Nomad issue #23

LAMU
Personalised service is one of the key attractions at Peponi with
some guests having been returning for years, and this is evident in
the restaurant which serves up an eclectic mix of seafood, pasta,
meat and Swahili dishes. Even vegans are considered. Our dinners
are often three or four courses of delicious concoctions in handsome
portions. My favourite is the Swahili dinner, an experience in itself.
We’re served at a private section of the restaurant with traditional
Swahili-style seating in form of big red pillows on the floor, with a
large sinia (tray) on the table as the centerpiece. Dining in this culture
is often very communal. Then, out flows an array of food; pojo
(green grams in coconut milk), mbaazi (pigeon peas in coconut milk),
chapati, chicken and fish curries and kachumbari, and by the time
we are done, we would have all moved to Lamu in an instant had
someone asked.
The next day we decide to explore. “People always say there isn’t
much to do in Lamu, but I can keep you very busy,” says Carol, as
she takes out a pen and draws us an itinerary based on our interests.
By the time she’s done, I have no doubt. (www.peponihotel.com)
Turtle hatching
We take a speedboat through the mangroves and dock at the base
of a gigantic sand dune. A ten minute walk leads us through a glade
of shrubs past an old well where cattle still come to graze, and a
simple Oromo homestead where some kids are playing a game of
sticks and stones in the evening shade. Our group then walks out
to a completely deserted golden stretch of beach begging for a
barefoot excursion, with water too angry for even the most daring of
swimmers. Another time, perhaps, as we’re here to see endangered
green turtles hatching. This initiative to improve their chances of
survival is by the Lamu Marine Conservation Trust, supported by the
Tusk Trust.
Sea turtles are such fascinating creatures as they will leave the
water and come to the beach to lay eggs in the same spot where
they were hatched. Wearing gloves, the guide begins to dig out the
sand covering the nest, and shortly after, black, tiny turtles scurry out
of the hole and start to flap their little flippers in the direction of the
sea, as though they can instinctively smell the water. After surviving
natural predators like crabs, this is often a race to outrun birds
and other hunters. After about three decades, the females of this
generation will return to this very beach in Lamu to lay their eggs.
The birds that look like flowers in a tree
On our way back from watching the turtles, we hear the call of
carmine bee-eaters and follow the sound to a mangrove with the old
town in the background. When these little birds perch on the stems of
the mangrove’s leaves, they look like bright flame-red flowers in full
bloom, and might even pass for fruits. Their song is interrupted only
by the nearby Floating Bar which is playing a familiar hip hop tune.
The birds, said to “go to work during the day” and return to roost in
the evening much like humans, however seem unperturbed by Jay Z.
With the sun now setting behind the old town like an orange stroke
of paint added to an already perfect painting, even those not often
won over by birds and sunsets would admit that this is indeed a
beautiful sight.
Fun fact: When hunting bees, these birds will return to their perch
and smash the insects into the branch, rubbing the abdomen to
remove the venomous stinger before eating it. Just like the wildebeest
migration in the Mara, they also follow the same annual migration
route and keen birders often go to Botswana and other parts of
southern Africa just to see them.
Sunset dhow cruise
This will simply never get old. A fleet of about seven boats gently
gliding along. Breeze brushing against your skin. An old white
sailing canvas unravelled somewhere mid-water to show the dhowowner’s
art. Ours shows a young boy kicking along a football,
and Peter, a passionate fan of the sport, is visibly pleased. The
canvas on the dhow across from us simply asks, “Will you marry
me?” You cruise along the sea, sipping a glass of merlot and being
momentarily lulled out of your worries by soothing Taarab music, or
whatever you can master on your Bluetooth speaker. You lie back on
the pillows and look up at the sky as it changes from the most vibrant
of orange to a pitch black, and suddenly it is time to get off the boat
at the Shella jetty.
NOMAD MAGAZINE 2019 33