic to be on our way, although his angry driving made us wonder if we’d make it back in one piece. Again, a sigh of relief, escaped my breath, as we approached our first security gate and then our second where Jeremiah, our guard, waited for us unlocking the gate and letting us in.

Finally back in our outdoor living room at 10:00 pm, Jessie and Gucci at our sides, I decided to go to bed. With the days of rain last week, the mosquito population was over the top and I hardly felt like changing into my BugsAway clothing. Then, Tom spotted this giant “minipede” (actually a millipede), scooping it up, placing it back in the yard. (See above photo).

The comfort and safety of the mosquito netting around the bed, the overhead fan, and a new book downloaded to my smartphone, I was content to call it a day. Tom, on the other hand, quickly changed into his BugsAway clothing, grabbed his laptop to stay outside for another hour.

My last thought before tucking my phone and my flashlight under my pillow and nodding off, “Whew!

Kenya…It’s people…It’s differences…

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The recent rain has resulted in the new blooms in our yard.

Living in the US all of our lives and now in Africa for almost three months, we aren’t surprised by the differences in lifestyles. Africa, as we all know is a huge continent with numerous countries, each comparable to the uniqueness of each of the “states” in the US, each possessing their own customs, dialects, traditions, and persona.

From what we’ve learned in this relatively short time in Kenya (spelled Kenia by locals), the country many qualities we find refreshing and appealing. With 18 days remaining until we leave Kenya, we’ve certainly spent more time here than most tourists visiting during a typical two week holiday. (The word vacation is rarely used in many parts of the world, instead referred to as a “holiday”).

Green and lush vegetation surround us.

Life moves at a slower pace, as is typical in most parts of the world, as opposed to the frenzied pace in the US.  One can sit at a table in a restaurant awaiting a cocktail for 10 or 15 minutes. In most cases, the bill (the check) doesn’t magically appear at the end of the meal when our plates are clean and we’ve turned down dessert and after-dinner drinks, coffee, or tea. One must ask for it. Then it may not arrive for another 10 or 15 minutes.

Patience.  It’s a must.  We learned this early on in our travels. Kindness. Also a must. Annoyance and irritation must not be evident. In time, one doesn’t feel it. On occasion, it may be difficult to hide. 

These delicate flowers are as thin as tissue paper.

Locals in Kenya are friendly, much more than we’ve seen in other parts of the world. People walking past us as we walk along the road, always say, “hujambo” or “jambo” as a greeting. We reply in kind. 

There’s an expectation here of a gentle request for assistance. There’s a look of shock on the face of a local if a customer is not satisfied. We’ve learned that it’s not worth squabbling over a small error on a bill. Of course, they’d make the correction but the confrontation is unbearable for them. 

We’ve chosen not to address an error unless it is for a considerable amount which as of yet has never happened. Most often, it’s accurate, more so than we’d seen in our old lives. 

Buds are bursting now after the rain. Hopefully, we’ll see the flowers in full bloom before we leave in 18 days.

They cooperate. They want to please. They are humble. They work hard. Their work ethic is profound. They help one another and outsiders alike. They smile revealing the brightest straightest white teeth, we’ve ever seen. 

Yes, it’s can be dangerous here. It’s evidenced by the tight security which has been beefed up recently after the horrifying attacks at the mall in Nairobi. We have a guard exclusively for these two houses, ours and Hans’ and Jeri’s from sunset to sunrise, seven days a week. Hesborn is here around the clock, a strong, conscientious employee of Hans’ for 14 years. 

There are guards 24-hours a day at the locked entrance gates to this neighborhood for the perhaps 10 private homes, each of which is gated in itself as well. Everywhere we go, there are security guards; at the entrance to the strip mall where we shop, at the ATM machine at Barclay’s Bank, where we get cash, at the entrance to the Safaricom store where we purchase “scratch-offs” to top off our data SIM cards.

Pretty little flowers, many I’ve never seen.

It’s an oxymoron. Safe and not safe, making it easy for one to get careless. But, not us. Carelessness is not for us.

And then, there’s the taxi situation which is unique in itself. We’ve learned not to call Alfred until a half-hour prior to the time we’d like a ride. Otherwise, he’ll always appear way too early in an attempt to please. On only a few occasions another driver appeared in his place when he was too far away to get to us on time.

Most often, after dropping us off the restaurant, he waits in his car while we dine, his choice, not our request.  As soon as we realized this after we first arrived, we decided not to let his waiting us affect our dinner or the time we may choose to spend before or after. 

The variety of colors are appealing to the eye.

We call him when we’re ready to go.  If he gets another call while waiting for us, surely he can go.  If he’s far away when we call to say we’re ready to leave we’ll gladly wait.  Most often the wait is less than 15 minutes.

Once he was late to take us grocery shopping. After waiting for over 30 minutes, we called. He’d fallen asleep in his car. It was OK. We weren’t bothered in the least. If it had been a dinner reservation, we still wouldn’t have been bothered. No one would mind if we were late for our reservation. They’d kindly seat us anyway, making no mention of our tardiness or the possible loss of our table. 

The most unusual aspect of our taxi experience, that surely would annoy most patrons, is the fact if we take a long time having dinner, Alfred calls us (on the local phone Hans loaned us for our time here) asking when we’ll be ready to go.  We always laugh when this happens. If we’ve had our dinner, we ask for the bill and move along to accommodate Alfred. It’s cooperation, a common aspect of life in Kenya.

Alfred grocery shops at Nakumatt also. He has a plastic card that provides him with points in order to get money off future grocery purchases. On our second trip to Nakumatt, he handed us his blue card, asking us to give him the points for our purchases. We did. Now, we ask him for the card each time if he’s distracted by security when he drops us off at the store. He waits for us there also, parking across the street, waiting for our call. 

All of these flowers are in abundance in the area, thriving in the heat, humidity, and soaking rains.

He has a newer car with AC.  He never turns the AC on.  We don’t ask.  We open the windows, although it results in extremely hot air blowing in our faces. Early on, we negotiated with Alfred for KES $1000, US $11.72 round trip wherever we may go in Diani Beach, as much as a 20-minute drive one way and other times only a drive of one or two minutes. We pay the same amount wherever we go.

Taxi drivers in Kenya don’t usually receive tips, as explained to us by Jeri who is from Nairobi. But, we give him tips, varying from KES $100 to $500 depending on how long the drive. He’s appreciative.

These pods have continued to dry out. 

Aside from the many great experiences we’ve had in Kenya, we’ll always remember the simple lifestyle and its people. Although we’re never sad to leave one location to travel to another, we treasure the memories we’ll carry in our hearts and minds forever. Thank you people of Kenya. Asante.

Last night’s unusual dining experience…Poisonous puffer fish?? Tom’s ruffled feathers…

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I would’ve loved to try the pufferfish (click to see NG’s pufferfish video), a deadly poisonous fish if not cleaned properly, but I passed since it was flour battered and fried. “Chips” in Kenya translates to French fries, not potato chips, which Tom promptly figured out.

With approximately 26 hotels/resorts along a 10.2 km (6.34 miles) stretch of beach across the road, there are plenty of dining options for our planned three dinners out per week.  We’ve tried many so far, with nine more dinners out to go until we leave Kenya on November 30th.

It’s a little surprising to us that we’re running out of repeat options.  The issues primarily revolve around Tom’s picky taste buds than my restricted way of eating. A decent piece of grilled fish, chicken or beef, a side of veggies and I’m content.  Tom, on the other hand, is a much more particular diner, although he’s willingly tried many new items in the past year. 

Much to my liking, many meals in Kenya are vegetable-based included eggplant, zucchini, cauliflower, carrots, and broccoli, all of which I can have. Unfortunately, many of the vegetable dishes are made with rice or flour, neither of which I can have.Tom only eats carrots and green beans. Thus, dining out is not always as easy as it may seem.
The entrance at the Baobab Resort and Spa. The white carving on the left of this appears out of place when in fact it was a post that was included in the photo. 

Last night we tried another resort new to us, Baobab Beach Resort and Spa, as we’ve made a point of doing as often as possible.\Oddly, few local residents dine at any of the resort’s restaurants. Each time our driver pulls up to the security gate at one of the resorts, the guards look inside the vehicle checking us out, asking why we’re there. 

When we explained that we have a dinner reservation, they looked surprised. Of course, we appreciate their conscientious “guarding” of each property. Most diners are hotel guests of the resort rather than “outsiders” like us.

Having made a reservation for last night’s dinner on Monday, receiving an email confirmation as required to get beyond the gates, we felt confident that our arrival would be welcomed and seamless. Last night, it was quite different than with past reservations.

The resort lobby had multiple lounging areas.  Crooked lamp shade.

After going through two guarded gates, Alfred dropped us off at the main entrance to the resort as the well-dressed security guard greeted us with the often-used enthusiastic “hujambo” (“hello”, the “h” is not pronounced); “karibu” (welcome) to which we responded, “hujambo” and “asante” (thank you). When explaining we were there for dinner only. He referred us to the registration desk. 

We explained that we were there for dinner, but the staff person couldn’t find our name in the system. Stymied, again, we explained we were not staying at the resort, but had a dinner reservation. 

The décor in many resorts is similar leaning toward somewhat of a Moroccan theme.

Then, he asked for written proof of our reservation. Although we always carry our passports and ID when going out, we’ve never been asked to provide written proof for a dinner reservation. The thought of digging out our travel printer for dinner reservations has never occurred to us.

After no less than 15 minutes while waiting at the desk with various staff members speaking to one another in Swahili, we were told that the only dining option was for the buffet, at KES $2000, US $23.45 per person, must be paid now at the reservations desk in advance. We’d never heard of such a thing. 

Preferring not to make a scene, plus with our driver already gone and with no other immediate dining options, Tom pulled out a credit card and paid the KES $4000, US $46.89 which included all fees and taxes (not tips).

The dining room at Baobab Beach Resort and Spa.

Upon signing the slip, the staff member explained that the buffet dinner included basic bar drinks and soda. I wondered why none of this was explained at the time of making the reservation; the price, the fact that it was a buffet, paying at the desk in advance and the drinks being included. Had that been the case, we would have been prepared, still keeping the reservation. 

Apparently, like an all-inclusive resort they were ill-prepared for “outsiders.” Surely, we couldn’t have been the first outsiders ever to arrive for dinner. It wasn’t that they weren’t kind and willing to assist. They just didn’t seem to know what to do with us.

Tom’s feathers were ruffled (although he kept it to himself) especially when we’d arrived early, thanks to Alfred’s substitute driver’s showing up 45 minutes prior to our requested pick-up time. We were told we’d be escorted to the restaurant when it opened in 15 minutes. 

When no one arrived to escort us, we headed to the restaurant on our own finding an excellent table for two by a window in order to take advantage of the ocean breezes. It was still very hot and we were both wearing long sleeves. Bugs? Heat? It’s often a trade-off.

Tom’s ruffled feathers.

From that point on, our evening was pleasant. By far, it was the greatest number of diners we’ve yet to see in any restaurant over these past months, most of which were European, based on the languages we heard spoken. 

At no time during our evening did we hear anyone speaking English, other than the Swahili speaking servers who were able to handle basic requests. We’ve often wondered if tourists from the US and Canada find this location too far to travel. After all, it is almost halfway around the world, further time-wise to travel than most people are willing.

The servers promptly brought our drinks, a beer for Tom, and bottled water for me (no ice tea available) and we headed to the massive buffet. With my smartphone with the still-cracked screen, I displayed the screen below with the Swahili translation for my food restrictions which has been extraordinarily useful. There were no lengthy lines at the buffet, although the area was filled with diners at the numerous food stations.

Basically, this boils down to the fact that I can have fish, chicken, pork, beef and non-starchy vegetables, nuts and mayo (the mayonnaise we’ve found here is made without sugar). No soy, no gluten, no starch, no sugary sauces, no potatoes,  no rice, no beans, and no desserts.   

As is often the case, the main chef is summoned, reads the list, nods in understanding, directing me to the foods that are acceptable. It’s actually easy. Of all the foods offered last night, I was able to have approximately 25% with many variations of grilled, sautéed, and steamed vegetables and a wide array of grilled meats, fish, lamb, and chicken.

My plate of coleslaw without dressing was cold and refreshing.

Much to Tom’s pleasure, he was able to have roast beef and mashed potatoes, although he tried several other offerings. (He eats whatever he wants when we eat out since I do all the cooking my way when we dine in). He feels well and isn’t gaining weight.  Of course, I’d love for him to stick with my way of eating all the time.  

Finally, many months ago I gave up staring at his plate of food, giving him the evil eye, and making less than subtle comments such as, “Are you really going to eat that?”  Now I say nor imply anything derogatory about his food choices when we dine out when he doesn’t complain about my healthful cooking when we dine in.

I was thrilled with this huge plate of food by the time we started eating, close to 8:30 pm.

Will we go back to Baobab?  Yes, we will now that we know “the drill.” The food was very good, the choices many and the ambiance and service were both good.

Tonight and tomorrow nights we’ll dine in. Extremely hot and humid again, a cold dinner is on the menu for both nights, our favorite subway type unwich, sandwich using lettuce leaves instead of bread, a side of fresh green beans, our usual coleslaw, and nuts for dessert. 

Although I couldn’t have this rice salad, I loved the presentation.
Tom visited the dessert bar for a few items, but of course, I just took a photo. It was early in the evening, the buffet not opening until 7:30 pm, and the dessert table was already being restocked.

Bringing up another great episode of The Blacklist on my laptop for a typical Sunday night here in Kenya, we began batting off the creepy crawlies, swatting off the mosquitoes and flying ants and, using our flashlights to check for poisonous crustaceans in every crevice or corner before we go to bed. 

But…dear readers, we’re content. 

The long hallways were lined with these lounging beds.  After dinner, they were filled with overstuffed guests, sipping on after dinner drinks.  Tom insisted on a photo after I’d shot his grumpy pose.  I complied.

Three weeks from today…Off we go again!…We’ve only just begun…A typical Saturday morning in Kenya with animals in the yard…

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Look at those “bedroom eyes!” This was shot without zoom when I visited the goats in the backyard this morning. I was afraid to move in order to get a better shot. Sudden movements cause them to skitter off.

This morning this song was running through my head. When I mentioned it to Tom, he immediately found the YouTube video while I researched the lyrics. Tom, with his cup of hot coffee (yes, we have power) and me with my hot tea, sitting at the big glass table in our outdoor living room, are loving the sunny day after another night of pouring rain.

Each day as I write the post for the day, Tom is only a few feet from me. We share the process, me, writing,him, researching, us…talking, during the entire process. Never am I alone in a corner, typing away. It’s a tremendously enjoyable shared experience.

The babies were more curious about me. Most of the others, not so much.

Once completed and posted, Tom proofreads from the perspective of a reader looking for possible errors. He usually finds several which I promptly correct. We easily miss other errors as well, mostly those that spellcheck interprets as acceptable, some a result of our simply missing it. We don’t worry about it. We have a story to tell, photos to share, and writing every day means we’re going to miss some.

So, today, our story reminds us of this song, released in the summer of 1970, 43 years ago, a busy year for Tom, the year he graduated high school, the year he started working on the railroad, the year daughter Tammy was born.

Dad or utter? I say Dad. Tom says utter. Any input?

We didn’t meet until 21 years later, in 1991, each divorced with grown kids, ready to embark on a new life together.This song rang true for us in 1991 and is befitting again in our lives today. We’re sure many of our readers will remember and relate to this song as well.



We’ve Only Just Begun (video link)

by the Carpenters

We’ve Only Just Begun Lyrics

Songwriters: NICHOLS, ROGER S. / WILLIAMS, PAUL H.
We’ve only just begun to liveWhite lace and promises

A kiss for luck and we’re on our way

We’ve only begun

Before the rising sun we fly

So many roads to choose

We start out walking

And learn to run

And yes! We’ve just begun

Sharin’ horizons that are new to us

Watchin’ the signs along the way

Talkin’ it over just the two of us

Workin’ together day to day, together

And when the evening comes we smile

So much of life ahead

We’ll find a place where there’s room to grow

And yes! We’ve just begun

Sharin’ horizons that are new to us

Watchin’ the signs along the way

Talkin’ it over just the two of us

Workin’ together day to day, together, together

And when the evening comes we smile

So much of life ahead

We’ll find a place where there’s room to grow

And yes! We’ve just begun

In a perfect world, a few days before departing we’d start packing. Although the world is quite amazing, it’s not perfect. This is about the time we start thinking “packing.” 

One might think it’s no big deal. Fold the clothes, throw in the shoes, and miscellaneous items, and be done. Not so fast! Virtually, every physical item we own is in our possession!

Determined not to pay excess baggage fees this time, we’ve made a plan. When grocery shopping at the local Nakumatt the customer’s items are packed into cardboard boxes which we’ve been saving these past several trips.

When we grocery shopped yesterday, Alfred pointed out the local post office, which we’ll use to ship the packed cardboard boxes to our new home in South Africa, which will be a huge portion of our stuff, to ensure we don’t get slapped with excess baggage fees this time. 

This goat was definitely not camera-shy, practically stepping on my foot as she approached.

The risk of our belongings being confiscated or stolen is high. We’ll insure it, and let the chips fall where they may. By primarily packing clothing and shoes, if it is “lost” it won’t be anything we can’t live without. The cost of shipping within Africa will be considerably less than excess baggage fees between continents. Of course, we’ll send it the slowest possible way which we speculate we’ll receive the boxes within a month of our arrival.

All of our safari clothing, hats, and boots, everyday clothing, shoes, electronics, prescriptions, everyday toiletries will be in our possession. Our goal is to ship everything else to South Africa a week before we leave Kenya, in the event, it arrives quicker than anticipated. We’re able to receive packages at our new home much to our delight.

Mother and kid.

In the past, I’ve started sorting and packing at about this point. But, I’ve changed my mind, preferring to continue to enjoy our time here, to begin the process a few days prior to the trip to the post office. 

This is one more example in my own mind of “letting go,” of always working hard to be done with tasks way before it is necessary. Chill. The new me. It’s this same “freedom” mentality that allows us to not necessarily have everything booked more than a year in advance.

Many laughed at our pre-planning two-plus years in advance, imagining we were limiting ourselves by committing out that far. But, leaving our home, our family, our friends, and everything we knew and loved behind was a monumental undertaking. 

After days of rain, the flowers are blooming.

Many embarking on years of world travel have a storage facility or condo somewhere for peace of mind. Not us. 

Planning the first few years gave us a sense of comfort and peace of mind. Now, with a number of holes in our itinerary over the next 18 months (as far out as we’re booked so far) we no longer need the reassurance that we have a “home” in place for every single day of our travels. 

At this point, our motivation to book travel arrangements well in advance is predicated by how fast properties, flights, and cruises are booking up. At that point, we don’t hesitate in locking in locations and times.

Beyond, May 2015 when we leave Kauai, Hawaii, after having spent time visiting many of the Hawaiian Islands with hopefully lots of whale watching, our upcoming time is free. 

We’re considering many options that appeal to us in order to take us on our chosen path for our love of nature and wildlife. With continued good health, we have no desire or plans to stop. After all, we have only just begun.