Almost alone in Lamu

Nes and Emre visiting from Turkey and want to see the Indian Ocean so I take them to Lamu- an Archipelago some 300kms northeast of Mombasa. Norbert is staying in Nairobi with the elder three while Naomi comes with me. Nice to be travelling almost on my own, almost like backpacking,
with only one child still so small she can be tied in a shawl on my belly. Packing my long hippie dresses perfect in a Muslim place like Lamu and no shoes as there is no roads, only sandy paths along narrow stonehouses. Mosquito repellent, sunglasses, passport and a book!

Departing from Wilson airport in a small plane like going back to South Sudan, the noise from the engine so load there is hardly room for conversation, Naomi twisting and turning until finally falling asleep just as we are descending on Lamu airstrip and again waking up as we walk out onto the boiling afternoon heat. Ok, backpacking for adults is fine we smile to eachother as a man suggests to carry our luggage the few hundred meters to the jetty; small wooden boats taking us from the mainland to Lamu- and further to Shella village where we are staying.

I have booked rooms at Banana House, a beautiful little "hotel" in a spacious Swahili-style house placed in a lush tropical garden. Details so gorgeous you can rest your eyes everywhere: there are hanging wooden daybeds in openair areas, sofas and beds covered by colourful kikois and pillows, small ponds with fresh flowers, woodcarved tables and doors, rustic lamps- a delicate fusion of Indian colours and tranquility, desert symbolism and Arabic patterns, African materials and white smiles, together capturing the fascinating essence of Lamu.

Its hot and the air is humid; mosquitos' perfect habitat and (for that combined reason) we dont sleep so well, including my 7 months old baby staying in the same bed as me, sweating and itching and only wanting the comfort of breastmilk. In the mornings our Malindi man sets the table outside our room with straw mats and coffee cups and brings a big plate of mango and papaya and a huge flower in the middle and we wake up as fruit and Kenyan brew work through our sleepy bodies. Thoroughly priveleged people- only worries in life being mosquitos and deciding on whether to have grilled fish or fish curry for dinner. Which is cooked to us by the Banana cook and served freshly from large wooden bowls in the evening breeze, candlelights on the table and a bottle of crisp cold white wine brought from Nairobi,
as Lamuians dont sell alcohol.
Great Company- and finally Naomi asleep.

Lamu is a UNESCO World Heritage site and the pristine Beach is a completely natural stretch of white sand, not a shelter, umbrella or beach bar in site, only sand dunes in the back, wavy ocean in front. We stay away during the hot days and go for walks there in the afternoons, picking shells, Naomi hanging heavy on my belly. Taking quick dips but the currents are strong so we are afraid of swimming too far out.

Visiting Lamu town, Kenya's oldest continually inhabited town, founded in 1370 and one of the original Swahili settlements along coastal East Africa I almost feel taken back to that time as we set our feet on the shore. There are no cars on the island (apart from a police car I am told), but many many donkeys and covered women, even faces covered, conservative muslims, men in jalabias sitting under the giant trees hiding from the heat.

Some nicer hotels are located on the seafront, no longer very nice as tourists have failed Lamu since an incident of kidnapping happened here three years ago. However, back in Shella village, the legendary Peponi Hotel opened in the 60s is still going strong, owned and run by an English family and we sense an aura of colonialism as we enter it, a feeling enhanced by the patronizing attitude towards us when they realize we are not "hotel residents" and thus cannot be granted one of the tables outise facing the Ocean.. Nevertheless, they serve us a fantastic meal of tuna maki, crab curry and Belgian truffles.

Almost like travelling alone, but not quite.
When I want to take a walk on the beach she is too hot to be happy.
When I want to take a swim there is no shade where I can lie her down so we walk back.
When I sit down to have dinner she is too tired and I showel the food down while rocking her on my arm.
When its perfect time for an afternoon stroll through the village..she finally takes a nap and I wait for her in the room.

But there are those moments when the timing is right; when she sits happily on my belly while we wander the exotic streets of Lamu town,
when she sits naked on my lap in the sea playing with a floating leaf,
or when she falls alseep on two chairs placed together at Peponi just as we are about to have dinner  -and just then it feels better than travelling alone and I feel like the coolest (and happiest) mom in the world.

 

And as we stroll back through the poor village after an afternoon sailing on a traditional dhow - we again feel the breeze of Luck in Life, passing tiny houses filled with children and parents without jobs, whose only income is fishing tuna or taking tourists out for a sunset sailing trip.