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Africa Bound and Diani Beach, Kenya

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Operated from the Kenyaways Kite Village , the instructors are very knowledgeable and have you up and going before you know it! I was SUPing from the first go, was standing on the surf board and riding waves shortly after starting…. They lay on an incredible lunch at the end of the trip too! It has its own piece of pristine beach front and the views are to die for. There is a great water sports centre operating from here called H2O Extreme. Kinondo Kwetu also offer horse riding on the beach and yoga overlooking the sea. All three of the above places won Trip Advisor Travellers Choice awards last year. I also stayed at South Coast Backpackers when I arrived. The pool is lovely and the bar is always open. The owners are three young French guys, Kevin, Justin and Louis, who know how to show their guests a good time. Head here if you want some company and a bit of a party. The food is under-priced for the quality of cuisine that is served up! Look out for Rasta Dave came to the backpackers over a year ago to stay for a few days and never left as well as Dan Sorrell, a crazy South African full of fun who spends most nights here too. Dave the owner is very helpful and will ensure that you have a good time…. The owners Lovat and Chrissy Carnelley are warm and hospitable. They also have a small area for camping. You can find out more about tours going out to the Masai Mara etc here too. Sadly if you are planning on staying at Jungle Junction, just be aware that they had two armed robberies late Owner run, this remote retreat is set in a coconut grove away from everything and everyone! The winds are good here, so kite surfing is popular. Che Shale has its own kite surfing centre. Tailor-made safaris with a focus — photography, cultural, kitesurfing, fishing, birding — you name it, these guys can make it happen. Drop my name, he may cut you a deal…. Buy data bundles if you plan on using the 3G for browsing — you get about 10 times more out of it than using your regular top up money for data. Following my little jaunt around Tanzania, I flew from Nairobi to Malindi to meet up with Boris for a short holiday on the North Coast. Set in a coconut grove, this awesome place is filled with island style charm. After their week at sea, the boys arrived back bearded, tanned and smelling of fish. Check out their video here. We stayed in a little grass hut on the beach and had a completely relaxing 3 days in the company of Justin and his wonderful lady Isabelle. On our way back down south, we stopped in Malindi and Watamu, both cute coastal towns with a spice trade feel — the Arabic influence is strong here, with lots of Swahili architecture, and we popped into some fabric shops to purchase beautiful kikoys. Back in Diani, day to day life continued — reading on the veranda, swimming in the pool and sea, taking Pluto and Scooby for walks along the beach, spending time at Kenyaways for Friday BBQs and Sunday curries, seeing Reed for tea and meeting friends for lunch. Hard life…. Monique brought along a friend one day — a Zimbo from Shamba called Lesanne Dunlop. This resourceful young lady was backpacking round East Africa, making her way from resort to resort in exchange for taking fresh photos of their places for marketing purposes. Blady smart if you ask me! Chatted to Lesanne on the waves before I realised all of this. She was staying at Kenyaways and was photographing the place for Lindsay. We kept in touch with each other. We had a brilliant few days together, sundowners on Tiwi Beach which, after one too many Jelzin vodka coconuts, sent Ale pole vaulting into the lagoon , sunsets with Ale and Alex on the jetty, octopus braais and nights out at 40 Thieves. Just so happened that my good old friend Luke Davey was in town round this time too and it was great catching up late into the night over one too many at 40s. And so the weekend drew to a close. Boris and I headed back to Diani via the beautiful Shimba Hills and were treated to a partial solar eclipse that afternoon. From Shimoni we took a dhow out to the Wasini area where we spent the day snorkeling with GoPros. We got to see schools of dolphin and Boris was down in the water when a couple of them passed by! What a way to end my stay here on the Diani coast! Saying goodbye to the Diani crowd was a long and drawn out process. Exciting times ahead with the expectant Irish water baby in a few months. Follow your dreams whatever they may be and wherever they take you! Keep Diani tidy and in check for us please — it needs a sensible few to keep that crowd in line. Danny — my first Diani friend, did you kick my dog? Surf more, kite more and when in need of a cuddle, Boris will always be there. Thanks for opening your beautiful home to me and for allowing me to share Pluto and Scooby as pets for a few months. Wishing you windy and wavey seas, continued flip flop fetishes and a steady stream of tourists hungry for adventure — so much to look forward to! We popped into the Karen Hospital to get my bloods taken, and to have an x-ray on my neck. I was sentenced to a few sessions of physio and traction think William Wallace on the torture bed, neck shackled, feet shackled, being pulled in different directions…. Set up with a camping area, tented food stalls and full on stage, it draws Kenyans from all walks of life and it was great to see everyone living it up in such a fantastic setting. This crowd love a good party and boy did they shake a leg! Me, being the sensible type, partied hard but made sure I got my much needed beauty sleep… On the second night, Andrew Doig got hold of me, Lovat and Boris, and took us out onto the lake with his small boat just before sundown. Crate packed high with beers, we set off for a good three or four hours, careful not to knock hippos on the head with the propeller in the dark of night, this is a very real possibility , we were all on lookout. We joined everyone a short while later and had another fantastic night. The girls were fascinated by the wildlife in the area, which are in abundance and tend to cruise around without a care in the world. Boris and I left Naivasha after a rain soaked festival experience, and headed back to Nairobi for the night at Wildebeest Eco Camp before running the Nairobi-Mombasa road gauntlet…. I spent the next two and a half weeks living the life in Diani. He lives by himself on a large property with villas for his brother and father, and a guest cottage at the back. His place is just south along the beach from his Kite Surfing School at Kenyaways. The awesome little boutique resort, Kenyaways , is run by Lindsay and good friend Bruce runs the restaurant Madafoos. Reed and her catch of the day — a delicious dorado. Travellers and residents alike, this is where the fantastic little community of Diani comes together! Most of our lives revolved around Galu Beach, the beach adjacent to Diani where Kenyaways is situated. There is a fantastic German lady called Maria who does reflexology once a week and I found myself on her table more than once — I attribute the rapid recovery of my neck to her, hands down! One day my friend Reed called us up and asked us if we wanted to go deep sea fishing with her this is just typical of the life these people lead in Diani… , so Olive, Wes and I hopped on board and we sailed the big blue trawling for dorado for most of the morning. Just love this lifestyle! Most notably, my favourite restaurant was Sails at Almanara which serves amazing food by chef Luke Doig, for the most the most ridiculously reasonable prices. Ric and Valentina, from Italy, own Water Lovers , a spot that they built over 5 years ago. They have riding stables and take the horses out on moonlight rides once a month. Filip has had a skate park built at the back of their new home and was kind enough to take us all out to Funzi on his boat, so that the boys could surf and SUP. Kinondo Kwetu Trust Fund are also heading up quite a few community projects and under their trading label Mailaka Cotton. I spent many a morning twisted like a pretzel at their yoga classes with Ida and Lindsay on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Claudia and Richard run Nomads, a larger resort on the Diani stretch which also has an adjoining school — this is where all the kids of these friends go. Mark owns the microlight business and twice, when I was supposed to join him in the air, it rained buckets and the opportunity to see Diani by air was cancelled… Anina runs the local art gallery and Dan runs a farm up in the Shimbas. Everyone is a piece of this multinational and brilliant little resort town — and I love it! Mombasa blue to Diani Beach red — 23 miles 1 hour due to Likoni Ferry — see post here. Tsavo East to Tsavo West yellow — 83 miles 4 hours pole pole game drive — see post here. Tsavo West to Amboseli purple — 82 miles 5 hours — horrendous road! Amboseli to Nairobi blue — miles 5ish hours — horrible road to tar, dangerous road thereafter! Check out more photos on Facebook here. After stocking up with last minute snacks and food at Nakumatt for my day game drive, I headed down the long sultry coast road of Diani. Past the ladders above the road for the Colobus monkeys, the dreaded unannounced speed bumps, Shakatack and the sign down to Forty Thieves — how does one grow to love a place so much after such a short stay? It sounded like lightning, but the windscreen was suddenly covered in water like he heavens had opened up, but just over my car, in one truckload of water. I realised my 50l shower bucket on top of the roof rack had come loose, fallen forward onto the windscreen and smashed. My home-made shower kicked the bucket — Shimba Hills. I stopped the Beast and got out to check the damage… my shower had most definitely kicked the bucket… At this point, a truckload of locals pulls up over the horizon from behind. The driver starts shouting at me with his hands in the air, annoyed at having a vehicle in his path. I pointed slowly to my broken bucket, gave him sad eyes, and toed the area where the water had soaked into the earth there was a full on river! I carried on through a couple of small villages, waved at the passers by, old men on bikes, children walking along in groups, herdsman… but no one waved back. I made a mental note to wave from the windscreen area in future. I turned left at the end of the dirt road and made my way up onto the Mombasa-Nairboi road the section on driving this road just about needs an entire post for itself. The driving in Kenya as mentioned previously is pretty horrendous and this road, in particular, serves as the only route for ALL import and export for the whole of East Africa. The railway line for cargo is just about non-existent so everything arrives and leaves by truck — every single goddamn container-baring one of them, heading up and down this road…. Driving this road takes nerves of steel, eyes in the back of your head, timing, advanced driving skills and a massive helping of pure luck. It really is a matter of leap frogging your way around the caravan of trucks, with each overtaking opportunity resembling something like this…. I turned off the road at Buchuma Gate at the southern point of Tsavo East. I drove up the hot and dusty track towards Aruba Dam with not much game on the way. I did spot some elephant in the distance and, as you tend to do when on your first game drive after a leave of absence, shot around 20 photos of the reddy grey lumps in the distance. Aruba Dam was dry which was a bit of a disappointment as the guide book had really bigged it up. I took a smaller road down next to a river and saw more elephant, a little closer this time cue another 30 snaps of distant reddy grey lumps. The sun was hanging low in the sky so I pressed on to the public campsite for my first real night of camping. Could this be the sad deluded voice of loneliness calling me in my head? I turned to where I thought the voice had come from, lifted my sunnies and squinted to get a better look. Running towards my car is none other than Dan Sorrell my fellow Saffa and total trouble maker from Mombasa Backpackers! We had said our tearful goodbyes days earlier in Mombasa… I was there for one night and one night only, and we were the only two cars in the campsite. Dan was camping with Ivan, Anneloes and Fay so I came over and set up camp near them. We had sundowners in a dry river bed accompanied by a guide who Ivan chatted away to happily in Swahili. Watching the sun dip below the horizon whilst sipping on Patron — what a way to end the day! We had a braai in the presence of the Captain until the early hours of the morning. Awesome first night! Follow the treasure trail of coincidences over the next few posts to see how lucky I ended up. So, with cash flying out my wallet at an insane rate due to unexpected customs, parting with cash and port charges , I decide to move to a backpackers. Searching online I find a nice looking place nearby called Nirvana Backpackers sounds tranquil enough and enquired online. I also check the Lonely Planet which alternatively and rather cheerfully suggested Mombasa Backpackers …. This is a huge white mansion surrounded by lush, coconut gardens with camping areas. Note that there have been some muggings in the vicinity of the hostel. Muggings in the area? So I gave the owner David a call and he had space in a single room. As always, when arriving at a new backpacking joint, I tend to do a quick recce and mentally assess the situation. Liz showed me to my single room. She unlocked the door and as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light I saw a horde of disturbed mozzies rise up from the darkness. David is going to kill me for this, but the room is below par on all standards. The mattress was stained, the painted walls bubbling and peeling, the hole in the wall with mesh window? The bathroom next door was covered in muddy footprints, the shower curtain was missing and the plumping had seen better days decades ago. So, out came the sarong placed over the sheets, and over me, two towels beneath which I curled. I read for a bit before trying to get some shut eye, but sleep came in fits and starts due to the missing section of wall above the door. I woke every time someone slip-slopped their way down the corridor or slammed the bathroom door, then at some ungodly hour the backpackers started playing beer pong on the table outside and I was subjected to a running commentary, laughter and shrieks as the games came down to the wire. I later found out who to blame for this… Dan Sorrell. I woke early and headed back to port for the day with Paul from Multiple Solutions. Whilst searching for alternative accommodation options for that night, and just about to tall a taxi, who should walk out of the backpackers front door but Boris frikkin Polo. Now, partying with wazungu Kenyans is an event only attempted by the audacious. The party was hosted by Mike K at his stunning home in Nyali. Complete with fairy lights along the drive, open entertainment area, free bar, poolside buffet and headgear theme, it rendered itself open to a bender of note. Mombasa Party — everyone ended up in the pool. Mikey Diesbecq hopped behind the bar to give the overworked barman a hand, and things started going off-piste something chronic. We had a great night, saw too many shenanigans and decided to leave at 4am once people started getting thrown into the pool. We got back to the backpackers to find Rasta Dave and a few other guys in a similar state on the foosball table. Too much excitement for one night, I turned in. Too funny, we had a little chat and I gave him a high five through my mozi net before sending him packing. Beer pong — a favourite past time at Mombasa Backpackers. I awoke just after 9am and hand on head, walked into the bar area to purchase some much needed H2O, only to find Bruce with a Tusker in hand and blood shot eyes… still awake, still drinking. Worst still was the shriek that came from the bar. Sea urchins in feet and unsuccessful attempts at trying to persuade the local beach hotels to sell Dan bottles of rum saw us through to the afternoon. The young bloods continued their drinking marathon into the night with rounds of beer pong on the table tennis table. The following day I found Dan asleep on the concrete floor underneath the wicker sofa. The Diani crowd departed taking Izzie and Emily with them, and leaving me to fend for myself fighting the customs officials in port. Tuesday came around and once I got the Land Cruiser out of the container I headed back to Mombasa to get a few things before heading off to the parks for a week. Once in Mombasa I realised that it would be foolish to put foot flat and race up to Tsavo and so I decided to drive back to Diani and sort some kit out. I stayed with Boris over the next few days. He has the most incredible spot on the beach down the coast — a little slice of heaven. I got all the recovery gear onto a bag and taupe on the roof and cargo netted it all down. Final placing of goods in their rightful boxes and the raiding of Nakumatt for the stocking of fridge perishables and Captain Morgan was high on the list of priorities. Boris was a complete legend and kindly donated two pairs of Havaiana flip flops, the largest sticker ever displayed for the back window of my LC, and an awesome black 50l bucket which he ratcheted to the roof for showers after those hot and dusty days! Another thing Boris gave me good advice on, was the flamingo situation. I had planned on going to Lake Nakuru to see flamingos but with the rising water levels, the salinity in the water is diluted, resulting in a reduced availability of algae and so the birds have flown to other smaller lakes to source this. Due to the lack of flamingos, Boris persuaded me not to go to Nakuru but to go to Naivasha instead to see his friends and said I should try the small lake next to Naivasha for flamingos. And so, on Thursday 1st August, headed for Tsavo, I waved goodbye to Boris and the dogs and headed off into the Shimba Hills and beyond. But as the taxis arrived to take my Irish friends down the road to 40 Thieves, I had a sudden surge of FOMO, changed quickly and went with them. I will struggle to keep up with my fellow trans African bloggers who so effortlessly weave wit and humour into their notes. There is no magic instagram filter to enhance my ramblings, so you will have to put up with undisguised and ordinary accounts of daily life on the road. Packing my bag for the final time a few days before leaving I had packed it many times over in the months leading up to this moment , I realised I had completely misjudged the situation. Undoing the stacks of neatly folded items, I found amongst other completely unsuitable garments a skin hugging heavy long sleeved top and a woolly beanie! I had packed this bag in April when the temperatures were only just nibbling at 15 degrees or so. It was a stiflingly humid and sticky night in London, not dissimilar to a typical night in Africa, so I used the heat simulation situation to try to salvage my packing debacle fast! Frantically, I started trying on each piece… Like a Primark changing room on payday, I soon found myself with a heap of unsuitable clothing at my feet. My tiny expedition bag weighed a ton. Whisked to the airport by Lizzy, I said my goodbyes and proceeded with the usual process of checking in and boarding. Following a 6 hour stopover in Frankfurt, I boarded Condor air, forecast by Gemma as the type of low cost flight that would lend itself to non-reclinable seats, no food and certainly no individual seat-back screens. Fearful that I should miss a meal and not wanting to mission about sorting myself out for food , I had booked and paid and additional 15 euro for a special meal, and eagerly awaited my treat. As a solo traveler with a seat next to me, my unelected neighbour for the duration of the flight was an elderly gentleman by the name of Klaus, from Frankfurt of course, who mistakenly ended up eating my special meal I was too embarrassed to tell him that I had been given his ordinary meal. He filled the next hours with chat about Africa and his involvement in helping companies get their auditing on track. That was just the start of it. Eventually he must have grown weary of his own monologue and finally stopped talking. Some traveling I expect, but there was a real mix of old and young, and some families. Just shows how little I actually know about Kenya — clearly Mombasa is the place to be! I exchanged a bit of money at Mombasa airport and took strode out to greet my pre-arranged taxi driver. Driving from Mombasa to Diani Beach, we passed the hustle and bustle of daily life along the East Coast. For most of the journey out of Mombasa we hooted our way through the traffic, bobbing and weaving past dosey pedestrians, cart-dragging traders, clapped out taxis, noisy tuk-tuks, slow cyclists, reckless motorbikes, smelly busses and straying livestock. There are a lot of clinics and academies along the way. Healthcare and schooling seem to be a priority which is good. Tall palm trees line the road and the dwellings become more farm-like. At Ukunda we hung a left and headed further south along the Diani Beach road. Resorts line almost every inch of the way through Diani and beyond. Diani is a tourist hot spot — beautiful beaches and cobalt blue seas make it a desirable destination for backpackers and resort dwellers alike. My home for the next 5 days was South Coast Backpackers, a melting pot of travelers and volunteers. This is the type of place where people dip in and out so much, you end up calling eachother by the country from which you hail. David, a 20 year old Austrian kid is volunteering for months at a time in small remote villages playing football with the street kids and giving adults English lessons — that, my friends is incredible. The backpackers did stuff together. We sat around talking about our journeys, caught motorbikes up and down the coast multiple times a day, hired a dhow once to to swim and snorkel off the coast, crossed rivers to get to remote beaches, partied at Forty Thieves Beach Bar. For my final night, we arranged to go up to Shimba Hills for sunset which was just breath-taking. The land just dips away and you can see for miles across the escarpment. Denmark played the Cirlce of Life soundtrack whilst we all sipped on Tuskers and watched the sun set over Kilimanjaro in the distance. The Beast was due to dock in Mombasa on the 22nd July and did so horray for smooth sailing , and I am currently awaiting instructions from customs to come in and drive it out of there. Search for:. I was SUPing from the first go, was standing on the surf board and riding waves shortly after starting… Spend a day snorkeling or diving the reef at Wasini with Pilli Pipa Dhow Safaris. Grass Hut Accommodation. Beautiful Coconut Groves. Che Shale Lounge. Pool at Casa Polo. Pluto and Scooby on our Beach Walks. Favourite place to sit and read. Lunch with the Anderssons — always a pleasure! Typical scene on any given day at Kenyaways. Wildlife Works Girls. Tea with Reed and Lesanne. Nomads Beachfront. Surfing Tiwi. Kenyaways Beach Life. The Van Wageningen crowd. Sundowners at Tiwi River Mouth. Ale and the Coconut Vodka. Jetty Acrobatics. BBQ Games. Someone needs to work on their tan…. Philli Pipa Dhow off to Wasini. Snorkeling Wasini — awesome! Monique and Reed, Madafoos Diani Beach. Saying goodbye to my paradise beach. Rift Valley Festival, Lake Naivasha. Sands at Nomads, Diani Beach Kenya. Sails at Almanara, Diani Beach Kenya. Forty Thieves, Diani Beach Kenya. Villages on the way to Tsavo. Dry and parched landscape of Tsavo East. Sundowners with friends in Tsavo East. I also check the Lonely Planet which alternatively and rather cheerfully suggested Mombasa Backpackers … Mombasa Backpackers. Bruce and Boris. Mombasa Backpackers Crowd. Kenyaways Kite Village, Diani Beach. Pluto and Scooby, my new fury friends. Diani Beach South Coast Backpackers. Gale Beach, South of Mombasa. Shimba Hills, Kwale — near Diani Beach. Subscribe Subscribed. Off the Beaten Track. 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