The first thing that we noticed when we left the plane was the air. The phrases “pea soup,” “you could cut it with a knife,” and “give me air!” all sprang to mind. Very, very warm, and very, very humid.
The airport was immaculately built but primitive in operation. Some tables were hastily dragged across to form a makeshift passport control desk. Ours being the only flight at this time, we were out of the airport very quickly. Then it was onto the coaches for the ride to the hotel.
Driving through Mombasa, we were all struck at what a – well, what a dump it was. I had never seen so much corrugated sheet metal in all my life. Everything seemed to be made out of old pieces of the stuff, hammered together in a motley arrangement. The houses were little more than shacks. We were hoping that the hotel would be in a somewhat nicer part of town.
It was. The scenery changed to lush green countryside, and the buildings changed to elaborate white villas and hotels. Soon the coach turned right, at a sign saying “Silver Star hotel.” It pulled up in front of a vast thatch-covered building surrounded by coconut palms. In front of the steps was the welcoming committee: a group of Africans in native dress singing and dancing to ethnic music. It was more amusing than anything else, but it was a nice touch.
The hotel was entirely different to what I expected (which was something like the Ramada). It was a two-storey open-plan sprawling complex, with lots of plants, thatch, and ornamental animals. Our room was small but clean and the balcony overlooked a large garden.
Outside our room was a Tree. I put the word in capitals because I had never seen a tree like it before, although over the next few days I saw many like it. It wasn’t just that this tree was very, very tall and very, very, broad. It was that it radiated life and energy. All manner of creepers and smaller plants emanated from its numerous branches. I had never before seen such a mass of sheer life.
Suspended between the lower branches of the Tree was a Web. Again, I put the word in capitals because I had never seen a web like it before. It stretched between two creepers that were some nine feet apart. The main expanse of the web measured around five feet in diameter. The silk of which it was constructed was astonishingly thick and strong; I pulled it and felt considerable resistance. It did not snap.
At the center of the Web was a Spider; my capitalization of this word should not require any explanation. The spider lacked the thickness of legs that characterizes tarantulas, but what it lacked in bulk, it more than made up for in sheer size. It was slightly larger than the palm of my hand. Its eight legs were banded with orange, and its body was a vivid pattern of black and gold. Eight eyes peered menacingly at me. I did not attempt to befriend it.
My initial exploration of the garden revealed, to my delight, a sign saying “Please do not feed the monkeys.” Scanning the trees, however, did not reveal any.
To my further pleasure I found that the hotel bordered the Indian Ocean. The sand was a brilliant white, the waters a sparkling blue. Magnificent. A brief venture out on this beach, however, was not so pleasant. Instantly we were accosted by hordes of Africans peddling their wares. “You want your name engraved in Hebrew on ebony?” “You want this little elephant statue?” Etcetera, etcetera. Politely but firmly we disentangled ourselves from them and beat a hasty retreat back to the hotel grounds. We noticed that the hotel had stationed a guard to prevent the peddlers from entering! After a quick lunch and reservation of our tours we lay down for a much-needed sleep.
Waking from a deep slumber, I left my still-sleeping father to walk around outside. One of the hotel staff was shooing away a cat as I headed towards –
It wasn’t a cat.
The tail was too long, the body too thin, the movement all wrong. It was a monkey!
Suddenly the garden was full of them. Big ones, little ones, males and females. I started snapping pictures; although I trusted that I would be seeing plenty of them over the next few days, it was fun to photograph the first sighting. Looking up at the building, I saw that my father was on the balcony of our room. “Look in front of you, Dad!” I called out. And in front of him, right in front of him on the balcony, was a monkey.
I returned to the room and sat on the balcony to get a good view of all the monkeys. They were immensely entertaining to watch. Chasing each other, playing with each other, fighting, and occasionally falling off the branches, they were a non-stop show.
After supper and maariv the entire tour sat outside to watch the “Circus” - a group of four Africans performing the most astonishing tricks. The first juggled fire and did improbable looking tricks with a bicycle. The second manipulated and contorted his body in a way that I wouldn’t even try with a rag doll. The third selected a large man from the audience, tied a rope around his waist, and picked it and him up with his teeth! It was all very enjoyable, but my father and myself were exhausted and left early to our room.
Stepping out to the balcony before I went to sleep, I took in the scene: People sitting among the palm trees, watching the performing and singing Africans. Samba music drifted through the air on the cool breeze. It was a perfectly atmospheric end to my first day in Africa.
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