Jambo!! New Year in Watamu, Kenya

The day after my parents left I hopped on a plane to Mombasa in Kenya. A couple of hours drive north up the coast took me to the village of Watamu. I had not really known what to expect and I was not disappointed. When I arrived the sun was just setting over the beach of white sands and clear blue water. The girls had the wine chilled and poured me a welcome glass before we ran into the water for a twilight dip. On the first evening we went out for Italian food – a real treat as there’s not much of it in Kampala really. After satisfying our appetites we decided to go down to the local bar, where we danced with Masais and watched the acrobats perform! We have some classic photos of Masais in traditional dress complete with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and a mobile phone stuffed down the front of the skirt. There’s not too much to tell you about the days as they were just the usual sun holiday – chilling on the beach and swimming in the sea. I missed the Christmas treat of camel rides, but think I can live without it anyway.

For New Year’s Eve we had grand plans of going into the bigger town of Malindi. When we got there we soon found out that the better parties were going on in Watamu – where we had just come from! So after dinner we hotfooted it to the nearest offie, stocked up on vodka and bottles of bubbly and went home. Now we had no real plans, since the party at the British hotel (which was full of, to quote an Aussie friend, pompous arse pommes, and I will not disagree with her) cost well over a hundred quid and the other alternative was equally pompous arse Italians (or Spaghetti people as the locals referred to them) who were afraid to get on the beach and sully their precious Gucci bikinis. So we made our own party, and just before midnight, followed the crowds down to the place where they were going to set off the fireworks. As midnight struck, we were the only muzungus on the beach and were surrounded by Kenyans, whilst all the tourists refused to stray from the safety of their hotels. We swigged the bubbly from the bottle and watched the fireworks. Later on in the evening, as things were starting to get a little more messy, we strolled into the Italian resort, dancing g barefoot, rather than in 3 inch heels and dived into the pool fully dressed to the horror of those around us!

I had hoped to go on a dolphin safari trip where you get to go snorkelling and possibly swim with dolphins. Sadly for me, the boat drivers chose that time to go on strike. Instead I witnessed mini-riots on the beach, with the boat drivers and the police exchanging sharp words in Swahili. Since this was cancelled I decided to take myself off souvenir shopping and picked up a couple of paintings and some kikoys and kangas ( different types of Kenyan sarongs basically). I had also ordered some flip flops, but when I went to collect them I found they had been sold to Spaghetti People!