Sadly the time has almost come to say goodbye with a heavy heart to all the wonderful people at Sanctuary Olonana. At 11:00 a.m. tomorrow I will be in a tin can flying over the famous Siria escarpment and the golden plains of the Masai Mara on my way to Nairobi and then back to merry ol' England.
Looking at on the past 3 months working in Olonana I can truly say that I have had the ultimate Mara experience that no other guest will ever have the luck to repeat. It's not just the myriad of animals that made these 3 months unforgettable; that is only a fraction of what attracts me to the Mara; it is, without a doubt the employees here at Sanctuary Olonana that have made me feel right at home and the neighboring Masai community who have never failed to surprise me with their unlimited kindness despite the obvious linguistic and cultural barriers. In the time that I've worked here I have been: a chef, a pastry chef, a housekeeper, a waiter, a mechanic, a carpenter, a roof thatcher, a mason, a gardener, a truck driver, a swimming-pool cleaner, a cleaner, and an electrician. So, needless to say, I leave Olonana a much more learned person and there are too many people to thank for this that I can't list for fear of boring you even longer. But there are a few people I must mention because it would be a crime not to do so. To Leopald King, the manager at Olonana, who has kept a careful watch on us to ensure that both Caitlin's and my experience here is not marred. To Maurice and Christine, who have both been our 'go to' people when it comes down to activities in and around the Masai Mara. To Abdul who organized my little excursion up Mt. Kenya. To Mark Wheeler and Elijah Wainaina, who had the final say on us working at Olonana. And finally to Melanie Pomfret and Anabel Tremaine who interviewed both Caitlin and I way back in 2009 and strangely decided to choose us over the others that applied for the same experience!
Asante sana and tuanani badai (thank you very much and see you later)
Xav
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
A Day in Nairobi
Having returned to Nairobi from Mt. Kenya on the evening of the 17th and since I wasn't to go back to Olonana till 19th I found myself with a day to spare in Nairobi which I intended to take full advantage of. The A&K office in Nairobi very kindly lent me one of their drivers for the day, a very happy man named Patrick who has been a driver for A&K for the past 6 years and knows Nairobi like the back of his hand. The day began with a tour of the various districts in central Nairobi: The financial districts, Uhuru park, the U.S. embassy memorial ground and various Government ministry buildings including the Presidents residence which, needless to say, looked very pleasant. Areas that were avoided were downtown Nairobi and Kibera, the 2nd largest slum in the world. After the tour we proceeded to an area called Karen to visit the reptile sanctuary. Inside were pens full of various Nile crocodiles of categorized according to their age. I was even allowed to hold a baby 2 year old crocodile. However due to a certain amount of cockiness on my part the crocodile played dead for a long time while I pretended to kiss it. Suddenly the crocodile left to live and nearly removed the lower part of my lip... I won't be doing that again any time soon. In amongst the crocodiles were large Leopard tortoises of the kind we had seen in the Mara except that these were at least 20kg heavier and so with an effort I was able to carry that one as well.
After the crocs came the giraffe sanctuary where this time you can kiss the animals without them attempting to deface you... I and everyone around me had a great time petting and feeding the giraffes, and the giraffes looked very happy to be pampered. A light lunch and it was then off to the snake sanctuary and Nairobi museum. At the snake sanctuary I came face-to-face again with the Mt. Kenya viper that greeted me during my hike. In addition one of the curators also allowed me to handle a Royal Python that soon wrapped itself around my neck. In the Nairobi museum I saw the oldest complete human skeleton ever discovered. Called the 'Turkana Boy' this skeleton dates back 1.5 million years. In the evening I was greeted with a complimentary dinner at the famous 'Carnivore' Restaurant where the only thing on offer is meat... and lots of it. Although game meat has been banned by the Kenyan government the restaurant still had on offer crocodile meat, camel meat, and deer meat. In addition I even tried some Bull testicles... it was quite chewy and I don't think I'll be trying it again in a hurry. Very happy with the day's activities I went to my hotel realizing that I couldn't wait to return to everyone at Olonana to tell them of my short excursion.
Xav
After the crocs came the giraffe sanctuary where this time you can kiss the animals without them attempting to deface you... I and everyone around me had a great time petting and feeding the giraffes, and the giraffes looked very happy to be pampered. A light lunch and it was then off to the snake sanctuary and Nairobi museum. At the snake sanctuary I came face-to-face again with the Mt. Kenya viper that greeted me during my hike. In addition one of the curators also allowed me to handle a Royal Python that soon wrapped itself around my neck. In the Nairobi museum I saw the oldest complete human skeleton ever discovered. Called the 'Turkana Boy' this skeleton dates back 1.5 million years. In the evening I was greeted with a complimentary dinner at the famous 'Carnivore' Restaurant where the only thing on offer is meat... and lots of it. Although game meat has been banned by the Kenyan government the restaurant still had on offer crocodile meat, camel meat, and deer meat. In addition I even tried some Bull testicles... it was quite chewy and I don't think I'll be trying it again in a hurry. Very happy with the day's activities I went to my hotel realizing that I couldn't wait to return to everyone at Olonana to tell them of my short excursion.
Xav
Mt Kenya pt. 2
At Shipton's Camp (4200m) I could tell that the altitude was beginning to affect many of my fellow climbers; some had headaches, some felt nauseous, others couldn't breathe properly and some even had to give up their attempt to reach the summit and hike back down the mountain. On the night of the 2nd day I was anxiously waiting to see if I would soon feel these symptoms as well, but despite an obviously quicker breathing rate I felt exactly the same as if I were on the beach (excluding the 0 degree temperature) - for this altitude tolerance I think I have the Masai Mara to thank. Working for 2 1/2 months at a surprising altitude of almost 2000m would have, no doubt, helped me greatly with my quick acclimatisation on the mountain. Nevertheless my camera was still stolen so I went to bed that night in a sour mood which was exacerbated again by the cretinous 13 year-old school children who were again discussing topics of great importance in the dormitories next to mine.
7:00 a.m. the next day and still no news about the camera, but with the absence of clouds I was afforded my very first clear view of the summit that stood 1000m above us. The drastic contrast of scenery between the grassy moorlands and what lay before me was incredible. Vertical rock faces stretched up at 400m a time made the summit look almost impossible to scale. At various points huge jagged conical shaped points stuck out either proudly by themselves or with other groups making it look as if the summit was not of this earth but rather the remnants of a meteorite that had placed itself on top of a giant hill. With the weather being so glorious I immediately felt my mood lift to one of excitement and anticipation at the opportunity to explore the areas around the summit (our climb to Pt. Lenana would start on the next day). After a hearty breakfast Nicholas and I set off on a different route that other hikers were using; the path less traveled. With the gradient increasing at every step we took and the ground changing from solid rock to shingle it became increasingly difficult to reach our intended viewing point at 4700m high. But with the anticipation of seeing some spectacular views spurring me on we reached the point only to be greeted with the arrival of an anti-social cloud that wouldn't leave for at least an hour (I know this because we waited up there for that time so that the cloud could clear). Nicholas soon suggested that we move again since the wait was proving useless and despite the number of layers we had on our muscles were starting to stiffen due to the cold. So we walked down over the other side to where there were supposed to be a couple of lakes. Sods law dictates that when we were half way down the insufferable cloud that had ruined our views had now lifted and we had our first glimpse of the beauty of the mountain. The lakes were nestled among huge rock cliffs and perfectly reflected everything that surrounded them. In the presence of this magnificent sight I completely forgot about the stolen camera which often came to plague my mind. The weather stayed like this for 6 hours and we took the full advantage of it by hiking 180 degrees around the summit to view some more spectacular landscapes. Foolishly, however, neither of us had brought a bottle of water with us and for 8 hours we had been at an average altitude of 4500m and scrambling up gradients of at least 60 degrees. The final part of our walk back to Shipton's camp nearly killed me and I passed out in my bed at 4:00 p.m. (waking up briefly to have supper).
At 3:15 a.m. the next morning we began our ascent up to Pt. Lenana, the 3rd highest peak at almost 5000m. The intention of the early wake-up call was to reach the summit in time to view the sun slowly raising from the east. The night was beautifully clear with not a single cloud present for the 3 hours that it took to climb/scramble. Furthermore the full moon bathed the mountain peaks with its silver light making some of the most eerie and beautiful silhouettes I had ever seen; it was the perfect build-up to reaching Pt. Lenana. However the weather had different plans because as soon as we reached the summit and the first rays of the morning sun had pierced the night sky I looked over my shoulder after screaming with elation at reaching the flag to see the largest cloud I'd seen fast approaching us. With a gasp of despair from me, the cloud engulfed us blocking everything that lay more than 10m away from view. Waiting for 30 minutes in hope for the cloud to disperse we eventually decided that we should start descending; my hands were turning purple under the thick gloves I had on and my feet had swollen with the cold under my shoes. 20 minutes after we started our descent Sod's law again dictated that the cloud should disperse in time for the army of school children who were now making their way up to the same point (I did take some pleasure in seeing the exhaustion in their faces and appreciating the silence that this climb was forcing on them). Nevertheless I looked up at Pt. Lenana, now clear against the blue sky, with a sense of pride at climbing the summit barely 4 months after I had painfully began to learn to walk again after an ankle injury I sustained in late November last year. We were now well on our way on the longest day of our hike: a 2000m descent walking more than 30km. The weather remained clear throughout the day so I could fully appreciate the scenery that was now surrounding me as I hiked down the Chogoria route. The landscape was the polar opposite of the Sirimon route up; instead of heaths and moorlands there were gorges and canyons with great lakes that were once glaciers of by-gone times. Half way down my ankles began to painfully feel as if they were being eroded and I was anxiously waiting to hear news on the fate of the stolen camera. As soon as there was enough signal on his phone, Nicholas made a couple of phone calls in the hope of finding some news. I sat down on a nearby rock praying for good news. No news had come. Instead my prayers were answered by a faint hissing sound coming from my shoes. Looking down I saw a bright green snake with black-colored patterns slithering on my shoe. Fortunately I'm not very afraid of snakes so I casually asked my guide the identity of this snake. With one glance Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin with fright, not because he was afraid of snakes, but because his client, who not only had his camera stolen, had also found himself at the mercy of a Mt. Kenya Viper the venom of which can be life-threatening. With this knowledge I held my breath with fear as I waited for this snake to casual make its way over my foot. Once gone Nicholas and I quickly sped away. After 13 hours of trekking we finally arrived at our destination: The Austrian lodge at Chogoria gate (2900m). Feeling ever more exhausted I passed out yet again for 15 hours.
For our final day all that lay ahead of us was a 3 hour hike to where we were to be picked up and taken to Chogoria town. I woke up to the excited sound of Nicholas telling me that he had received an anonymous phone-call saying that my camera can be picked up at a shop in Nanyuki. We had both given up all hope of ever finding the camera again and so with this news we eagerly began our hike through the bamboo forests on the East side of the mountain. Once we had been picked up it was a journey of about 3 hours to get back to Nanyuki. Anticipation was building up inside of me as we arrived in Nanyuki and approached the shop where my camera was supposedly held. The shop-keeper brought forth a black plastic and removed its contents. For the briefest of moments my heart sank as I saw a well cleaned camera placed on the desk. I thought this couldn't be the one - its too clean. But on closer inspection it turned out that it definitely was and that who ever stole it must have cleaned it up before returning it (as if in an apology). I couldn't have asked for a happier ending to this experience!
Xav
7:00 a.m. the next day and still no news about the camera, but with the absence of clouds I was afforded my very first clear view of the summit that stood 1000m above us. The drastic contrast of scenery between the grassy moorlands and what lay before me was incredible. Vertical rock faces stretched up at 400m a time made the summit look almost impossible to scale. At various points huge jagged conical shaped points stuck out either proudly by themselves or with other groups making it look as if the summit was not of this earth but rather the remnants of a meteorite that had placed itself on top of a giant hill. With the weather being so glorious I immediately felt my mood lift to one of excitement and anticipation at the opportunity to explore the areas around the summit (our climb to Pt. Lenana would start on the next day). After a hearty breakfast Nicholas and I set off on a different route that other hikers were using; the path less traveled. With the gradient increasing at every step we took and the ground changing from solid rock to shingle it became increasingly difficult to reach our intended viewing point at 4700m high. But with the anticipation of seeing some spectacular views spurring me on we reached the point only to be greeted with the arrival of an anti-social cloud that wouldn't leave for at least an hour (I know this because we waited up there for that time so that the cloud could clear). Nicholas soon suggested that we move again since the wait was proving useless and despite the number of layers we had on our muscles were starting to stiffen due to the cold. So we walked down over the other side to where there were supposed to be a couple of lakes. Sods law dictates that when we were half way down the insufferable cloud that had ruined our views had now lifted and we had our first glimpse of the beauty of the mountain. The lakes were nestled among huge rock cliffs and perfectly reflected everything that surrounded them. In the presence of this magnificent sight I completely forgot about the stolen camera which often came to plague my mind. The weather stayed like this for 6 hours and we took the full advantage of it by hiking 180 degrees around the summit to view some more spectacular landscapes. Foolishly, however, neither of us had brought a bottle of water with us and for 8 hours we had been at an average altitude of 4500m and scrambling up gradients of at least 60 degrees. The final part of our walk back to Shipton's camp nearly killed me and I passed out in my bed at 4:00 p.m. (waking up briefly to have supper).
At 3:15 a.m. the next morning we began our ascent up to Pt. Lenana, the 3rd highest peak at almost 5000m. The intention of the early wake-up call was to reach the summit in time to view the sun slowly raising from the east. The night was beautifully clear with not a single cloud present for the 3 hours that it took to climb/scramble. Furthermore the full moon bathed the mountain peaks with its silver light making some of the most eerie and beautiful silhouettes I had ever seen; it was the perfect build-up to reaching Pt. Lenana. However the weather had different plans because as soon as we reached the summit and the first rays of the morning sun had pierced the night sky I looked over my shoulder after screaming with elation at reaching the flag to see the largest cloud I'd seen fast approaching us. With a gasp of despair from me, the cloud engulfed us blocking everything that lay more than 10m away from view. Waiting for 30 minutes in hope for the cloud to disperse we eventually decided that we should start descending; my hands were turning purple under the thick gloves I had on and my feet had swollen with the cold under my shoes. 20 minutes after we started our descent Sod's law again dictated that the cloud should disperse in time for the army of school children who were now making their way up to the same point (I did take some pleasure in seeing the exhaustion in their faces and appreciating the silence that this climb was forcing on them). Nevertheless I looked up at Pt. Lenana, now clear against the blue sky, with a sense of pride at climbing the summit barely 4 months after I had painfully began to learn to walk again after an ankle injury I sustained in late November last year. We were now well on our way on the longest day of our hike: a 2000m descent walking more than 30km. The weather remained clear throughout the day so I could fully appreciate the scenery that was now surrounding me as I hiked down the Chogoria route. The landscape was the polar opposite of the Sirimon route up; instead of heaths and moorlands there were gorges and canyons with great lakes that were once glaciers of by-gone times. Half way down my ankles began to painfully feel as if they were being eroded and I was anxiously waiting to hear news on the fate of the stolen camera. As soon as there was enough signal on his phone, Nicholas made a couple of phone calls in the hope of finding some news. I sat down on a nearby rock praying for good news. No news had come. Instead my prayers were answered by a faint hissing sound coming from my shoes. Looking down I saw a bright green snake with black-colored patterns slithering on my shoe. Fortunately I'm not very afraid of snakes so I casually asked my guide the identity of this snake. With one glance Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin with fright, not because he was afraid of snakes, but because his client, who not only had his camera stolen, had also found himself at the mercy of a Mt. Kenya Viper the venom of which can be life-threatening. With this knowledge I held my breath with fear as I waited for this snake to casual make its way over my foot. Once gone Nicholas and I quickly sped away. After 13 hours of trekking we finally arrived at our destination: The Austrian lodge at Chogoria gate (2900m). Feeling ever more exhausted I passed out yet again for 15 hours.
For our final day all that lay ahead of us was a 3 hour hike to where we were to be picked up and taken to Chogoria town. I woke up to the excited sound of Nicholas telling me that he had received an anonymous phone-call saying that my camera can be picked up at a shop in Nanyuki. We had both given up all hope of ever finding the camera again and so with this news we eagerly began our hike through the bamboo forests on the East side of the mountain. Once we had been picked up it was a journey of about 3 hours to get back to Nanyuki. Anticipation was building up inside of me as we arrived in Nanyuki and approached the shop where my camera was supposedly held. The shop-keeper brought forth a black plastic and removed its contents. For the briefest of moments my heart sank as I saw a well cleaned camera placed on the desk. I thought this couldn't be the one - its too clean. But on closer inspection it turned out that it definitely was and that who ever stole it must have cleaned it up before returning it (as if in an apology). I couldn't have asked for a happier ending to this experience!
Xav
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Mt. Kenya pt. 1
It comes as no surprise to learn that the local Kikuyu community regard Mt. Kenya as the home of their God. They say "During ancient creation days, a dense cloud stood over the land as Ngai (the divider of the universe) descended to earth and made his dwelling upon the snow-capped peaks of Mt. Kenya." After having spent 5 days exploring the magnificence and beauty of this mountain I can easily understand why the Kikuyu hold it in such awe; and although I didn't find God up on Pt. Lenana (5000m high) I couldn't think of a more perfect place to make a divine dwelling. The variety of landscape and wildlife to be seen on this mountain defies believe; jungles, bamboo forests, heaths, moorlands, valleys, rock cliffs, beautiful lakes that perfectly mirror their surroundings when looked upon from any angle, and gorges reminiscent of the Grand Canyon are just a few examples of the terrain that can be encountered on this mountain. I experienced perhaps every emotion possible on this trek from awe at the mountainous features, elation at reaching the summit, anger at my camera being stolen and fear at a Mt. Kenyan Viper slithering just past my exposed shins... but more on that later on.
Since arriving at Olonana back in April I already had it in mind to scale the mountain and I was determined to see it come to fruition. After receiving permission to undertake this adventure I immediately set about trying to organize it. Fortunately luck was again on my side because a former free-lance guide at Mt. Kenya just so happens to be the head guide at Olonana. And so with his contacts and knowledge of the area, Abdul took it upon himself to organize the trip for me and he did a fantastic job.
On Saturday 11th June I bade a brief farewell to the workers at Olonana (since I was to return the next week) and set off for Nairobi to be picked up by Abdul and the A&K offices. As soon as he arrived we flagged down a Matatu that was traveling direct to Nanyuki, the town from which my hike would start. But before the trip even started I was already fearing a swift end because the heavens opened up and vomited an obscene amount of rain so dense that you couldn't see further than 5 meters in front of you. Normally I would have sat back and admired such a dramatic weather performance but when the driver is speeding at 60 kph and dodging cars at the last second whilst trying to avoid the rivers that were forming on the side of the motorway, it becomes difficult to think of anything apart from all those things that you promise yourself to do if you come out of the ordeal alive. After 40 minutes my knuckles had returned to their normal colour and the rain had cleared up in time to see the faint outline of the base of Mt. Kenya. The summit however was nowhere to be seen and if there's one thing that annoyed me on the trek it was stupid clouds ruining the spectacular landscape. Most of the time the summit remained elusively hidden from view. Thankful to be alive, we arrived in Nanyuki to meet my guide, Nicholas, who would prove himself to be indispensable to me and the chef, Francis, the name of which I took to be a good sign.
On the 12th my hike began at Sirimon gate 2650m above sea-level with the sun shining for a change. From the gate we followed the track as it winds uphill through the forest which becomes heath land after about 3 hrs, stopping on the way at the equator line to have some lunch at the exact mid-point of the Earth. Sadly the forest hid all of the game animals that were be seen on the mountain which included: elephants, leopards, antelope, zebras, and buffalo. But no matter... I'd already seen plenty of them beforehand. By mid-afternoon we had reached our first base to spend the night. It was the polar opposite of the luxury provided at Olonana; no heating, poorly made beds and dormitories that fit about 10 people. But at least it was a roof to sleep under and it would have been fine except that I had chosen to climb the mountain on the same day as an army of boisterous 13 year-old school children who were there on a trip... trying to sleep while 30 boys and girls were screaming about who fancies one-another and who kissed who was not a highlight of the trip. The next day Nicholas and I woke up early to avoid the mass exodus of school children, and we were greeted with our first breathtaking view of the distant summit as it stood proudly above us. With renewed vigour we set off on the 27 km ascent up to Shipton camp at 4200m above sea-level. The terrain was mainly grassy moorlands but as we climbed we reached some spectacular valleys that afforded tremendous views of the forests and towns that surround the mountain. Just after lunch-time, however, I had my first bit of really bad luck. Having been distracted after taking another photo I accidentally left the expensive camera that my mum had placed in my care next to the path-way and walked on (my fault, I know). But barely 3 minutes later after having discovered the camera's absence I quickly jogged back expecting to find it where I had left it, passing 7 porters along the way all of whom had said that they had not seen the camera. Needless to say the camera had disappeared at which point feelings of despair, anger, and frustration raged through me. After Nicholas and I had searched for 2 hours we came to the conclusion that one of the porters we had crossed must have lied and stolen it. With this knowledge Nicholas was determined to expose the culprit and was fully confident that the camera will be returned. I, on the other hand, was already trying to work out how best to tell my mum that her camera had been stolen. Needless to say this put a huge downer on the rest of the day, but at least I had my own small digital camera to take pictures with so at least I could still have photos of the experience. Having arrived last at Shipton's camp Nicholas immediately set about his investigation whilst I took some solice in gazing at the alien-like summit that was now looming directly over our heads.
Since arriving at Olonana back in April I already had it in mind to scale the mountain and I was determined to see it come to fruition. After receiving permission to undertake this adventure I immediately set about trying to organize it. Fortunately luck was again on my side because a former free-lance guide at Mt. Kenya just so happens to be the head guide at Olonana. And so with his contacts and knowledge of the area, Abdul took it upon himself to organize the trip for me and he did a fantastic job.
On Saturday 11th June I bade a brief farewell to the workers at Olonana (since I was to return the next week) and set off for Nairobi to be picked up by Abdul and the A&K offices. As soon as he arrived we flagged down a Matatu that was traveling direct to Nanyuki, the town from which my hike would start. But before the trip even started I was already fearing a swift end because the heavens opened up and vomited an obscene amount of rain so dense that you couldn't see further than 5 meters in front of you. Normally I would have sat back and admired such a dramatic weather performance but when the driver is speeding at 60 kph and dodging cars at the last second whilst trying to avoid the rivers that were forming on the side of the motorway, it becomes difficult to think of anything apart from all those things that you promise yourself to do if you come out of the ordeal alive. After 40 minutes my knuckles had returned to their normal colour and the rain had cleared up in time to see the faint outline of the base of Mt. Kenya. The summit however was nowhere to be seen and if there's one thing that annoyed me on the trek it was stupid clouds ruining the spectacular landscape. Most of the time the summit remained elusively hidden from view. Thankful to be alive, we arrived in Nanyuki to meet my guide, Nicholas, who would prove himself to be indispensable to me and the chef, Francis, the name of which I took to be a good sign.
On the 12th my hike began at Sirimon gate 2650m above sea-level with the sun shining for a change. From the gate we followed the track as it winds uphill through the forest which becomes heath land after about 3 hrs, stopping on the way at the equator line to have some lunch at the exact mid-point of the Earth. Sadly the forest hid all of the game animals that were be seen on the mountain which included: elephants, leopards, antelope, zebras, and buffalo. But no matter... I'd already seen plenty of them beforehand. By mid-afternoon we had reached our first base to spend the night. It was the polar opposite of the luxury provided at Olonana; no heating, poorly made beds and dormitories that fit about 10 people. But at least it was a roof to sleep under and it would have been fine except that I had chosen to climb the mountain on the same day as an army of boisterous 13 year-old school children who were there on a trip... trying to sleep while 30 boys and girls were screaming about who fancies one-another and who kissed who was not a highlight of the trip. The next day Nicholas and I woke up early to avoid the mass exodus of school children, and we were greeted with our first breathtaking view of the distant summit as it stood proudly above us. With renewed vigour we set off on the 27 km ascent up to Shipton camp at 4200m above sea-level. The terrain was mainly grassy moorlands but as we climbed we reached some spectacular valleys that afforded tremendous views of the forests and towns that surround the mountain. Just after lunch-time, however, I had my first bit of really bad luck. Having been distracted after taking another photo I accidentally left the expensive camera that my mum had placed in my care next to the path-way and walked on (my fault, I know). But barely 3 minutes later after having discovered the camera's absence I quickly jogged back expecting to find it where I had left it, passing 7 porters along the way all of whom had said that they had not seen the camera. Needless to say the camera had disappeared at which point feelings of despair, anger, and frustration raged through me. After Nicholas and I had searched for 2 hours we came to the conclusion that one of the porters we had crossed must have lied and stolen it. With this knowledge Nicholas was determined to expose the culprit and was fully confident that the camera will be returned. I, on the other hand, was already trying to work out how best to tell my mum that her camera had been stolen. Needless to say this put a huge downer on the rest of the day, but at least I had my own small digital camera to take pictures with so at least I could still have photos of the experience. Having arrived last at Shipton's camp Nicholas immediately set about his investigation whilst I took some solice in gazing at the alien-like summit that was now looming directly over our heads.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Final day at Olonana and the drive to Kampala
On my last day at Olonana I was invited by the Masai women to come and help milk their cattle in the morning, I tried my best but its harder than it looks! I then helped the women take water from Olonana (who provides clean water for the locals) to their Manyatta and as a reward for my efforts they invited me into their house for tea.Whilst taking tea one of the elders offered me to try some cow's blood, an essential part of the Masai diet. Being a vegetarian I was nervous but feeling like it would be rude to reject their offer I took a tiny cupful. Surprisingly it didn't taste too bad! In the afternoon I flew from the Mara to Nairobi where I spent the night. In the late morning I was then picked up by David and Sam (two A&K employees) and will started the 12 hour drive to Kampala. However we did not cover as much ground as we had hoped and by the time we had reached the border (the half way point) it was nearly midnight. We then decided to sleep at the border as it was too dangerous to drive and the blood was taking its effect on my stomach! We set off early the next morning and arrived in Kampala at lunchtime. The next day David and Sam headed off early on the long drive down to GFC but King had organised something else for me....I was off back to Jinja ( a town we had passed on the drive) to go white water rafting and bunjee jumping on the Nile with a company called Adrift! I was joined on the raft with a bunch of bikers from South Africa and an young english couple. We were doing surprisingly well until the last rapid where the raft flipped and we were all chucked out into the water! We all slowly scrambled back onto the boat, we had managed to tip on the smallest rapid on the route! We went to the bank for lunch after which I said my goodbyes to everyone else as they were continuing on a full day rafting trip whilst I was heading back to the base to take the jump! The nerves started to creep up on me on the short drive and by the time I was up on the platform I was more than scared, especially because I had let the instructor pick which type of jump I did, he picked a jump that ended in me being dunked into the river! I hopped onto the platform and tried not to look down but couldn't resist to take a peak of the river 44m below. the count down started and before I knew it I had taken the leap and was heading straight to the river, I was too scared to even scream but it was an amasing feeling. After a few bounces I grabbed the paddle and was dragged onto the safety boat, feeling relieved that I had done it without hurting myself in someway! Shortly after I headed back to Kampala tired after a roller coaster of a day that I am sure I will not forget for a long time. On the 16th I then flew down on a tiny plane to Bwindi on which I was the only passenger. I was met by Rogers (a GFC guide that I had met at Olonana) at the airstrip and spent the day at the tea plantation with Roger's "auntie" who during the day took the role of my mother before arriving at GFC.
Caitlin
Caitlin
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Parting Ways
Yesterday Xaver left to climb Mount Kenya with Abdul (our head guide at Olonana) and today I start on the long journey to Gorilla Forest Camp in Uganda with a flight from Olonana to Nairobi. Tomorrow I will be heading out on the 700km drive to Kampala which I will be exploring for a couple of days before flying down to GFC. Whilst in Kampala King has set me up to do white water rafting and bungee jumping which is going to be a challenge!!.....I will let you know how it goes. I have had an amasing time at Olonana and have made some great friends who I am going to miss but I am looking forward to Uganda and seeing the gorillas! I'd like to thank everyone at Olonana and of course A&K for making my time so memorable. From now on Xaver and I will be in different places from now on, so you'll now get separate weekly updates. Speak Soon,
Caitlin
Caitlin
Thursday, June 9, 2011
A Day in the Life...
On Tuesday 7th June I was given the honour by the Chief of the local village to dressed as a Masai warrior for the day and lend a hand in herding the whole village's livestock. I was determined to take no short-cuts during this day so that I could gain the full Masai experience. The previous day I was forewarned about what would be facing me: starting from 8 a.m. through to 6 p.m. I was to have no food, and no water since Masai warriors only drink milk for breakfast and eat supper when the day is done. For those who know me well, this was going to be the toughest aspect of the day. Not only that, but also I would be exposed to the weather changes that frequently alter from boiling hot one minute to fairly cool the other. All this while I wear my bright, blood red Masai warrior dress complete with beaded necklaces, sword, club, and walking stick. Furthermore I was warned that it is not uncommon for lions to try their luck in capturing one of the cattle and if that were to happen they would expect me to do my best to scare them away (I had an alternate plan of simply running in the opposite direction... seems much easier). The only two short-cuts I made that reduced the authenticity of the experience was:
1. Masai boys have to be circumsized in order to be accept as a warrior... although the offer was there for a ceremony to be arranged in my honour, I politely refused.
2. I had my doubts about surviving for 10 hours under the Masai sun without a drop of water... so I snuck under my clothes a 1/2 litre bottle of water.
So at 8:00 a.m. I emerged from my room at the staff quarters fully dressed in my Masai attire. Since many employees have never seen a white-skinned person dress in such a uniform before, their expressions were a mixture of shock and laughter... many of those who are Masai then proceeded to offer me their sisters in marriage, again I politely refused claiming 'I'm too young to marry'. I met the other cattle herders outside the camp with their livestock numbering at 140! I sudeenly felt very apprehensive about losing one of them since the cows are the Masai livelyhood. With the cows all accounted for, Twangey, John, and I set off for our day's herding. First stop was to let the cows drink water from the natural mineral lake that was close by... on the other side of the Mara River. Either we went the long way round or we could cut straight through the river. Fortunately, for the sake of fun, we chose the latter. And so, with the hippos flanking us on either side watching with curiousity we coaxed our cows to cross the fast flowing river and finally, once the cows were safely over it was our turn. Needless to say I had a great time wading through the waist high river although I tried to ignore the fact that all it takes is one slip and the river would take me straight towards a group of bathing hippos. Nevertherless we successfully crossed the river and the cows drank to their hearts content from the salt later. Only then was I told that we had to cross back over the river but fortunately everything went smoothly and nobody was lost to the irate hippos.
But that wasn't the last we saw of them. 2 hours later while walking along side a large group of trees I turned a corner to my complete surprise there was a grazing hippo barely 10 metres away. Shock had made me incapable of moving so it was down to Twange to grap hold of my arm and motion for me to run for my life... which I gladly did. Luckily the hippo was facing away from us so he wasn't aware of our presense at all. 5 minutes later when we were sure that the hippo had gone we came out of our hiding place in the bushes and carried on with our work as if nothing happened (apparently stumbling across a hippo is a common occurance for the Masai so Twange and John treated it as just another day of work... I thought much differently).
The day wore on and the sun beat down upon my skin turning it the same colour as the blood red cloth I was wearing. The sandals on my feet were hard-soled and provided absolutely no cushioning for my feet as I stood and walked constantly for 10 hours... by the end it felt as though my ankle joints had eroded away. 3 o' clock passed by, 4 o'clock passed by, and by 5 o'clock I had not drunk water for 7 hours (I was not economical with the 1/2 litre bottle). So when we came upon the spring that the Masai use to collect their drinking water I happily drank 3-4 litres of some suspicious looking water, but it tasted like heaven and I didn't mind (I have no yet suffered any side effects so far so I think I'm in the clear of not catching a disease). By 6 o'clock I shuffled my feet back to Olonana and drank more and more water and feasted on two portions of everything that night. The stamina that these Masai warriors must have to do this every day is incredible; it was harder on the boday than any sports game I've ever played so far. I was also informed that no other guest in the our area of the Mara had ever undertaken an experience like this so I felt very privileged to be the first one to break the trend. At 9 o'clock I passed out in my bed and did not wake up till 12 hours later.
Xav
1. Masai boys have to be circumsized in order to be accept as a warrior... although the offer was there for a ceremony to be arranged in my honour, I politely refused.
2. I had my doubts about surviving for 10 hours under the Masai sun without a drop of water... so I snuck under my clothes a 1/2 litre bottle of water.
So at 8:00 a.m. I emerged from my room at the staff quarters fully dressed in my Masai attire. Since many employees have never seen a white-skinned person dress in such a uniform before, their expressions were a mixture of shock and laughter... many of those who are Masai then proceeded to offer me their sisters in marriage, again I politely refused claiming 'I'm too young to marry'. I met the other cattle herders outside the camp with their livestock numbering at 140! I sudeenly felt very apprehensive about losing one of them since the cows are the Masai livelyhood. With the cows all accounted for, Twangey, John, and I set off for our day's herding. First stop was to let the cows drink water from the natural mineral lake that was close by... on the other side of the Mara River. Either we went the long way round or we could cut straight through the river. Fortunately, for the sake of fun, we chose the latter. And so, with the hippos flanking us on either side watching with curiousity we coaxed our cows to cross the fast flowing river and finally, once the cows were safely over it was our turn. Needless to say I had a great time wading through the waist high river although I tried to ignore the fact that all it takes is one slip and the river would take me straight towards a group of bathing hippos. Nevertherless we successfully crossed the river and the cows drank to their hearts content from the salt later. Only then was I told that we had to cross back over the river but fortunately everything went smoothly and nobody was lost to the irate hippos.
But that wasn't the last we saw of them. 2 hours later while walking along side a large group of trees I turned a corner to my complete surprise there was a grazing hippo barely 10 metres away. Shock had made me incapable of moving so it was down to Twange to grap hold of my arm and motion for me to run for my life... which I gladly did. Luckily the hippo was facing away from us so he wasn't aware of our presense at all. 5 minutes later when we were sure that the hippo had gone we came out of our hiding place in the bushes and carried on with our work as if nothing happened (apparently stumbling across a hippo is a common occurance for the Masai so Twange and John treated it as just another day of work... I thought much differently).
The day wore on and the sun beat down upon my skin turning it the same colour as the blood red cloth I was wearing. The sandals on my feet were hard-soled and provided absolutely no cushioning for my feet as I stood and walked constantly for 10 hours... by the end it felt as though my ankle joints had eroded away. 3 o' clock passed by, 4 o'clock passed by, and by 5 o'clock I had not drunk water for 7 hours (I was not economical with the 1/2 litre bottle). So when we came upon the spring that the Masai use to collect their drinking water I happily drank 3-4 litres of some suspicious looking water, but it tasted like heaven and I didn't mind (I have no yet suffered any side effects so far so I think I'm in the clear of not catching a disease). By 6 o'clock I shuffled my feet back to Olonana and drank more and more water and feasted on two portions of everything that night. The stamina that these Masai warriors must have to do this every day is incredible; it was harder on the boday than any sports game I've ever played so far. I was also informed that no other guest in the our area of the Mara had ever undertaken an experience like this so I felt very privileged to be the first one to break the trend. At 9 o'clock I passed out in my bed and did not wake up till 12 hours later.
Xav
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