Journey to Kenya

After a slight panic at finding out how much Kenya airways charges for extra baggage, my last day in the UK was spent, not as I had planned with a lovely day with my family, but unpacking and re-packing all of my stuff so that yet again I  could try and strip out what I didn’t need. Such as clothes and shoes. That’s the problem with going away on fieldwork. Books, computers and equipment are suddenly more important than having things to wear.

With much help from my parents, who are a lot more ruthless than myself I had finally gotten down to what should just about be passable at check-in. At the airport there was a minor face-off between myself and the lady at the check in. On Kenya Airways’ website it said one hand-luggage, and one accessory (such as laptop or camera bag). The problem is they didn’t specify the details of the camera bag. So there I was with my 11kg of hand-luggage and a camera bag filled with my new toy, 2 lenses, all my electrical equipment and hidden away was my netbook.

“But it doesn’t look like a camera bag, it looks like a rucksack”. At this stage I pointed out that there wasn’t anything on the website that said what shape the bag had to be. Seeing things weren’t going too smoothly, my parents came over for moral support, and I was hoping that if I couldn’t persuade the woman now coming over to make the final decision, that my mother, who has the ability to control hoards of children and bend them to her every will with a single look, might be able to do the trick. Luckily, with a simple not from the rather intimidating woman I was free to go. Deep down wondering if my mother does actually have the power of mind control...

After saying goodbye to my parents, and a rather treacherous pass through security (taking about 20minutes to unpack  and re-pack laptops, as well as having to undress and re-dress as is now the custom) I had just enough time for a couple of quick phone calls before jumping on the plane and being on my way.

The flight was ok, once I had been moved twice (once due to a faulty screen and once for a family who wanted to sit together), and following a minor choking incident when forgetting to check if the food contained chilli... Due to the latter occurrence, I was introduced to my friendly neighbour on the plane who took pity on me and insisted on making sure I was OK and wasn’t about to die on her.  We chatted for a while, and I found out that she was on her way back to Kenya to meet her son, who she had been estranged from for 20 years after fleeing Somalia during the war. She was a lovely lady, and after exchanging numbers, she said she would look after me once I got to Mombasa, and make sure I was OK.

I often think that life has a way of forming itself into neat patterns. As following the rather interesting flight, we then went into what was a very bumpy landing. Then I found myself in what has to be one of the hottest foyers ever (one young girl collapsed whilst waiting), in a hugely long visa queue, and watching every other line move at least twice as fast as my own. After nearly two hours, with tourist visa in hand, I wondered if this was how my life in Kenya was going to be... Hot, slow, difficult and bumpy at times, with potential poisoning, and everything being slightly harder than it necessarily needs to be???

To complete the chain of events, after finally getting a decent price for my taxi journey (not out the door of the airport and the haggling has begun), we drove to where my B&B should have been and found nothing there. After 3 loops of the street, finally I spotted a small set of stairs, above which was a very dingy sign. Normally this might have raised some concerns, but by this point I was so tired, I would have slept almost anywhere. Much to my relief however, once inside the place was lovely. I checked in, selected my breakfast for the following morning and promptly headed for bed. Hoping that the next day would be a lot simpler, and that finally I could get my visas and permits sorted and be on my way.

Emma xxx