The flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi was a painful nine hours. I'm not sure which made me more miserable, the guy behind me whom would hit my seat every time I started to fall asleep or the lady beside me whom was extremely comfortable with sharing my personal space. None of this mattered anymore once the captain announced our final descent into Nairobi.
When we touched down at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport I had no idea what to expect. As we walked out the door of the plane there were just a set of stairs leading down to the tarmac. We were then directed to a bus that was completely crammed with people, standing room only. Suddenly sharing a bit of my personal space on the train didn't seem so bad. Let's call this preparation for things to come. While waiting in line for our travel visa, all the lights in the room went out for about five seconds. It caught me off guard at first, but I wasn't too concerned because none of the immigration officers even looked up from their computer screens. It seemed like this happens often.
We were greeted at baggage claim by two young Kenyan men holding a sign with the names of our group members. They helped us retrieve our bags and quickly led us through a second section of security checks and out a set of glass doors which were guarded by armed soldiers. As we exited the airport it was like an altered version of walking the red carpet at a movie premier. There were hundreds of what I'm assuming were taxi drivers behind a metal barrier, most of them holding signs with names written on them.
We crossed a busy street into a parking lot where we were met by Elizabeth, our Me to We facilitator, and headed to a unique old bus. After about forty five minutes of dodging oncoming traffic and slowing down for a ridiculous number of speed bumps, we arrived at Karen Blixen Coffee Gardens; a resort pulled right from the Kenyan history books. We went inside and were greeted with a glass of fresh juice. As I looked around at the hand made furniture and the antique decor, this was the first time it really hit me that our African adventure had begun.
Dawn, Alyssa and I made our way to the bar in hopes of finding some late night Kenyan food but we were a bit too late. The waiter was still more than happy to serve us up our first round of Tuskers while we took in a bit of a World Cup game and tried to wind down from our full day of travel. The smell of dinner was still lingering, mixed with the aroma of smoke from a hookah being enjoyed by a lone woman in the corner. I could have sat in that bar all night and anticipated what the next ten days had in store for us. Unfortunately, morning will come soon and we will be flying down to the Bogani Cottages and Tented Camp in Masai Mara.
Note: Morning came four hours later for me. 5 a.m.
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