Rain woke us, prompting a mass scramble from the beach to the relative dry of the truck – good timing for an early breakfast after the hotel turned on the hot showers turned on for us.
Fast driving on great roads brought us to a river/inlet lined with arched mansions shrouded in bright red, orange and pink flowers and a 20-minute ferry ride put us on the other side. Here we saw several women with facial scars, their crows' feet patterns over cheeks and around the first we've seen in some time.
Further south we reached Mombasa, which felt both Arab and Asian. The oldest part of this fascinating city was a maze of narrow alleys lined with mosques, tiny shops, fruit and vegetable stalls overhung with external staircases and balconies with carved balustrades. The main streets were a continuous line of shops selling souvenirs, shoes and fabrics, including lots of kikoys (traditional East African lengths of striped cotton). I changed probably too much money at the bank - no doubt I will spend it easily - and bought three lengths. Not sure who for yet.
Dashed back to the truck in a hot, sweat-lathered quest for a cold drink, winding my way through the old town and along a section of waterfront. Had absolutely no desire to pay the 30 shillings entry fee for Fort de Jesus, historical as it is, but somebody will probably tell me I should have.
From Mombasa we turned right and drove northwest through expanses of sisal plantations, double rows of the fibre crop stretching back from the road in acres of grey green. In the city of Voi we took a fascinating tour through a sisal processing plant - several sheds in which sisal leaves were being cut and washed, fibres and water draining away as a green frothy sludge; dried on racks in the open air, combed and packed into bails. Dust and fine fibres of sisal hung in the air. Some sisal is exported to England and made into clothing that s traded back to Kenya. After seeing all the plants growing it was fascinating to see them transformed into usable fibre.
Continued along the road between the Tsavo East and West parks and then pulled off to camp on a track infested with ticks – unseen "teeth" on our firewood attached themselves to Gary.
Lots of time to think recently. Really want to see my family after being away 12 months and part of me wishes the trip was over but then I want the adventures to continue. All sorts of emotions but the constructive ones won through today. After all, “tomorrow is another day” (as Scarlett O'Hara once famously said).
Captions: Sisal processing
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