Trekking the Abaderes

Pretty Misty Mister....

Hiking the Abadares is indeed an adventure of Harrison Ford-esque magnitude. It's an Indiana Jones-like experience a trekking through bamboo forests and exploring fantastic waterfalls shrouded in magic, mist and mystery. Vines hang from somewhere above, caves beacon, and our guards with Kalashnikovs at the ready keep an eye for the dangers of elephants ..... or buffalo...or bandits.
I am under no illusions as to my fortune on this day. The chance to explore these wonderful places is a gift that I am so pleased to have been given in my life. A moment here to remind of the wonderful opportunities that present when we have our health, and a vigorous unquenchable spirit for adventure.

The hours of sweating, sliding and climbing through the forest seem like a lot of effort at times. After all, it's a relaxing Saturday morning somewhere on the east bank of the great Rift valley in Kenya. Why all the effort? It's a mere 2 hours away from the city but a universe away in terms of the unspoiled natural environment. Pictured on the left, my friend and fellow adventurer Florence (previously introduced snorkeling on the South Kenya Coast) smiles in a friendly way that belies the reality of the tough terrain we tackled on the day. Looking ahead the trail ( if there is one) looks flat.....but was anything but! The green bits cover a slick red mud that ensured each of us ended up on our asses on more than one occasion.


As our group of about 20 intrepid hikers tentatively made our way down the muddy slope to the canyon bottom below, our senses were on overload. The roar of the waterfall crashing meters from us, the mist more like angry swirling rain and finally green green green leafy plants; trifids taking back the earth.

The hours of sweating, sliding and climbing through the forest were well worth it for this spectacular treat of the senses. The canyon was cool - cold actually, and we were all soaking wet within minutes. We definitely were uncomfortable but we stayed entranced by the water cascading from above and plunging at our very feet; so near were we to the waterfall.

The waterfall is nicknamed "General China" a freedom fighter who hid in this area during the Mau mau insurrection. A colleague of Dedan Kimathi mentioned previously, they led the Mau mau (along with a couple other notable leaders) against the British in the 50's. General China (actually Waruhiu Itote) was captured in 1954 but worked out a deal to bring an end to the insurrection in exchange for his life. It's said that he ventured to the caves in the Abaderes and met with Dedan and others trying in vain to talk them into surrender. In the end, he was unsuccessful and was sent to an interment camp where he met Jomo Kenyatta and became a close friend. Jomo, of course, went on to become the first Presie of Kenya and took General China into his government once formed in 1963. General China died in 1993 of a stroke at the age of 71.

Sitting in the cave looking out at the waterfall my thoughts fell to these men and what they must have endured at the time. On the run hunted and hated, they lived under the harshest of conditions to stand for what they believed in. Now that's leadership.

And I know of few who lead and inspire others so well as my good friend Chris. Pictured here looking fit and friendly - he volunteers his time in Africa pursuing justice for scumbag poachers. A member of the legal team at Wildlife Direct, their work is as important as it is frustrating. Funding is hard to come by, bad guys almost impossible to convict ...and see justice served....all the while the crisis becomes more and more serious.

It's a thankless job that I can only hope someday gets the recognition and required resources it deserves.  Shame on those who profit from the destruction of non-renewable natural resources knowing all the while that when the last Rhino shudders fails and falls to ground that we have failed miserably as a species and stewards of the land.

I doubt Chris gives much thought to how others view his contribution but I have to say that he's a solid guy and I'm proud to be associated with him.

To my fallen comrade in Central African Republic..... RIP my friend.

I read recently that the number of humanitarian workers who die each year is more than the number of peacekeepers. What the fuck? How can this be? Does this mean that NGO's are reckless with their behavior? Does it mean that intelligence and security measures are not sufficient within the NGO sector?

Or does it mean that as a community we have a peacekeeping construct that is remarkably ineffective from an operational perspective?  In the same way that MSF has chosen to  withdraw from the 2016 World Humanitarian Summit, my sense is that we are spending far too much time administering and talking about peacekeeping and not nearly enough time actually doing it.

My heart goes out to my colleague who lost his life last week while on the job giving selflessly of himself to make the world a better place. And shame to those who perpetrate violence on this who so clearly are well-intensioned and giving in their duty.
Robbery I understand... the act of desperate people in desperate times. The act of killing for the sake of killing is a heinous and despicable event that deserves an measured and equal response in my view.

Thanks for reading.....Layno

Home for a visit - Home for a rest

Canada's Beautiful West Coast - New Perspectives

I had been preparing for a presentation to the MSF Kenya Supply Unit Steering committee in Amsterdam and while I had known that I was going to Victoria and Vancouver immediately after, I really had given little thought to what it would be like after over a year on the Dark Continent. The presentation required a lot of focus so the details of my 2 and a half week homecoming were left more to chance and the wind than my traditional planning and spreadsheet fanaticism.

Presentation successfully completed and a day of meetings in Brussels behind me, I was winging my way to Canada. A quick stop in Vancouver was certainly a foreshadowing with the sun still shining brightly and everything glittering and sparkling in this clean and beautiful city.

I was greeted in Victoria by my close friend Marli, my son Jake and his best friend Braydon (affectionately know as Braydo). That was a terrific moment for me. I was back on home soil and reveling in the feelings that I had indeed been missed.

So - The West coast of Canada in spring - is there really anything more beautiful? Maybe Beyonce with a catastrophic wardrobe malfunction but I can think of few other things that are such a sight for sore eyes. Everywhere you turn there is beauty springing new and fresh in the warm spring sun.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of friends and coffee dates catching up and sharing the  adventures of the last year.  I saw my friend Barry on the day after I arrived and spent a whole afternoon catching up. Despite working for the government, Barry is one of the finest gentlemen I have encountered. Engaging, honest, generous and thoughtful he has been a wonderful friend of mine and hope will always be so. He was kind enough to let me store my Ducati in his garage and so asked if I would be using it over the next couple weeks. "no" I replied.... what would be the point? "Ahhh" he said...it's no trouble....why not?


That night he sent me an email with the steps involved. Hmmmmm I thought, maybe it would be worth doing. It was not particularly easy given my archaic looking Kenyan driving license. So surprised was the insurance officer her first words after seeing it were to say "Hey everyone!! get over here and get a load of this!!"

A bit of messing around but the smile on my face in the picture below tells the story. For the record the Ducati 748 on the side is for show, the bike is actually (more or less) a 916 heavily modified to do just one thing... go into corners like a bullet and make sure you exit the curve rubber side down and rider intact. Super fun bike and while not great for some of the Vancouver Island touring I did, there was plenty of power when the opportunity came to pull out and pass. See below what is affectionately know as the "Dominatrix". It hurts like hell to ride but you keep coming back for more for some reason.

The purple Camus below beautifully accessorizes the view of the Olympic Peninsula in the distance. This photo is looking South East from the beach near my home. It's a view I enjoyed almost daily for many years and like time spent with an old friend is both comfortable and familiar.

The cove near the the house was as peaceful and serene as ever. This picture was taken around 6 am as I enjoyed the moment with Poncho, my goofy Chocolate Labrador Retriever and a good hot cup of coffee. No garbage - no loud noises - no looking over my shoulder for bad guys coming to hurt me - no smell of burning tires or diesel smoke. Just the gentle sounds of the waves lapping at the beach and a family of Canada Geese overly concerned about Poncho chewing a piece of driftwood into toothpicks near the water's edge. If ever there was a moment for reflection it was here and in this moment. And i did as it was an opportunity to thoughtfully compare my experience in a developing country with the world I have know for over 50 years.  I do see that comparison quite differently at least for now. It's not that I view western lifestyles with disdain or cynicism. It's not that I think of those I share this beautiful country with as naive or uncaring in their thinking; but I do wish that we would all better appreciate the life we have been given.... or more accurately inherited. Our birthplace comes with inherent rights 7/8 the of the world's population can only dream and drool over.  Not having to endure sexual assault to keep your job - not having to walk 6 hours a day to work at a job where you are unpaid with the faint hope that you can gain sufficient experience to find a job well below the masters degree you worked so hard to attain. Or living in poverty and  knowing that if you get sick - you'll be unable to buy the basic medicines needed to survive and will likely die. And in fact - to take this just a bit farther - be willing to do anything to just survive. Yes - the longer I sat and pondered the more I appreciated the lottery that rewarded me with beautiful life I am very grateful for.

Pictured above and beside are a couple pictures taken while spending time with the kids. Stevie and I took a walk with her dog Oakland (The Rat Dog) and Poncho around the lake on a beautiful warm day, while Jake and I got his graduation suit fitted for his big upcoming day. They both look so happy and healthy.


I am so proud of both of them for their independent spirit and maturity. They are amazing young adults well aware of the world around them and their place within it.

I've never been in first class on an airplane before but  when the woman behind me on the flight from Edmonton to Amsterdam took great exception to me leaning my seat back the opportunity came up. On two occasions when I asked if she was ok when I felt a bang on the back of the seat, her response was only that I should go fuck myself. "Hmmmm", I thought after the second FU -  it was likely best that I let the attendants know about the somewhat anti-social and agitated woman behind me. They quickly whisked me into first class and stuck a single malt scotch in my hand. Hmmm - not so bad I thought. Did you know you can lie flat in there? I slept like a baby through to Schiphol. Life is good!!!!

Poncho greets me with a stick...wanna play Layne???

One last shot of the Dominatrix..... Graceful , elegant and completely belligerent all at once........ like me!!!

Thanks for reading.....Layno

Springtime in Amsterdam

Tulips are the most sensible of flowers... Show and go.....

I can think of no better time to arrive into Amsterdam than just as the tulips are coming into bloom. Bright - cheerful - colorful sights greet one at every turn as you explore the streets and canals of the city.  I love tulips as the harbingers of better weather heralding the news with spectacular displays that are extinguished almost as quickly as they appear. A very sensible flower in my view...always leave them wanted a little more.

I had a few days of work/play in the city so contented myself with half days of faithful service to my computer and the rest simply wandering with no particular place to go. No maps - no agenda...just wandering.......................

 
My amazing daughter Stevie has visited Peru, Mexico and Africa in the past few months so may have been infected with the same wanderlust. A prouder Dad I couldn't be :)


In  addition to the shameless wandering I also indulged in my favorite dinner on each of the nights I was in the city. As pictured below, a Merlot so thick you can stand a fork in it - a wheel of Camembert, a dry sausage and of course a baguette just warm from the oven. All for less than $20.... the Europeans have their priorities straight in my mind. Food and then everything else. Healthy? Hmmmm...not sure about that.

Fat Bastard - Camembert - Sausage and a baguette...oh yeah!!!!!

The sun was warm (not Africa warm) enough to draw Amsterdamites out to the street cafes and neighborhood pubs for drinks of all sorts. For me - a number of beer stops were clearly a necessity due to extreme thirst and the very real possibility of expiring mid-step due to dehydration. Why take that chance. A sparkling conversation with a stranger generally ensues .... in this case a Dutch couple in their 80's out for their daily beer.

Belgium after the bombing........

 

I took the train to Brussels after Amsterdam and and while mainly working while there, I did have to travel through the city using the trams, bus and trains. The Maalbeek station was still closed and the aftermath of the bombing and security was both omnipresent and menacing; a constant companion to the Belgians who have had to reconcile their beautiful peaceful lives with the acts of terror that left 32 dead and over 300 wounded.

At Gare Midi, the south train station, 5 of the entrances are closed pushing commuters to a single point of entry and down a roped corridor where you are scrutinized for anything that could be used to inflict more pain and suffering. On the left is the view from the front desk at the hotel where I stayed. I am getting ready to exit and make my way through the heavily armed guards who are in no mood for jokes or idle chatter. To get out of the hotel - you have to push by these guys who are so focused on their task they neither give way or exchange any kind of greeting. Interesting and understandable  - and a clear example of the tension gripping this normally friendly and hospitable city. I share in their grief, and those elsewhere who continue to have their lives torn apart by what must be the actions madmen and woman.


“There are few things more dangerous than inbred religious certainty.” ― Bart D. Ehrman,



Thanks for reading - Layno

East Coast Mombassa and South to Diani..

Nothing to beach about here...

As you pass under the iconic tusks heralding your arrival into the great Port City of Mombassa the sights are not in the least bit pretty. It's a dirty port town more functional than aesthetic; it looks and feels worn, tired and defeated. It's a loud and dirty city where Tuk tuks and trucks compete to be the winner in an all out contest to completely assault your senses. The great gusts of dirty smoke, loud engines noises and constant competition for space on this little island is overwhelming. And all of this in close to 40 degree heat! There is a  new rail line being built to Mombassa and then on to Uganda that will eventually ease some of the congestion and allow for the repair of the ubiquitous bone shattering potholes that grace nearly every street. There is also a proposal to twin the port in Lamu to the north but as long as Al Shabab continues to be active in that region it's unlikely that will happen. For now though, it's 24/7 activity as the port feeds East Africa's growing appetite for more and more stuff.

Hmmmm.....no need to get out marshmallows just yet...

 There was a tense moment as we drove to Mombassa. Caught in a traffic jam we ended up near a truck burning on the side of the road. The driver had managed to uncouple the trailer full of diesel fuel but only managed to move the truck a couple meters from the trailer before fleeing for safety. We were torn between abandoning the car and running for safety or hoping traffic would move again.

Very natural looking....

Thankfully traffic cooperated and we were glad to see the industrial campfire in our rear view mirror as we continued on to Mombasa. I read of a similar situation recently where the tanker finally exploded killing many of those standing by with Jerry cans hoping for free fuel. I don't know how this ended but did note the throngs of onlookers hoping for freebies.

For me, It's another reminder of the difference between developed countries and those developing. There will assuredly not be transportation safety officials speeding to the scene to ensure the situation will be handled safely and contained. The tractor will burn until it can burn no longer ...the trailer may or may not blow to smithereens. The burnt out remains will then be picked apart but villagers selling the scrap metal bit by bit. Until it's gone. The circle of life.....


But the city has not always been like this. It was established around 900 AD and boasts an impressive and fascinating history as a major gateway linking Europe and the East. The Portuguese boat driving guy, Vasco de Gamma showed up in 1498 and built Fort Jesus. Here my friend Dave, a fine fine music teacher from Denmark, (and guitar player so can't be too bad a guy) poses awkwardly at the entrance. There were better pictures of Dave...but this is my choice because it's my blog and he foolishly gave me permission to publish whatever I liked. I can make the most fun of him with this shot. He's a really good guy and it was a pleasure to spend time with him..

The Architecture is very strange and intriguing. The fort is the outline of a body accessorized with various Arabic bits.

Once inside the fort it's easy to imagine the life and times of the times. The fort was built to withstand cannon fire and clearly has done so. It's perched high on the ocean-side majestically commanding a view of any approach to this important outpost of the Portuguese play for kings of trade. Cannons liter the space looking archaically menacing and effective at persuading would-be invaders to try invading a castle down the street.

I love old doors...and posing dramatically:) Oh the horror!!!!

Florence, our trip leader and quite possibly the most unflappable and calm person I have ever met, doesn't find the cannons so menacing but more a convenient resting place on a day hot enough to melt rocks! So calm is Florence that I checked for a pulse on a number of occasions. She was fine....
The fort is undergoing significant erosion to the foundation on the the south side. My hope is that the authorities will ensure that this important UNESCO world heritage site and treasure of humanity received the funding required to preserve it for the future. In my view history needs to be seen as well as read. If visiting the coast of East Africa, I would strongly recommend this important historic link to the past.

In an only slightly less awkward pose Dave celebrates our arrival at 40 Thieves beach bar in Diani. Elle sticks out her tongue in some kind of Miley Cyrusesque  tribute and expression of sheer joy.  I stuck out my tongue out as well not knowing why exactly but really enjoying what is possibly the coolest bar I have ever been to. White sand floors and the beach lit up with great music filling the air. Lots of people lounging, dancing, walking the beach or swimming in the 30 degree ocean. Women in dresses and men in pants swimming and enjoying playing in the water in various stages of dress and undress. We stayed til 3:30 that night and 4:30 the next. Such a fun place!!!!

The beach is truly spectacular!! We spent time lazing at an expensive resort we pretended to be from after walking from our "more budget conscious" accommodations that while nice, were no match for the oceanside  resorts. The beer was cold, the view astonishing and the warm breeze off the Indian ocean smells sweetly as it nourishes the soul. In for a dip...out for a cold beer..repeat!

Our final day was spent snorkeling the coral reef around Wasini island. The island is south of Diani and about 3 kms off from the mainland. It is for the most part, the island group of Zanzibar, Pemba, others and then Wasini to the north. Known for its rich and plentiful marine life, this marine park  is truly a snorkelers dream come true. A new hobby for me and one I would like to much more of. I plan to do my scuba certification in May.


 I'll do my best to share my underwater experience but it probably doesn't doesn't translate well.
First I'll say that my mom would have enjoyed it immensely. I thought of her often as wave after wave of color, shape and texture delights you. And wherever you look there is more! The sand is bright white and shimmers like there are diamonds scattered about with coral "heads" that are about the size and shape of a bright pink head of cauliflower. And the bright yellow "plants" that look like someone's long hair but thicker, like fettuccine, reaching for the bright blue sky through the turquoise water. The clown fish are "hidden in the hair" all blue and orange and white. And then the other fish. A large fish the size of  wine bottle that was rainbow colored was my clear favorite. As they turned and twisted, another dazzling display of color brighter and brightest greet you. Or maybe its the small electric blue fish or the bright yellow ones the size of your hand that are like the figment of an overactive imagination, but are real.

My best moment started with a signal to Dave that I was going down to where about 500 of the yellow fish were gathered near the bottom of a pink coral reef. As I swam the 2 or 3 meters down and into the right into the middle of the school; underneath were about 1000 of the small bright blue fish. Suddenly I was surrounded by a blue and yellow snow storm as the fish scurried frantically expressing their extreme disappointment of being disturbed. I stayed as long as I could, then finally swam up and broke the surface laughing with joy. What a moment!


Behind Florence you can see the coral reef that was the staring point for our snorkeling adventure. Thanks so much to Flo for putting the trip together.  Nice job!!! And thanks to Dave and Elle for their fun company and making a pretty good, though not as good breakfast.

Thanks for reading - Layno!!!