NaiRobMe

Remember I took a cab from the station to the hotel? Well I was also worried that the cabbie might rob me by overcharging me since the hotel was just a hop and a skip away. He didn’t but someone else that was smarter robbed me. My hotel, Hilton Hotel, was in downtown and I thought it is the ideal location. I had a tough time deciding whether I should stay at the Hilton or Sankara in Westlands. Sankara was more expensive by about $35 dollars. I then stuck to the Hilton at $185 per night and good lawd was I robbed. The hotel was nowhere near all the Hilton’s I have been to (remember Hilton Windhoek?). It was aged. It needed renovation. It was comfortable all right but for $185 I felt robbed. They don’t call it Nairobbery for nothing. Funny I spent most of my time in Sankara. But then again there are many other reasons why I chose to stay at the Hilton. Maybe one day I will explain.

Seen in Central Park, Nairobi City Centre

One thing you will know about East Africa is that you end up wanting to speak Swahili as well. Everyone, I mean everyone, in the region knows at least a few phrases in Swahili. The basic phrases were in songs playing in all foyers of resorts and theme nights. The hotels and restaurants greet you with a “Jambo! Karibu sana” and warm smiles that you don’t have a choice but wish to converse in Swahili as well. The worst part is when you hear Europeans speak in fluent Swahili. It kills me. I should know Swahili better than them, it is an African language!

Back to Nairobi. I couldn’t sleep on the train. I think I slept on average three hours a night. Upon arrival I went to my room and took a long shower and thought I would take a to hour nap before heading to the city. I looked outside the window and had the most beautiful view of the city ever. The city was abuzz. The traffic is a mess! I wanted to be with the masses and try out my Swahili. Needless to say, after my shower and brunch I headed to the city. Walking down the streets and avenue of Nairobi felt like a giant African history library. Each street was names after great African liberation struggle heroes.  I am talking Kenyatta, Moi, Nyerere, Mandela, Luthuli etc.

Moi Avenue in Nairobi

I met up with an “old friend” at Tacos , an unofficial gay bar near the hotel which was later closed down. We had a few drinks and he took me deep into town to show me how they chase tail in Nairobi. The place was real dodgy, like most cruise spots all over the world. All eyes were on us as we got to the bar. We joined a small table of obviously gay men in a bar full of what seemed like straight men. Unsure if it would be wise to share what I experienced in the bathrooms but I can share with you that I was quite shocked that THAT happened in Nairobi.  One day when I write my tell-all book I will indulge the details. PS: I did nothing at all. PPS: You will totally not believe me.

Nairobi City Centre. Below is a view of the main Matatu Rank in the city.

You know they say Nairobi is a city that never sleeps. They are right. Every evening was a special evening for me. There was a new party/ club to go to. There were new places to dine out , of course this is after sundowners at Sankara. From SkyLux to Pavement to Black Diamond to Gypsy to Hidden Agenda. I found a few gay friendly spots, which I was sworn to secrecy not to reveal them.

Remember I told you about cockroaches in the last post? I also mentioned that they come in all forms and shapes according to the European gentlemen I was on the train ride from Mombasa with. What would Nairobi be without cockroaches? I got bitten by one. One of the evenings when I was out I met a lovely young man who instantly fell in love with me. Yeah, I kinda liked it but I knew this was not genuine. Showered me with the sweetest words and got me blushing the next thing I know his entire crew was around and I was expected to buy drinks for his friends. I was a traveler on a budget and there was no way that I was going to buy drinks for his friends. Of course I ran a mile the first opportunity I got.

I don’t know what it is that draws me to Nairobi so much. It may be because it is so Afropolitan. Or perhaps it may be because of the hot boys that adore me (and want free drinks).  Whatever it is I know that Nairobi has captured my heart and will be seeing more of me in the future.

Candle in the Wind(hoek)

I still remember the day I took my trip to Windhoek like it was yesterday. I had spent the days preceding my departure at one of Africa’s greatest gay gatherings, the Mother City Queer Project (MCQP) in Cape Town. The year was 2011 and the theme was Maid In China. This was my first MCQP and it lived up to all of my expectations. My journey started in the morning of 19 December with a brisk walk from my hotel at the V&A to the Cape Town train station. Yes, you read it right; I took a 23-hour bus ride from Cape Town to Windhoek.

I honestly do not know what had possessed me to take a journey by bus alone instead of flying to Windhoek. I had not been in a bus since 2007 but something in me made me think it was a good idea to be on a bus for 23 hours instead of flying for two hours. My decision may have been informed by the fact that the bus ride was less than $100 vs. at least $300 by plane. After a few minutes of admin and finding my bus we were on our way. I was excited. I came prepared with my snacks, music and a power pack for when my iPod would give up on me. I was that super eager guy in row 22!

The most beautiful thing about this journey was meeting all the different people that were making their way from Cape Town to their homes for the Christmas holiday season. I met a lovely lady (we shall call her Grace) who had just completed her Masters degree at the University of Western Cape in economics from Windhoek who gave me a bit of a background on the country’s politics and economic policies. I also met gentlemen who were making their way to Angola and the DRC. I quite enjoyed the conversations with all these people and one particular one was with Grace when she was telling me about her decision to quit her job and go study full time after her divorce. Grace was also very kind to give me a blanket at night. I don’t know what I was thinking – I just assumed that the bus company would provide us with blankets like they do on planes. Now I (and you) know.

The gentlemen from Angola and DRC at one of our stops before crossing the Namibian border.

We arrived in Windhoek at 8 am after an uneventful ride after we crossed the Namibian border. Note to self: the next time you decide to take a bus ride that crosses any borders just make sure it is not over the Christmas period. I was very lucky that the bus stopped right outside my hotel in the city center, Hilton (don’t side-eye me, yes I took a bus to go stay in a 5* hotel). I must mention that that was by far the best hotel I stayed in during my travels. Their attention to detail was awesome. Perhaps I was happy with the fact that they allowed me to check in early AND have breakfast. I am tempted to say that this was the best part of my Windhoek stay.

This is all I traveled with. This is me awaiting my room to be ready at the lobby of the Hilton Hotel Windhoek

Scrumptious breakfast at the Hilton Windhoek

The city is very clean! It reminds me of a small German town I have never been to or a small version of Bloemfontein, a South African city. I searched the city for Namibian cuisine and all I was met with was German cuisine that was drenched in oil enough to deep fry a pea. Honestly my disappointment at this city came from the fact that it had no identity of its own. It was the tenth province of South Africa – I could still use my South African Rands throughout the city and dine out at the same South African chain restaurants.

I spent my days lounging my hotel's rooftop bar and sending my friends pictures of the cocktails I was having and the spectacular views of the sunset.

The nights were more eventful. I went to the local bars and clubs to meet people. I went for the One Namibian Dollar shots special at Fashion Bar in the outskirts of the city. Again, it didn’t feel like I left South Africa. The only saving grace was Chez Ntemba and their zouk/Kizomba music. I thoroughly enjoyed the Angolan and Congolese patrons (men) and their warm welcome and flirting (which I didn’t mind at all).

I also quite enjoyed seeing the beautiful OvaHimba ladies in their full traditional gear and their famous natural long hair. The OvaHimba are a tribe from the North of Namibia and are the last nomadic people of Namibia.