Today, I started my day with a simple plan: head outside, visit the ATM to withdraw money for my accommodation, then swing by the supermarket for water and something sweet. But as often happens, life had other ideas.
At the ATM, curiosity struck. I wondered what lay further down the road. A quick check on Google Maps revealed a football stadium and a lake nearby. Intrigued, I decided to venture out and see the lake.
The walk began with promise. I took in the surroundings, snapping photos along the way. But when I checked my map again, I realized I had already passed the lake. No worries, I thought; the stadium was still on my list.
When I reached the area marked as the stadium on my map, I found... nothing. No grand structure, no crowds, just a cluster of houses and shops. Determined, I decided to circle around the area, hoping to find a hidden entrance. Somewhere along the way, I missed a turn and ended up in a completely different part of town.
It turned out to be a happy accident. The roads were lined with vibrant, colorful trees forming a natural canopy overhead. It was stunning. For a moment, I forgot all about my original destination and simply enjoyed the view.
Then reality set in. A local woman warned me that the area wasn’t safe, especially for someone who stood out as much as I did. Taking her advice, I retraced my steps toward the stadium.
The atmosphere shifted. As I walked, locals called out "Mzungu" – a term used for white people, often with negative connotations. While no one directly caused me trouble, their words lingered in the air, making me feel like an outsider.
After reaching the supposed stadium’s fourth side and still finding no entrance, I was approached by a man. His tone was commanding as he told me to open my bag and hand over my money. I looked at him, unfazed, and replied with a polite but firm “Asante Sana” (thank you very much in Swahili). Then, I turned and walked away.
He stood there, stunned, as if his world had just flipped upside down. I glanced back briefly to see him still frozen in place, speechless. That was my cue to move on and refocus on my initial goal: finding the lake.
What I found wasn’t a lake at all. Google Maps had misled me. Instead, I stumbled upon a serene creek surrounded by a forest. It was beautiful in its own way, but the possible presence of snakes deterred me from venturing further in.
I continued my walk back to town, passing a charming school building, a furniture store, and eventually the train station. By the time I reached the street with the ATM and supermarket, I was ready to stick to my original plan. I picked up water, a snack, and finally returned to my accommodation.
All in all, I walked about 7 kilometers today. It was a day full of unexpected twists, vibrant landscapes, and moments that tested my resilience. Back at the hostel, I sat at the bar with a cold Coke, reflecting on the day’s adventures.
Originally, I had planned to write about my last three months in Kilifi. But this spontaneous journey felt far more interesting. Stay tuned for my next post, where I’ll share more about my nomadic and minimalist life here in Africa.
Until next time, stay curious and embrace the detours. 🌍
