Photography
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Bodrum: Party Town Or Ancient Treasure?
Sometimes it’s a strange feeling, saying goodbye to an airbnb host who lives on the premises. For a few days your lives have crossed, your stories have entwined, and then you move on, knowing that those paths will never cross again. Our host at Datça, a tiny elderly guy named Bulent, shows real kindness by driving us across the peninsula to the ferry point, then caps it all by parting with warm heartfelt hugs on the quay. Bye mate, and thank you. In order to reach Bodrum the ferry at an hour and 45 minutes is a much better choice than three hours by road, especially with the sea flat…
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Across The Border: From Zambia To Zimbabwe
All we ask Caroline at the lodge for is a taxi to the border. What we get is a driver named Steven who does that bit, but also chaperones us through the slightly confusing Zambian exit system and then drives us over the Victoria Falls Bridge as far as Zimbabwe immigration where he points out a smiling guy in a blue T-shirt. The smiling guy is Kenny, and before we know it we’ve skipped the line, got the obligatory stamps in our passports and been driven to the very door of our next stay. Expert courier service for the price of a taxi. It’s how it is here: service repeatedly…
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Livingstone: Thrills And Adrenaline At The Victoria Falls
We arrive in the town of Livingstone with high expectations and an even higher level of excitement, yet as we are welcomed into our digs by the ultra friendly staff we have no indication of just how many thrills the next few days will bring. Once in a lifetime experiences are, unbeknown to us, lurking in the trees. Our first glimpse of the waters of the Zambezi is as the mighty river swings around to come alongside the road, its calm waters feeding lush greenery on either side in total contrast to the surrounding tinder plains. The surface looks solid, glasslike, mirroring the cloudless sky, serene enough to kid the…
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Beneath The Great Plateau: Exploring The City Of Zomba
It’s noticeably more chilly here, both after sundown and in the morning. We are now in Zomba, former capital of Malawi, where the town sits at around 1100m above sea level, some 600m higher than Cape Maclear on the shores of Lake Malawi. Days are hot but darkness calls for an extra layer and long trousers and at breakfast time there is a pleasant freshness to the air. Our paths cross once again with the history of Dr Livingstone, and will continue to do so as, more by coincidence than by design, we trace sections of the great man’s journey through Central and Southern Africa. Here in Zomba his presence…
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Lake Malawi Days
It went on for a bit longer. The very friendly guy who smiled as he told us he’d given our room to someone else, WhatsApps after a couple of days to say that the usurping guests have extended their stay for a night and we still can’t take our original booking. When we do eventually move to Tranquilo after three nights away, it’s immediately obvious that our temporary billet was far superior to the one we’re now at – and given that we had, of course, refused to pay the difference, we’d inadvertently got ourselves a real bargain. Tranquilo has clearly seen better days, and what’s more, the dusty outdoor…
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Into Malawi: A Range Of Emotions In The Warm Heart Of Africa
Once we’ve left Mombasa behind en route to Malawi, Kenya springs one last surprise: the sight of the mighty Kilimanjaro which eluded us throughout our time in Amboseli. There, at last, it is, its unmistakable white peak clearly visible from the aeroplane window, perhaps not quite as majestic as seeing it from ground level, but….well, we’ve seen it at last! A few hours later, and via a flight connection in Nairobi, we are taking our first ever steps in Malawi, the tinder dry landscapes around the airport dotted with crisp shrubs, leafless frangipane and patches of burnt earth. The route to the capital city Lilongwe seems to be 40 minutes…
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Last Call In Kenya: Mombasa, Its History And Its Surprises
We start our Monday without a clear idea of how we’ll get back to Mombasa from Diani but we’re pretty confident that it won’t be complicated. As it turns out, it couldn’t be easier: Uber, rumoured to be sketchy in terms of reliability, works fine and there’s a driver just four minutes away, the quoted rate is unbelievably cheap, traffic is light even at the ferry point and we are in our hotel reception in Mombasa at the ridiculously early time of 10:30am. And just when we think serendipity is done for the day, our room is ready, we’re able to check in straight away, and we’re out exploring our…
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Beneath The Surface: An Alternative Diani
“You sit here Papa”, someone said on one of our first nights in Kenya, “Mama you sit this side with the lovely view”. It’s become a theme – for those who don’t call us by name we are universally addressed as Mama and Papa, which is apparently the normal moniker for an adult couple in Swahili English. They are genuinely surprised to learn that in our world you only use such names for your parents. If there is a single word which we hear more than “Papa”, “pole pole” or “hakuna matata” when we get into conversation here, it’s “corruption”. Mistrust is rife. La Gusta is an excellent beach bar…
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Diani Time: Mishaps & Monkey Business
Sometimes you know you’ve just had a stroke of luck. Our apartment in Diani is small but has a lovely outdoor space, in fact the “outdoor lounge” is as big as the interior. Today is boat trip day, Amos the boat trip man (who by the way calls himself Amos The Great) is picking us up at 7:30 so we’re awake early and just getting our stuff together. I’m at one end of the apartment with my back to the door, Michaela is tidying up the bed when I turn around to talk to her and come face to face with, right behind me in the doorway and about to…
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From The Plains To The Sea: Arrival In Diani & Reflections On Safari
We’ve been in Stanley’s company for over a week, our different lives thousands of miles apart thrown together by circumstance, and saying goodbye at Voi train station feels disproportionately poignant. “You going home today after your long week, Stanley?” “Oh no, don’t remind me of that” he says, “it means that I won’t ever see you again”. For a brief moment he actually appears to be welling up. It must be dust in his eye, surely. Stanley has been a good guy. He talks to the animals out of the minibus window, tells us what he thinks the animals are thinking, and, when he spots a dead bird seemingly killed…
