A tropical island, 2 degrees south of the equator, part of the ancient trading route and a cocktail of different cultures.
It is quite conservative – I covered my knobbly knees to walk the streets due to the large number of muslims – but everyone is very friendly and the whole place is busy, busy, busy. We wandered down ancient laneways, even more narrow and winding than Zanzibar’s, and would have got lost except for the tiny size of the ancient city. Sitting by the water side and watching the kids swim amongst the old dhows and the young men wrestling and tossing each other in was fun.
The minuscule and pokey shops behind enormous carved solid timber doors inlaid with brass were fun to investigate. Struggling artists flogging their tourism-themed paintings and postcards to the rich white tourists, of which we were two of only about about eight that we saw on the whole island.
Georgie got quite frustrated because she couldn’t get anyone to give her a cuppa tea with cold milk, it seems it’s an African thing to boil the milk first. A yucky taste she reckons. I dunno, tea is pretty yucky stuff to start with if you ask me…
We stayed there the night before Ramadan, when everyone was indulging heavily before the coming fasting, and oh boy was it noisy! Party party party late into the night, the cacophony of multiple blaring stereos in the street below coupled with the revelry in the bar above our room (one of only two licensed alcohol venues) made for a somewhat raucous evening.
The wharf was just outside our room and well before the Sun peeked its glare above the mangroves the fishermen were calling to each other and revving their two stroke outboards.
It is a place out of another century, except for the outboard motors. People ride donkeys down the stone streets, and only the governor has a car. Everything runs on Lamu time, which is even slower than Africa time. The place doesn’t have quite the same gruesome history of slavery like Zanzibar, and is much smaller in every respect, but it was a very busy trading hub in times gone past, harvesting mangrove poles for house and ship building. The wooden boats moored along the water front hark back to another century.
Our flight out of Lamu was delayed four hours – oh well, TIA, This Is Africa. Hakuna matata.
Were those solar panels on the poles along the waterfront?
Yes, the street lights along the waterfront in Lamu are all solar. Big change from when I was last there, when the only electricity was from a generator, which was turned off at 11pm every night. G
So like a mini-Zanzibar! Just love it. Another one to add to the list!
Do you have an email I can use – have some news to tell you about?