Lamu Getaway

The first of a series of posts about our trip to Lamu!

The holidays are usually a time to gather with family and friends to celebrate, so when we were faced with spending Christmas without either for the first time, we knew we had to plan something fabulous to make up for the missing company. We settled on Lamu, an island off of the coast of Kenya, known for its pole pole “slowly slowly” lifestyle and overall calm, as it is an island that is home to just two cars, leaving donkeys as the main mode of transportation. Knowing this would be an absolute contrast to the hustle and bustle of Nairobi, we couldn’t have been more excited for the break, and seeing as how we booked the vacation in October, we had plenty of time to anticipate the trip. The last couple of weeks at Hamomi wrapped up nicely, and before we knew it, we were on holiday. Not only were we faced with packing for a 9-day reprieve, but we were also moving houses, and had to pack up all of our stuff, reminding us once again about how much we over packed. Luckily, thanks to our wonderful friend Caitlan, who was also joining us to Lamu, we were able to stash our stuff at her place until we returned and set up shop at our new place ( more on that later).

We took an absolute quality night bus to Mombasa, an 8 hour trip from Nairobi, and were treated as though on a flight, complete with drinks and snacks at various points throughout the trip. Off to a great start. We arrived in Mombasa just before sunrise, around 6 am, and while our original plan was to spend the day there to break up the full 15 hours of travel, our excitement got the best of us and we decided that, since we got in early enough, we would catch a morning bus to Lamu, which is supposed to be around 6 hours. Let me emphasize the supposed to be, as you’ll soon see why. Taking a tuk tuk, a three wheeled cart, we asked the driver to take us to a bus headed to Lamu, as we didn’t exactly know what bus companies made the trip and hadn’t scheduled any bus yet. He dropped us at the first station he saw and we were thrilled to know there had room on their 7:00 bus. The hour passed quickly and soon we were en route to our island getaway.

It took about 15 minutes into the ride for us to realize we may have made a hasty decision taking this bus company ( although we had no way of knowing how bad it would be). The Indian music that blared at an inappropriate volume promised there would be no sleeping on this trip. A stop in Malindi, about two hours north of mombasa, only vereified the 9 hour misery we were about to endure. First, the bus oversold seats, didn’t enforce the assigned seats on the tickets, and resulted in people standing, sitting in every nook and cranny of the bus. I even shared my seat with a little boy about 4 years old because I couldn’t stand the thought of him having to stand for the remainder of the trip. Just miles out of Malindi, the semi paved road disappeared and we continued on a gravel/dirt road that was so bad, the entire bus vibrated for the next six hours. Eric’s window at one point started falling out, and the seat in front of him was half on his lap, as it was hanging off by its hinge. On top of that, the music was still blaring, and we were still stopping at random points to pick even more people up. Surprisingly, we were able to stay in good spirits, as nothing could detract from our excitement. One other highlight that should be mentioned about the trip is that we had to stop and pick up two armed guards for a few hours of the trip, as that road is notorious for carjackings. Another thing worth mentioning about the trip is the unusual, or maybe not so in Kenya, pasasengers we acquired about 30 minutes before we got to the ferry. Chickens. Live ones. Half of a dozen of them. We had the good fortune to have two placed right under the seats in front of us, so we entertained ourselves by sticking our toes out to see if they would peck them. They were quiet for the most part, with the occasional squawking coming from the rowdy ones on the back of the bus. Only in Kenya. Speaking of Kenya, we got the rare opportunity to catch a glimpse of life in the bush. And by glimpse, I really mean glimpse, as we could only observe from the moving bus, but what we saw was quite incredible. Every village we passed had a different style of hut, and was completely lacking anything modern. Had we not been on a bus jostling by, we could have easily been there a few hundred years ago and nothing would have changed.
We started our journey at 7 a.m. We finally arrived at the ferry at 4 p.m.

And by ferry, I mean a jerry rigged wooden boat with an engine that undoubtedly dated back to pre- WWII. But, seeing no other options, and embracing the adventure we hopped on, squeezed in and went with it. It was a quick 20 minute ride, and while we enjoyed the fresh air and cool breeze, we were on high alert for pirates. As Lamu is only about 50 miles from Somalia. ( Lol, okay so there aren’t actually any pirates so close to land, or in that area, but it was still something in the back of our minds).
As we made our way around the northern point of the island, we began to see boats docked, untamed beaches, and old style Swahili buildings. We had arrived.

Now we could ramble on an on about every little detail, but this post would go on forever, much longer than the average reader’s attention span, plus there was so much that couldn’t be explained, even by the best of writers, so I will try my best to go over some highlights.

The first thing that must be written about is the place that we stayed. A budget friendly guesthouse frequented by many backpackers, Casuarina sits on the harbor, just right off the main jetty. I don’t know if we fell in love with the place for the rooftop terrace or the staff that ran it, but either way it was the perfect place for us. No fuss, the rooms were clean and simple, a bed with mosquito net, a dresser with a mirror, and windows that caught the constant breeze off the ocean. A windy, Harry Potter like staircase led up from our room to the rooftop, which was an open space with tables and couches, sheltered only be a high thatched roof. The breeze up there was overwhelming, the atmosphere so calm, and the company of the resident turtles and kittens made it our favorite place to go, and a place where we spent a majority of our time. Whether it was enjoying morning breakfast, a nightcap, or serving as our evening entertainment, we always knew where to find people, it was our go to spot. Feeding the turtles, and much to our excitement, watching them fight over the flowers, then…. How do I say this delicately, watching one get rid of its lunch ( a first for all of us) was our daily routine. We also made friends with the two kittens that lived there, namely one, Shuna. She absolutely fell in love with Eric and we soon found her sneaking into our room at night, trying to get into our mosquito net, and, when unsuccessful, would settle for our chair, where she would curl up for the night until we woke her up in the morning. She honestly followed us around whenever we were on the rooftop and found a permanent spot in Eric’s lap.

The staff there, as said before, really made our stay special. They were young guys, as nice as could be, and they really helped us get into the island mode of relaxation. Any question or request we had they were more than helpful. But beyond that, they became our buddies, and would join us on the rooftop and waste the night away chit chatting and relaxing right along with us. Caitlan especially became really close with the staff, along with a boat captain who was relatives with the owner of the guest house, so we had connections everywhere we went.

Lamu town is a maze of alleys and walkways, with only two main roads, and the only roads in the town that had actual names, not that anyone used them. Along the seafront were local restaurants that served the freshest seafood and best fresh squeezed juices, we tried as many different places we could, and enjoyed every single one of them. Of course, walking down the seafront, one must be on the lookout for the oncoming herd of donkeys, who walk diligently and without guidance up and down the boardwalk, carrying bundles of various goods. What is so great about Lamu is that it isn’t a tourist place. While scores of tourists go there for vacation, they haven’t disrupted their way of life to accommodate the tourists, giving the town a real feel. People go about their business as usual, but are the most friendly people I have ever encountered, which was a great surprise coming from the sometimes aggressive nature of Kenyans in other parts of the country. Every morning, walking down the street, people passing by stop and say Hello in a genuine way, wishing you a good day. Even the beach boys who try to sell their dhows trips to you were friendly, a simple no to them would be sufficient, and they would wish you a good rest of your stay and go on with their day. It was the most free, laidback environment I’ve ever been in. As stated, the town isn’t made for tourists, there is still garbage some places, and you have to watch where you’re walking or you might step in a trail the donkeys left behind, but it was so full of life, wandering up and down the seafront and parallel street offered so many options for food and shopping, or just people watching in general.

The beach, also a big reason for our trip, was about a 45 minute walk down the seafront and passed what we would call a shipyard, where ships were being repaired or made. We could opt to take a quick dhow ride down to the beach, but we liked taking in the sights by walking along the ocean. Shela Beach, is a separate town, or rather village, and is quite built up by expats who have homes or businesses there. It still has the narrow alleys and Swahili structure like Lamu town, but is much quieter, peaceful, and a bit more exclusive, not to mention expensive. The beach itself is like the rest of the island, untamed and non-commercialized. The first day we walked way past the groups of beach goers and opted for a sandbar that required us to walk through the ocean a bit to get to. The tide there was unbelievable. It would go out so far that we could walk out for almost half a mile and still not be in waist deep water. But, when the tide came in, we could barely walk a few feet before our feet would slide downhill and we’d be chin deep. During low tide, there were amazing sandbars that went on forever. There was no designated beach, nor rules to follow, so the coast was our playground. We spent the afternoon walking around the beach, enjoying the slightly cooler than bath water temperature of the water. When we were sufficiently water logged and sunkissed, we would make our way back to town to scope out a new place for lunch. Whereas other vacations would have found me beachfront from 10 to 4, a mere couple hours was more than enough for a day, as the intense current and hot equatorial sun tired us out.

I’ll stop here for now and continue to add highlights form our trip as the days go by.

Till next time,

Laurel