June 29: Mombasa

Nancy and I left Tsavo East NP and drove a few hours to the port city of Mombasa on the coast. Mombasa is the second largest city in Kenya and a major port for the import and export of international trade goods. We only went to Mombasa to catch a short flight over to Zanzibar to meet back up with Caitlin.

The drive to Mombasa on the Nairobi-Mombasa highway was more or less like driving through hell. Picture a TWO-lane (yes, I said two lane) highway packed with an endless line of frieght trucks moving in both directions, with a few passenger vehicles interspersed for good measure. Keep in mind this is THE major highway for the transport of all goods from the port of Mombasa to Nairobi and points beyond. Yes, they have a rail line, as you would expect, but it doesn’t appear to be used to move frieght, only passengers – go figure? Now picture some trucks barely moving at, say, 10 km/hour (barely a crawl), and others moving at, say, 100 km/hour (fast moving). Now picture matatus (mini passenger buses) going 140 km/hour (speeding) with no road etiquette, zipping in and out, passing at all times regardless of the visibility ahead with no consideration for anyones safety – apparently this includes their own passengers who have paid rock bottom fees for the cheapest and quickest way to get from point A to B. Most of these matatus look like they have been in multiple accidents. Basically, you are going along at, say, 80 km/hour and then a matatu comes flying pass you out of no where even though you are constantly checking your rear-view mirror, then you have to come almost to a screeching halt because the truck ahead of you is in first gear going up a slight incline. Then, you think about overtaking the truck ahead of you, and just when you start to pull into the oncoming lane a huge semi frieght truck comes barreling past you from behind without the slightest care for your safety, ignoring your turn signal indicating that you were about to overtake the vehicle in front. You swerve back into your own lane just in the nick of time as the truck nearly takes off your side-view mirror. Eventually you risk another attempt to overtake the sluggish truck ahead because you can’t fathom staying in 1st gear for the next 180 km. You gun it, overtake the truck, and swerve back into your lane just before an oncoming truck almost smashes head-on into you. You speed up, slam on the breaks, speed up again, come almost to a stop because the rumble tracks in the highway ahead cause the trucks ahead to come almost to a complete stop in order to roll over them without losing their load, then you speed up and pass 4 trucks in a row, swerve back into your lane just in time, downshift to 2nd gear to keep from running into the donkey-pulling cart ahead, start to overtake the truck ahead but a frieght truck or matatu comes zipping past you from behind without notice and you frantically swerve back into your lane, then you pull out again and hit the accelerator to pass the line of trucks ahead and just as you get beyond them an turn back into your own lane you quickly downshift to avoid hitting the herd of goats and really stupid cows that randomly decide to cross the HIGHWAY at that very second. You swerve in and out of your lane trying to leap ahead of the slow-moving trucks whenever a chance allows, but always ready to brake rapidy for the many unmarked speed bumps, rumble tracks, donkey carts and livestock on this MAJOR HIGHWAY, less you destroy your vehicle. Now imagine playing this cat and mouse game for 180 km and 3 hours of madness. There is NO pleasure in driving the Mombasa highway from hell and Kenya should be ashamed that this is what they have for their major transportation route through the country. I have officially dubbed this highway the worse road to drive in Kenya and probably all of Africa. Please, may I never have to drive this road again.

Eventually, we made it to Mombasa, but due to the chaotic traffic and unclear guidance from the web as to useful shopping centers, we failed to get any of the planned errands completed, except one. After finding a hotel and getting admitted, I braved a trip in a tuk-tuk (i.e., a 3-wheeled hybrid motorcycle-car taxi) to find a hardware store to get a couple of nuts and bolts for the Green Dragon. Braving city traffic in a tuk-tuk is a hair-raising experience (oh ya, I don’t have any hair left to raise, which is probably a good thing). Not only did I loose a few of my remaining hairs, but I probably lost a year of my life breathing in all the exhaust fumes from the thousands of tuk-tuks, motorcycles and other vehicles that do not have catalytic converters to say the least. After visiting 4 so-called hardware stores – which is an experience itself – I actually found one that had what I needed. This hardware store was just like the other 20 or so hardware stores I passed on the street and the 4 I visited, each of which was a store of about 8 feet wide by 20 feet deep and stacked with unmarked boxes of miscellaneous hardware supplies. After presenting the bolt I needed copies of, the owern (usually of Indian decent) would send their servant helper (always a young black African) into the shelving stacks behind the counter to riffle through unmarked boxes of all shapes, sizes and colors, with no obvious organization to the stock, at least to my eyes. At my 5th store I was truly shocked when the helper came back from the stacks with just the bolt I needed – incredible. I had given up any chance of finding what I needed after the 3rd shop, but persisted nonetheless. You have to remember that you can’t get anything done quickly in Africa, but often if you persist and go to enough places you can eventually get most things done. TIA and it requires a great deal of patience.

OK, I don’t have much else to say about Mombasa, as we weren’t here to enjoy whatever pleasures this city has to offer. We just needed a bed and shower before catching our flight to Zanzibar, where Caitlin awaited.

New species:

• House crow