The Coast of Africa - most Engaging!

An Amble down the coast of Kenya and Tanzania

The motorcycle made the usual clicking and pinging noises as it cooled down parked just behind me. Hours of riding in the heat is a bit hard on the bike but judging by the view, I thought it was well worth it. My riding gear hastily discarded was in a heap somewhere behind me and it was a slice of heaven gazing on this view and feeling that warm tropical breeze blowing through my hair - or what I have left of it. I sat and contemplated life for a bit thinking that with 61 years on the planet, I have to say it's going pretty well.

Having been in this country for about 8 years I can now do proper adventuring knowing where to go and not go ... or so I thought.

The pavement, dirt and gravel roads rolled by predictably as I traveled East to the Indian Ocean. I then turned the Yellow Bimmer south and crossed the Lunga Lunga borer into  beautiful Tanzania. A 3 hour interlude at the border passed quickly as I had expected it to take much longer. In all 7 "officials" reviewed my request and paperwork before I was finally given the ok. Naturally each "official" stalled hoping for a payout... but as I was on holiday and made it clear that I was in no rush,  they reluctantly moved it along. Even the parking lot security guard delayed me with the threat of the AK hanging casually from his shoulder. My Mama taught me to never argue with a 20 year old kid with an AK47 so 20 minutes was spent in that small battle of wills. I won - again. No pay today Baba! Thanks Mom! ( in truth she always said stand up to bullies but that advice didn't consider the possibility of machine guns so I'm ad-libbing a bit here)

Tanga Tanzania finally greeted me as I paused for a SIM card and fuel. The road ahead looked pretty straight forward and with a sleeping bag, tent and credit card, what trouble could I possible get into?

500 meters out of Tanga, the road went to mud. You see - it's the rainy season so most "African Roads" (dirt roads) become marginally passable. Intoxicated with the spirit of adventure and running high on the carefree nature of the trip so far, I went ahead anyway.

An hour in and at the point where the mud was over my boots, I pulled over and had a talk with myself. Dumb ass was the name I called myself. Checking my GPS naturally there was no signal so no idea where I was. I continued regardless coming across a couple young men lounging under an Acacia tree. Knowing English was unlikely I mangled a couple phrases together drawing on my crappy Swahili skills. I let then know I was going to Pagani. and asked how far it was? 3 hours was what I got back. "It's bad" I asked, meaning the road - "very" they replied.

3 hours in this mud, with an uncertain outcome? Hell that's nothing - onward!!!!

Tanga just before the Mud show.

I've said it before and say it here again. "Fortune favors the brave" and it was no exception on this day. Tired and muddy, I finally found the most beautiful campsite near my destination. There was no one else at the site, but was greeted warmly by the staff and quickly served cold beers (called Kilimanjaro - what else?) and grilled King Shrimp. My tent set up next to the ocean - I was again enjoying a slice of heaven.

Even more Engaging on the African Coast
 

 

 

 I spent a couple nights on the couch after telling Essie that I was taking my motorcycle to the coast for a week while she would be remaining in Nairobi. She had work of course, but still was absolutely pissed that she would be missing out. "Let's not talk about it" was her final remark on the subject.

On the morning of my departure, I woke her up and let her know our good friend Andy would look after Cleo and her tickets to the coast were on her email. It took a good 60 seconds before she "came to" with a "what???? "What about work she said?"  -  taken care of I said ... see you there 😀

 

 

My Side

Her Side

 

 Almost 4 years ago I had my first date with Essie and from that day on we've enjoyed a serious set of adventures and times grinning and laughing along the way. If asked, I would be hard pressed to tell you exactly why she's the one. It's a question that's hard to explain in words, but only felt. She makes me feel calm, peaceful and loved. There have been disagreements, cultural differences and the inevitable challenges life tosses into your path. Also we are different people as clearly evidenced by the above pictures of her side and my side in the bathroom. But she is the one I would like to share my life with.

 

 

 

  

 

  

 

 

I asked the hotel staff to photograph the event on the beach so that I could capture the moment. Also, I wanted to catch her off completely off guard so that she didn't have a chance to think it over. It was a perfect sabotage! She did not see this coming on this day. 😁😁

 

Seemingly immune to the dark forces of marketing and modern conventions she picks her life path on her own terms. Tougher than Titanium and with more integrity than Ghandi, I have fallen deeply in love with this amazing woman. I'm just so happy that she picked me and said Yes!!

 

 

The Majengo Kids at Malezi School

 

 

Our Supplier Joy and her kids helping out!

 

 

Many thanks to Joy and her kids for putting together our latest order for the school. We spent $450 Canadian Dollars on this order which will feed over 200 children for the next month or so. Many Thanks to Andy and my Mom for their recent very generous contribution, it is greatly appreciated. As info I am well into my own savings for the project and while not uncomfortable with that - if you can share $50 it would be really helpful!!

  

I leave Teacher Grace to do the heavy lifting while I take selfies!

Teacher Grace and the food in her office.

If you would like to donate to help hungry kids - you can email me to chat about it or do so through:

MPESA -- +254745237248 (Kenya)

Or interact -- Laynemahon@live.com (Canada)

 

 

 

 

  Thanks for reading ....Layno now off the market!!!

Super Sensational Scotland

 

 

 

 

As we trudged up and down the rolling streets of Central Edinburgh, John stopped me to point out the most photographed scene (above)  in all of Scotland. Well - that is likely true, but I'm here to say there is an abundance of runners up for this particular honor. The city is filled with postcard views that are as beautiful as a 24 year old cask strength single malt scotch. More on that later 😆

As it was - John - always the perfect host, was kind enough to invite me to Scotland for the fringe festival. This plan was hatched a year or more earlier over one too many beers. Thinking it was just "pub talk" imagine my surprise when it actually came together. This is due in large measure to John's kindness and his knack for making people feel authentically welcome in his life. His partner Petrina was equally charming and hospitable - in fact the perfect host! With over 3000 live performances to view it was all about getting in as many as possible. What a Grand time we had. From "feel good" musicals to quirky "off the wall" sketch comedy - it was the epitome of fine entertainment.

My Mom says there's and expression that goes like this - "after 3 days overnight guests will start to smell a bit like fish".  My hope is that my stay was not fishy in the least and I certainly wasn't made to feel that way. Many thanks to John & Petrina.

 

I was to be in Scotland Saturday afternoon but the good people at Qatar Airlines saw things differently. Easier, they reasoned, to put me in a hotel and make best efforts to ruin my well-earned vacation by holding my flight for 24 hours. Ha!!! - the joke is on those would-be demons as I - as an experienced traveler - was ready and in fact excited to have a full day in the good city of Doha. 

No luggage? - no problemo  - I'll wash my fast dry travel cloths at night.

Shitty hotel? - no problem - I've enjoyed much worse. 

Lousy food? - I can survive on humus alone! 

Nice try Qatar Airlines - you've met your match!!!!

Above, the Islamic Museum of Modern Art invited me into an amazing space & experience. If only a cup of coffee was not $12!!!

 

 

 

 

 

These 2 pictures above taken only a few days apart, do illustrate the stupidity that I inherited/ learned from my father. Why pay $5 for an Uber when you can walk the 30 minutes in 42 degree weather down to the waterfront Cornish. 

On the right, cool and composed and enjoying the beautiful sun.

On the left, midway into my walk cursing both my father and the fucking sun.

THE HIGHLANDS

 

As John effortlessly pilots the Land Rover (what else?) through the narrow countryside I marvel at his driving skills and the narrowness of the roads. The roads are lined with rocks that look like they have been there forever and likely have. Beautiful green hillsides dotted with snowy white sheep are framed by the ubiquitous roadside Elm trees. This country is sensationally beautiful or as they say "Grand"!

 

 I can't thank John enough for driving me around this amazing country and most importantly staying sober so that I could indulge in a dram or 9 at Dewar's/ Aberfeldy in the highlands. The kilt - when we met - -was an unexpected bonus. 😀

What a treat to visit a real distillery and sample a true nectar drawn straight from the bosom of Mother Nature herself. The 24 year old cask strength single malt was as close to magic and heaven as it gets. Drams so delicious as to draw the Monks from their robes and Pastors from their pulpits. Good gravy Miss Daisy that-there is some fine brew!!!!

GLASGOW

 

 

 

Next on the Agenda was catching the train to Glasgow. Legend has it that my Great Grandfather hails from here and worked in the family bakery before coming to Canada. The photo above is the closest I came to finding the Good-All bakery owned by the Orr family so long ago. Maybe that's the place and maybe not. I like to think  it is. 

It was a nostalgic tour that resulted in a delicious do-nut at "A bakery" and not "The bakery". Rather, a chain of bakeries called Greggs that dot this part of the word like chicken pox on a 10-year old.

Below is the train station that has been there since the streets were marked in Roman numerals. Had my Great Great Grandfather walked through here on his way to the adventures that became his life in Canada? Again - I like to think so. Paying a bit of homage to those who brung ya is the least I can do.

Cleo continues to be amazing for a dog without hips joints.There's no pain and she gets along pretty well AND has no problem getting under the couch 😁

If you would like to donate to help hungry kids - you can email me to chat about it or do so through:

MPESA -- +254745237248 (Local)

Pay Pal -- laynegmahon@gmail.com (International)

Or interact -- Laynemahon@live.com (Canada)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading....Layno on his way to Glasgow on a train in Scotland!!!

A protest? What's it like anyway?

 

 

It's about 8:22 am 2 days after rioting in Kenya. Responsible for the security of some 2000 staff, I think about the newest piece of information that has just been shared.  A pickup truck surrounded by school children carrying a freshly killed young man is touring the the neighborhood.

Ok - I'm thinking now ......  the school children are to prevent the police from firing live bullets -- something that has been going on for 2 days. And the kids are also being used to to dissuade the police from firing teargas, a smell that is now more familiar to me than freshly baked bread.

Now - questions to answer -- why was the young man killed and how much impact will that have as the convoy attempts to garner sympathy and support. And were are they going. Will there be more bullets flying?

The young man was killed along with 2 others (apparently) as they tried to steal steel from the railway station down the road. The stations' building material was 'made available' from the chaos 2 days earlier. The convoy is likely headed to the police station next to our facility in an attempt to send a "see what you did now" message.

"What are we doing Layne" -- ask a couple of team members.

The threat seems mild but still -- 

Ok - let's hold all incoming staff vehicles. Tell them all to shelter in place. Get on the group application and tell them to move to a gas station or other safe place and wait for permission to enter the slum. Lock the gates and make sure no one leaves the facility without permission to do so. 

Decision made - now I hope it's the right one.

It wasn't -- the convoy disbanded quickly and the threat evaporated nearly as quickly as it had appeared. Fuck!

This example is one of many that has to be made over the last few days. Historically, the protests have been noisy teargas scented festivals with little violence --  but this last one was different. The good news - no one on our team was hurt. That's the main objective.

However there were 10 dead that have been publicly identified- countless citizens injured - and many more arrested. Thugs and looters quickly took what they could leaving businesses and individuals so much the poorer in terms of stuff and their sense of fairness and personal security. Sadly.

 

On the July 12 protest (this is about the 6th over a number of months)  I would like to share my own experience.

We held team members in one of our depots from 16:00 to 17:30 due to the teargas and sounds of gunfire all around us. Intel I received at 17:00 was;

• Gunshots are blanks to disperse crowds
• Street are clear to the main exits of the slum
• Passersby are not in danger as the protest is directed at police/ Government Institutions
•  The protest is losing momentum quickly and people are heading home
  

Staff released on on their way home, it was time for me to go home.

I had left my motorcycle at home given the possibility of insecurity so I eased the Rav4 out into the slum through our big blue gates. I had had a reconnaissance on the neighborhood done 15 minutes before and had been told that all was clear. All looked well as I moved slowly along the street littered with rocks garbage and discarded clothing. People walked in the center of the street with no thought to the motorcycles whizzing about them. The air thick with the smoke of burning tires and teargas.

 

Squinting through tears and the windshield I saw a man ahead walking toward me carrying a Panga (Machete). As I watched he swung half-heatedly at an old man passing on a bicycle hitting only the handlebars. Suddenly our eyes met and I'll never forget the murderous look in those eyes and the almost zombie-like movement of his body as he moved toward the car. I swerved quickly around him and hit the gas knowing for sure that all was not well. Ahead of me the road closed up with hundreds of people yelling, thicker smoke, more fires  and rocks flying.

A note on throwing stones. Somehow when I think of throwing stones, my mind travels to skipping stones on a pond ... not the fist sized boulders that are used in a protest like this one. This was a wake-up call for me.

I suddenly realized that I wouldn't make to the turn ahead. The road was completely blocked and closing in behind me. Many of the crowd turned to look at my panic stricken expression. Many started shouted warning and hurried instructions to get me turned around and moving away from the fighting. I'm very thankful for their assistance.

A side street was clear so I made the turn and crept along as people funneled around me. If I hit someone it will be a very very bad situation indeed. It's incredible how strong the temptation to just hit the gas at a time like that can be. Horn honking and moving slowly I was closer to peeing my pants than anytime since I was 7. At the end of the road there is a turn to the right. Having made it that far I thought I was in the clear. The photo below is not mine - nor are the ones above, but the one below was similar to what was ahead of me as I turned that corner. Fuck!

 

 

 

Four tires burned in front of me blocking the road completely. A truck passed me as I viewed the road ahead. I watched fascinated as the truck drove directly through the flames careening wildly over and around the bricks and rocks on the road. A car coming toward me was swerving wildly driving over the big bricks, the car clearly damaged from that fear-driven journey

I hit the gar and drove through the fire and into the boulder field. All those years of playing Gameboy Tetris paid off as I saw a path ahead. Into a shallow ditch - parking lot - more burning tires -- I was getting there. At one point rocks stopped the car. I tried to work around but I was stopped and getting out of the car was not an option. A man suddenly ran over and pushed the boulder out of the way. Another kind soul. Just ahead power lines were across the road with the pole leaning precariously. No choice. The lines miraculously slide over and around the car as I came to another intersection. On my right, the protest was raging and a police anti riot squad blocked my path. Hand on the horn I continued forward and they parted to let me pass. The look of complete terror likely persuaded them to do so. Lastly in an act of divine intervention 1 Layne got to the 4 lane highway. It was strewn with cars crisscrossed moving in all directions even though it was a one way road. Complete Chaos. 

I made it through and later stopped to wipe the pee off the seat 😉 That was a bit too close even for a fairly adventurous soul like myself.

There are more protests planned for next week. I think I'll bring a sleeping bag and bag or 2 of Doritos and a few KitKats.

As a reminder - I support hungry kids in the slum and if you want to donate - I will not spend the money on Doritos or Kit Kat Bars

If you would like to donate - you can email me to chat about it or do so through:

MPESA -- +254745237248 (Local)

Pay Pal -- laynegmahon@gmail.com (International)

Or interact -- Laynemahon@live.com (Canada)

 

 

Thanks for reading....Layno somewhere along The Great Rift Valley!!!

I

 

Only the sky was dark and brooding

Sometimes in life the journey is the destination. I'm of two minds on that philosophy. 

First - let's say this. The idea of riding a motorcycle through the back roads and game trails in South Eastern Kenya is not for everyone - but for me - it is as close to heaven as one can get. Rumor had it that you could leave Nairobi and stay off the paved roads for most of the way to the beautiful Indian Ocean. Improbable in my view, was the risk of bandits, breakdown just as a Lion decided it was lunch time, or just getting lost. Let's give it a try!

While one might think safety or mechanical reliability would be the first consideration. Nope - it's making sure your bummy is comfy for hours upon hours of riding in the hot sun. That said - my first visit was to Njorge in Limuru for a fresh sheep skin. 

He quickly chose the right one and with the skill of a long time sheep skin fabricator -- cut it to fit perfectly with the little sheep leggy parts tucking under my seat. Essie, ever supportive of my adventurous spirit complained bitterly about the smell and made me keep it on the porch. Imagine! Maybe it was a bit too fresh.

Next was to find a way through Amboseli National Park. This required a few phone calls to fellow adventurously enthusiastic travelers and a name and number was provided (Thank you Kamau & Steve).  There would be no signs along the way  - just rough directions and instructions to just "ask the locals". Right - that should do it!

The locals were ever so helpful and the kids happy to assist in the business of guiding this Mzungu (white guy) through their land. Though I felt that my big yellow motorcycle was pretty intrusive juxtaposed alongside mud huts and sand, there was no animosity  - just the warm Kenyan welcome that I have come to enjoy so much.

The next hours were like watching a movie with a sore ass. At one point, half dozen Giraffes ran along beside me with that majestic gallop while at the same time, I carefully negotiated my way through herds of Zebra and Antelope that seemed unconcerned by my travel. 

One sand pit after another threatened to toss me on my face but miraculously I managed to kept the big BMW upright all day. I would say luck rather than skill  - or perhaps divine intervention. Either way - all but my bum enjoyed the ride.

A half eaten buffalo carcass under an endless blue sky caused me to pause for a moment realizing that this is the way it has been here for centuries. Unchanged - undamaged - unadulterated except of course for my motorcycle. There were some twinges of guilt along the way but other than some temporary tracks in the sand  - I left little behind and took only memories.

I passed and waved at a number of Elephants along the way though stopped to say hello to these 3 big amigos. While they seemed glad to see me, at one point I wondered if the flapping ears and head shaking was more than just an enthusiastic welcome to Tsavo National Park. One started to come over to say hello and my thinking is that I was running a bit late anyway so should probably get back on the Cycle and continue my adventure. I think a flat Layno was in the offing and that was best avoided.

Rather than risk getting caught by father darkness in the jungles of Shimba hills, I stopped at a Hotel in place called Voi and called it a night. Dinner was a a very refreshing cold beer and by far the worst Pork Ribs I have ever tasted.  I chuckled to myself as I struggled through this abomination thinking of my Mother who has never eaten ribs with out telling the story of the amazing ribs she and someone named Mary once had in 1961. If only she and Mary were here they could bookend the rib eating experience. The sunrise was amazing -- the food was not. 😝

 After a wonderful early morning ride to South Coast, this little $20 per night beachfront banda was a welcomed sight. Pretty basic and I didn't see Ivanka Trump's name in the guest book, but what more do you really need when a hot shower is the last thing you need when it's 30 degrees all the time.

I've come to know some of the staff at this place (Soul Breeze) and as usual they made me feel very welcome. Njeri in particular has greeted Essie and I numerous times and her unfailingly warm smile is most welcoming. 

I mentioned the Soul Breeze in a previous blog and my good friend Fergus commented "you had me at soul breeze". That comment always comes to mind when I visit. The air smells sweetly, the sounds of the ocean calm my soul and the fresh fish and fruit make for a healthy time of it. And oh yeah - the beer is cold and served by Njeri with a familiar smile.

 

Soul Breeze in the evening. No tuxedo  required!!

No one to the right....

No one to the left!!!

Perfect for a Yoga session and skinny dip. Best no one catch sight of this scantily clad 60 year old.

And Work...

My company continues to do amazing work in Kenya improving health and safety in kitchens throughout the country and globally. Our company M-Gas continues to grow and fast!!

Nairobi remains Heaven and Hell. Torrential rain and protests are the country's constant companions lately making it challenging for us to save the world. Protests usually mean shutting down much of our operations as we are mostly in the informal settlements where Tear Gas and a Molotov cocktails are more common than political chants like  "Aye Yo Aye yo -- please make change or Go"

 

 

 

 

 

 .... a note on Cleo the insufferably happy loving Labish dog. She continues to amaze me with a generosity of love and kindness that are a lesson to me daily. How is it that dogs can rise to such maturity while some amongst  us humans cannot. Myself included - ahem!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Majengo Kids

Yesterday,
due to the generosity of those who have supported this project, we brought in the following;

• Rice 100kg
• Cow Peas 100kg
• Cooking Oil 20L
• Corn Flour 40kg
• Wheat flour 40kg
• 240 Cookie packages (Cookies are critical to good health) 😊

 

A big thanks to Joy and her team for putting the order together for us. Her assistant doesn't look that impressed. Not a morning guy maybe.

 

 

 A colleague from work who is interning with our company was good enough to come along and lend a helping hand. I made sure he lifted all the heavy stuff. Thanks Adam. My back appreciates the help!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've got an idea and would really appreciate any financial support for this project. On a recent hike to the Ngong Hills I was struck by the amount of garbage (mostly glucose wrappers) along the trail. Why do we litter in beautiful places? And how can we impact the environment in a more positive way?

Let's start with kids!! My project is to ask the Malezi school senior class to write an essay explaining the importance of environmental stewardship. The essays will be evaluated and the top 12 kids will go on a hike in the hills boasting a picnic lunch AND 1 cent/bob for every piece of garbage they collect.

 

The budget is around $300 and if you would like to make a contribution to this of the "Just Food Africa" program, I would be most appreciative.

 

 

If you would like to donate - you can email me to chat about it or do so through:

MPESA -- +254745237248 (Local)

Pay Pal -- laynegmahon@gmail.com (International)

Or interact -- Laynemahon@live.com (Canada)

 

 I loved the ride and my couple of short days on the coast  - so while the journey may be the destination - my bummy would argue that the destination is a much more comfortable holiday. 😊

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading....Layno on my way to a faaaaancy do!!!