The band of crazies

January 19, 2016

Early 2014, I was in the process of planning an epic backpacking trip that started at the end of February. Thankfully I got all the visas I needed - and it was a wonderful 2 months in South America. Life as a Kenyan traveler is not always easy:-)

As I planned this epic 2 month adventure, it reminded me that I need to document all that happened on another backpacking trip I did with friends in end of 2012. It was overambitious, it was hectic, it was fun! We went to 12 European countries in 6 weeks. The funny thing is that we actually cut out some countries a few hours before we left Kenya because most of us only had single-entry Schengen visas - meaning if we left the Schengen area we would not be able to get back in. We bid a sad farewell to Romania, Bulgaria and Croatia. The countries that remained in our itinerary were as follows - Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, Slovakia, Slovenia, Denmark, France, Spain, Switzerland, Italy and Netherlands.

Obviously when planning such a trip - one thing is key - you have to go with the right people. I love all my friends and family, but I am sure there are some people I would throw off a cliff in Hungary if I had to spend 6 weeks traveling with. 6 weeks of intense travel, close living quarters and communal tasks can either bring out the best or the worst in people. I have to say that the team we had was perfect!

For the sake of anonymity, I will give everyone in merry band of travelers a pseudonym. In total there was 6 of us. The first traveler, we will call "The Reluctant". The girl is reluctant at first, but when push comes to shove, she will get into the game. She is the type of girl who really wants to take that shot, but worries that she might get drunk and act silly. Thankfully by the end of the trip "The Reluctant" was cured of such worries that polite society places on us. The second traveler we will refer to as "The BARacuda". This name suits her best given her ability to always find the best bar wherever we were. She would sniff a bit, lick her finger and stick it out in the air and say "There! That basement. I can tell there is a fun club there." Her formula worked everywhere including in a random street in Bratislava, different parts of Budapest, quieter streets of Munich. This girl has a club radar! The third member of our merry band will henceforth be known as "The Little Toe." My cousin always tells us this story of how you are walking, and all your toes are apparently meant to be attentive to what the plan is - just keep moving forward - follow the rest of the toes. Somehow your little toe always goes against this plan. It is as if someone says, "Hey! Hey! Little Toe! Look here! Turn round!" Little Toe turns round and the next thing you know, you are writhing in pain on the ground. Your little toe somehow hit the corner of the couch! The Little Toe in our group usually seems to be going in a different direction from where the rest of the toes are going. It is never her fault, but she always seems to be following instructions that the rest of the band has not heard about.

Ok. Almost there. Now you know half of the people. The other three are myself (not really sure what my code name would be - The Frat Boy? The Bunjee Jumper?). Who knows? The other two people were "The Lady" and "The Safety Cord." The lady was the one person in our group we were never really sure would survive the backpacking trip. She was the person who wanted fresh croissants in Paris while the rest of us were content eating our bread and cheese on the train. She was the one who looked petrified every time we got to a hostel and she realized that "hostel" is not synonymous with "hotel." By the end of this trip, The Lady had undergone a transformation though. We would get into a train and she would be the first to say "Little Toe, hand me the bread! The Reluctant, pass me that salami! BARacuda, do you still have that plastic knife from the other day? Ok, gang! I am making us some sandwiches!" The last member of the group was "The Safety Cord." If it wasn't for The Safety Cord, we would most likely still be in Europe - lost in some remote town or in a club where time would stand still, and we would only notice one day when we looked into a pool of murky water on the ground and saw the grey hairs on our heads. The Safety Cord is amazingly fun but always rational (at least almost always:-). She lets you go bunjee jumping, but ensures you don't end up hitting the ground. She is the voice of reason that would say, "I know you are having fun. Yes, yes, I know you think he looks like Eric Northman. In reality, he is a troll. He is saying him and his friends will make sure we get home after the club, but have you realized they can't even stand upright? They don't even have shoes on! It is time to go home! We have an early morning train." Despite our protestations, we always had her to thank many a headachy morning.

Together with these lovely band of crazies, we went to take over Europe!

Heading to Santiago, Chile

January 20, 2015

My last day in San Pedro de Atacama was spent doing nothing. I had not realized how exhausted I was from all my crazy traveling in Brazil and Bolivia. I had a 4:45pm bus to Santiago. It was going to be a 24 hour bus ride and I was looking forward to sleeping through most of it. I had paid for a "cama" seat which I assumed would be fully reclined, but was disappointed to find out it was only halfway reclined. I realized that the next 24 hours were probably not going to be the most comfortable. A few minutes after getting on the bus I realized just how pressed I was. I was so annoyed with myself, "Why would you drink so much water before getting on a bus?" I had been forewarned about how buses generally left passengers who got off the bus at restpoints and didn't get back quickly enough. I had already vowed that I was never going to be one of these passengers - who got off the bus, were left by the bus and had to figure out how to get their luggage from halfway across the country and also find another bus to your chosen destination - I had zero interest in being one of those people.

I tried to think dry thoughts to ignore my bladder - think of dry bread, ok, now think of deserts. No, not the oasis! Just the dry dry desert. By the time the bus made it's first stop, I realized I was going to need the washroom - my dry thoughts had only made me more and more pressed. The bus stopped and I was the first person at the door. The conductor drily announced that they were only going to stop for 10 minutes. I had thought of asking the person sitting next to me to make sure the bus didn't depart without me, but I did not know enough Spanish to say this. I thus opted for running really quickly to the washroom and back. The building we had stopped at had 2 floors. I ran to the first shop I saw and asked about the washrooms. The person behind the counter must have had some sort of speech impediment that made him speak reaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllly reaaaaaaaaaalllly slowly. I wanted to cry. "You are wasting my 10 minutes!" Finally he finished explaining where the washroom was. I ran there only to realize that you had to put coins into a machine, that opened swinging doors, that let you into the toilet. I had no coins! I ran back to the shop to get change. The guy who spoke reaaaaallly reallllllly slowly also worked reeeeeeeeeaaaaaaallly reaaaaaaaallly slowly. I wanted to scream as he slowly opened the till, slowly counted the coins, slowly handed them to me. I ran back to the loo and I was in and out in under a minute!

I ran back to the bus platform and was happy to see my bus (or at least a bus that looked like mine) still at the platform. I got in, went to "my chair", sat down and turned to "my neighbour" only to realize I had never seen this person before in my life. "Oh shit! I am on the wrong bus." I ran towards the exit and the bus had already started moving. I told the conductor (who I also didn't recognize) that I was on the wrong bus. He slowly looked at my ticket instead of letting me get off to figure out where my bus was! I was getting irritated. He assured me that I was on the right bus and told me that my neighbour had alighted at this particular location and that was the reason why there was someone new next to me.

Phewks! I sat down. Despite not drinking anything for the next 24 hours to avoid a repeat performance, my bladder still felt it was only proper to spontaneously fill every few hours. As such the scene narrated above was repeated at least 3 or 4 more times during the trip until we got to Santiago - the capital of Chile.

It was only when I got to Santiago that I learnt the buses had loos! Sigh......

The king's quarters

August 18, 2014

After a few days at Estrella Andina, I remembered I was meant to be on a tight budget. I moved to Hostal Republica (which was the home of one of Bolivia's former presidents.) I loved how such things were possible in Bolivia - staying in a presidential home for a few dollars. The place was comfortable and built in that Spanish way where the rooms were mostly upstairs overlooking a courtyard from which I could imagine a lovestruck lad would sing "Fiiiiiigaro, figaro, figaro!" as the object of his affection peers from her window and sighs, "If only I could leave this room, but my evil stepmother has put a spell on the door. If I touch it I will surely die.....sigh!"

I always have the random luck of getting to places on people's birthdays. It was the birthday of one of the ladies who worked at the hostel. As soon as I arrived there was cake and snacks. I indulged and joined in the festivities. I instantly liked this hostel and the people working there who made me feel like family. Having eaten, I was told that there was going to be free beer tasting at the hostel all day. "Ati atya??" I instantly knew I was home. I noticed a very beautiful black girl in the group when we were singing happy birthday. She was the first black person I had seen in Bolivia (other than myself:-) and we instantly started chatting. She was great. She was Haitian, a lawyer doing her Masters in Bolivia and working part time at the hostel restaurant.

The hostel had a tour company across the road. I crossed over and booked a trip for the next day to Copacabana, Isla del Sol and Lake Titicaca (http://www.thekenyanexplorer.com/blog/2014/7/19/miscarried-baby-llamas-and-ancient-godspart-1-of-3). I spent a few hours in the afternoon napping then woke up later to eat what I believe has to be one of the tastiest (and cheapest) steaks I have ever eaten. Hostal republica had a lot of great things to offer.

As I ate my steak I met some other friendly tourists - an Italian guy and a German girl. I was telling them about my bad luck trying to go to Peru and they almost convinced me to try get there on road...."They don't really check documents at the border when you are on a bus..." I almost got tempted, until I had a vision of myself sitting in a Bolivian or Peruvian jail waiting for the non-existent Kenyan embassy to bail me out. It is never that serious.

The italian guy told us the most humorous story about this one Swedish backpacker he met during his South America journeys. They traveled together for a few days and the guy only had a small bag with him (despite the fact that he had been backpacking for months.) He did not have a change of clothes either. Every time they got to a river or lake, he would take off his clothes, wash them and walk around naked waiting for them to dry. One day they went to the beach and out of his little bag, he took out a shovel to build a sandcastle. The guy didn't have a change of clothes, but he had a shovel? Misplaced priorities anyone?

I slept well that night.

Day one of Carnival in Rio - partying is a very hard job

March 3, 2014

I know it's been a few days since I blogged, so I will jump straight into Carnival stories and update you later about what I was doing before that. The night before Carnival started, my friend informed me, "We need to be up at 6am to go for the first Carnival party." My heart almost stopped. Anyone who knows me, knows that early mornings are to me, what Kryptonite is to superman. I wondered to myself, "What type of party starts that early?" He said one of the best troops would be starting to perform in another part of town at 7am and they were among the best. I slept and was promptly awake at 6am. It took us a while to get into costume - mine wasn't too complicated. I had a kitenge crop top that I got made by my amazing tailor in Nairobi and I was wearing some tiny shorts that I bought on the beach the previous day. My friend was going as the devil and his costume was pretty low maintenance (a speedo, horns, a cape and a tail), but he needed to be covered in red paint to really look the part. His girlfriend was not wearing a specific costume as she had not had time to buy one before Carnival.

We left the house by 6:45am. We hopped on the bus and that's when I realized I was hungry. We couldn't stop to eat, but thankfully we had carried quite a few beers. So I had a few for breakfast....on the bus. We made friends on the bus and the 30 minute bus ride felt short. My friend had warned me not to carry any bag. Anything we needed had to be discreetly stored on your body. It kind of felt like we were going to a reggae concert in Kenya....except the performers actually showed up (Tarrus Riley, anyone:-) We got to the carnival party and it was all sorts of chaos. Our first bus got us to the bottom of a hill (mountain?) and the carnival troupe was at the very top. A second bus got us to the next one. The waiting point at the bottom of the hill was full of very many, very happy and very drunk and very loud people (I really wish I spoke Portuguese..I am sure I missed some amazing stories.) We got to the top and there were thousands of people all lined up on a very narrow street. We were all moving forward very slowly to the source of music, but never quite made it.

By around 9am, my friend, his girlfriend and I had finished the few beers we had brought with us and started buying some off the street peddlers. At some point we also had little cools of caipirinha - very much like the cools we used to have when we were kids except for the fact that instead of sugar, color and ice, they had rum and sugar. By around 10am, I began to feel overwhelmed by the heat, the drinks, the crowd, the drumbeats. I remember taking lots of pictures and getting anxious because my camera started acting up (and I didn't want to use my phone and have it die on me.)

At 10:30am, my friend said there was another carnival party close to our house that we needed to go to. We went there and it was amazing! This one was less crowded so we could see the musicians and hear the drum beats. The music felt very African. Even though I didn't understand a word, I knew how to dance to it. We stayed there for an hour and danced to our heart's content. Around noon, my friend said we should go to the beach. I couldn't imagine dealing with any more heat. Rio is hot on a completely different level. Temperatures can rise up to 40 degrees celcius and the humidity is even crazier than Mombasa or Boston in the summer. My friend and his girlfriend went to the beach and I came home to recuperate.

I got home and fiddled with my camera for an hour or more before finally getting it to work. Just when I was about to take a nap, my friend and his girlfriend came home. We chatted a bit, and again just as I was about to take a nap, our new roommates from Sao Paolo got in. They had lots of energy and we took some drinks to welcome them. Around 4pm I finally took a nap. My friend and his girlfriend had tickets to an official carnival procession that was taking place in the evening. I planned to party with our new roommates. Around 7pm one of them woke me up to say they were leaving. I told them I would meet them in an hour. I set my alarm but didn't hear it at all. I woke up around 12:30am when my new roommates were staggering back into the house.

Partying is a really really hard job:-) Especially when it starts at 6am. I have no idea how anyone manages to party from 6am to past midnight, but that is quite common here during carnival. I need to build my stamina.

Arrival in Rio!

February 26, 2014

Wow! That was a trip and a half. Who knew that my flight from Dubai to Rio would be 14.5 hours long? I really should know my geography better. So I left Nairobi at 11:30pm on Monday night and got to Dubai at 5:30am. It was a quick flight - around 4.5 hours. I left Dubai at 7:30am and knew I was getting to Rio at 2:30pm local time. I kind of forgot to look at the time difference:-) I got on the plane and I thought I heard them say 4.5 hours and I thought, "hmmmm, that's quick." Until I actually looked at the screen and saw 14.5 hours.

My flight from Nairobi to Dubai was nice and quite uneventul. I decided to watch the Stephen King horror movie whose main character my Government name came from "Carrie." Heee. Heeee. Just kidding. I am named Carrie after my grandmother who was given the name by some missionaries back in the day. My stopover in Dubai was quite short. I remember getting to the gate for the Rio flight and thinking "Oh snap. Everyone here is speaking Portuguese. Maybe I really need to know some for Brazil." The only non-Portuguese language I heard at the lounge was either Punjabi or Gujirati. Not like I understood a word, but I took comfort in the fact that it was a familiar language. There was even a guy in Nigerian attire speaking in Portuguese. I later on confirmed that he was infact Nigerian when we were checking in and I saw his green passport.

There were also a lot of Chinese people on the flight. Perhaps they were going on to Buenos Aires via Rio (our flight's final destination was Buenos Aires.) I asked my hosts about the large number of Chinese travelers on the plane, and they said there isn't a significant number of Chinese people in Rio......hence my conclusion they were going on to Argentina.

That 14.5 hour flight was the most fascinating flight ever. We left Dubai at 7:30am and for the next 14.5 hours every time I looked out of the window, the sun was still extremely bright. I am sure the directions the pilot has to Rio are "keep flying into the sun until you see the Jesus statue, then dip down and land......" It was so sunny at some point that we were all asked to pull down the blinds for at least 7 hours of the flight. Every time I peeked out of the blinds, I could imagine how vampires feel. "Oh no, the bright lights! Aaaaaaaaaaaargghhhhh, I'm melting........!"

The other strange thing about that flight was that we were only fed a real meal towards the last one hour of the flight. From the beginning we were served a light breakfast, then a light snack (veggie pizza), then some cookies.....At some point the African in me was about to cause some drama. "Just because time is standing still given our longitudinal motion, is no reason to stiff me out of a proper hot meal." Finally 12.5 hours into the flight we were served lunch. Amen.

Getting through customs in Rio was easy. The tricky part was all the stuff I needed to do at the airport after that - change money, buy a sim card, get a taxi to take me to my friend's place. Everyone spoke to me in Portuguese and I tried to do my best with hand signals. Due to language barriers, I didn't even realize there was a USD 15 commission for any currency exchange in the airport.

I got out of the airport, saw a friendly looking cab guy and went to him with my notebook to point out my address. We negotiated a price (again with hand symbols) and off we went. On my way to Gavea, we passed the Christ the Redeemer statue. I was so excited. I got out of the taxi and took a mega-zoomed in pic:-)

The cab had one of those little DVD screens and we watched what I thought was a Brazilian soap with a Queen Latifah look alike. I kept thinking, "Wow. Queen Latifah has a Brazilian twin." Later on I realized that it was an American film once I saw Diane Keaton and Katie Holmes. I wonder if Queen Latifah knows she speaks perfect Portuguese.....

On getting to my friend's place I was warmly welcomed by his landlady and landlord with hugs, kisses and watermelon slices. Love it! Half an hour after my arrival, they asked if I wanted to go to the beach. That's a no-brainer for me. Jetlag can wait. We went to the beach then met up with my friend for dinner and drinks. It was a lovely night.

I slept by 11:30pm and woke up today at 9:30am ready to discover Rio! I am off to the Jesus statue today then will head to the beach! Excitement!!

Ate mais!