January 28, 2011
The shrew clearly knew I was coming.
After an overnight bus from Kampala and a seven hour day time bus from Nairobi, I arrived in Mombasa in mid afternoon. I was on a third bus about to depart for Watamu anticipating a pleasantly early arrival when I discovered a problem: A bag was missing.
No, not the main pack. The hyper critical camera day pack was with me as well. What was missing was a small water carrying waist pack that, in recent weeks, I had been clipping to my day pack while in transit. The only significant item in the pack was a pair of easily replaced sun glasses. No big deal except for one thing: The waist pack fixes an ergonomic flaw with the camera backpack. Without the waist pack supporting the camera gear's weight on my hips, I can not carry the camera bag for long periods. My prior experience with a much simpler day pack made me doubt the viability of replacing the bag in country.
The bus company, of course, didn't find my pack. The staff probably didn't even check the right bus (if they checked anything at all). I steeled myself for a night in Mombasa and a likely futile search through one of more of Mombasa's modern suburban shopping malls.
But first, I went to a nearby region of downtown Mombasa that a taxi driver, eager to collect a fare for a short trip, was sure contained a shop that had exactly what I needed. He was wrong, of course. But on the walk back, I quite accidentally stumbled upon a large Kelty dual water bottle waist pack. I bought it immediately. I'm not sure that it works as well as the old pack but at least it is decent quality.
I lost nearly three hours but the I still made it to Watamu. The shrew would have to do better. Late at night, as I was pulling items out of the main pack, I discovered that I had somehow picked a passenger: a giant centipede, at least three inches long and a big around as a pencil. He tried to bite my foot but didn't get enough purchase to achieve more than detection.
Next day was pure recon.
I discovered that Watamu is a lousy place for food. This is very surprising. Beach towns usually have good food although it tends to expensive for the region. Watamu, though, offers only nutritionally deficient grills and devastatingly expensive Italian restaurants.
And I found that diving in Watamu is more expensive than anywhere else I have been short of California.
The next morning, in a case of unadulterated shrew strike, the town's only ATM ate my card. I was annoyed but not deterred. I decided that I my cash supply could hold me through the next day when the machine could be opened. I resumed course to my hotel adjacent to Arabuko Sokoke National Park. (Curiously, I wouldn't have found this place if the failure of local cell coverage hadn't forced me to get answers to my park questions in person)
That evening I met my nemesis: The Golden-Rumped Elephant Shrew. Previous efforts of deterrence having failed, all that remained was the coat and behavior of a small insectivore in the underbrush. The “golden” rear end matches flickering light and dry leaf liter. The rest of the shrew is dark as shadow and just as difficult to focus on.
At night, the issues were too human and too familiar to blame on the shrew. In Kibali, the guides lacked practice. In Arabuko Sokoke, there had been only two night walks in the last six months. I had to teach my guide the eye shine method for finding nocturnal animals. I snapped only two frames of the bush babies and neither was any better than I managed in Uganda.
Next morning was unguided and low-key. I caught some better photo ops of the elephant shrew, sighted the first hornbill of the trip, and the expected Sykes monkeys and baboons. For the next night walk, I decided to take my guide up on his offer of a visit to the Gedi Ruins at night. Since the ruins are not within walking range of my hotel, I decided to relocate back to Watmu.
It is a good thing that I did because the shrew affiliated ATM ate my credit union card again. Then it ate my eEtrade card twice. I was finally able to retrieve cash using my expensive BofA card. I also got the swallowed cards back but the process would never have worked as a day trip from the park.
The Gedi ruin night walk was slightly better than before. I did manage one passable photo of a bush baby but it was only just passable. No bush babies were seen exiting from the structure where they were said to live. Later I learned that a piece of the ceiling had fallen out a few months ago. It seems likely that the site was abandoned at that time.
That left only the expensive diving. I must say I was actually rather impressed with the site. I haven't seen coral so vibrant since the Red Sea. In spite of my camera being stuck in wide-angle, I have good photos of nudibranchs and unexpected visitors: dolphins. At $120 for two dives, though, a second day was out of the question.
And I didn't have the time anyway. My flight was scheduled for just after midnight on the 26th. I had one day less than I had thought. After the dive, I headed down to Mombasa. I spent the night there to get some good food for a change and because I prefer to sleep in beds rather than buses.
With one overnight remaining, I bused to Nairobi, arriving in late afternoon. The plan was to book an easy day trip to Nairobi National Park for my final morning before fly out. I expected a slam dunk. Unfortunately, the shrew wasn't done with me. By the time I learned that the hostel had nothing going, it was too late to book with other operators. Other options required even more advance planning so I spent most of my last day at the hostel, venturing into the CBD for lunch.
Snow covered the ground when I landed in Zurich, some 18 hours
later. I thought of my tropical clothing and about passing through
immigration and security. It might have been nice to touch the snow
but I stayed inside and waited for the long flight to San Francisco.
Which brought be here and a wrap for Another Mad Trip. And perhaps
more than that. Madagascar was intended to be the second pillar of
Africa. For the nine years that followed, it was the great
adventure that could not yet be done. Now that it is done no trip
can be justified as a substitution. All must stand alone.