Our last week in Africa has been a week of indulgence and relaxation; no family to find, no graves to visit, just a few memories to chase…


I remember Mombasa quite well from when I visited this area as a child 58 years ago . My memories were of a beautiful coastline, a small seaside town with lovely hotels, clubs and beaches with white sands that stretched forever. I remembered the coral reef and exploring the millions of tiny pools in the sand left by the outgoing tide. I remembered living in a beach hut on the sands with geckos running up and down the walls and ceilings, monkeys on the veranda and the sound of heavy showers on the tin roof at night.


Reality is this: there’s still a beautiful coastline with white sands and a coral reef. Gone is the small seaside town of Mombasa; instead, a huge sprawling town, dirty and run-down. Beautiful hotels have been replaced by tatty resorts all along the coast between Mombasa and Vipingo. The geckos and monkeys still run amok in and around the house but instead of the beach hut with the tin roof, we are living in a luxury villa perched above the sands with beautiful views in every direction. The gardens and pool are spectacular . The rain still comes in short, sharp bursts but the noise of the fan above our bed blots out the sound of it and the surf below the house. Occasionally, the power has failed during the night and we have literally roasted, it is so hot at night - even with both doors and all windows in our bedroom wide open. The bed is netted and the staff spray our room each evening whilst we munch anti-malaria pills.


So not all bad, but not the Mombasa I remember. Independence has allegedly brought equality to the black people and the whites have basically left Kenya. Actually, the truth is that although a white face is scarce in this part of the country (unless it’s a tourist and they are few and far between), there is a small number of extremely rich Arabs and black Kenyans and a very large number of black people living in mud and grass huts in extreme poverty.


As a tourist, staying in the beautiful villa we have (another exchange!), life ain’t too bad . I haven’t cooked a meal, made a cup of tea or least of all, my bed in a week. We have been thoroughly spoilt by Margaret, our cook and housekeeper and Safari, our gardener. The owner of the property is Dutch and presumably we will meet him when he comes to France on his exchange with us. We have spent our days swimming in the pool and in the sea when the tide is in and lying in the shade because of the extreme heat. It has been lovely to relax after a couple of hectic weeks in Kenya and enjoy this beautiful, tropical spot. I have spent several days collecting pretty shells from the beach and making a ‘shell plate’. I ran out of glue half way through and Safari insisted on getting on his bike and heading off to get me some more. He was gone for several hours in the heat of the day and came back triumphant, clutching a small tube of superglue. ‘How much do I owe you?” I asked. “Oh, just 50 shillings” he said (35p)!” Needless to say, he was justly rewarded.


Even though Margaret cooks all our meals, we still have to do the shopping . There are only two half-decent supermarkets, one near Mombasa and one at Mtwapa. Security is as it was in Nairobi with car and body searches. The shops are pretty awful compared to South Africa and any fresh meat must be immediately frozen. Mombasa is essentially a Muslim town and so alcohol is expensive and bought from small kiosks, which are usually difficult to find.  


Apart from the shopping, we have only ventured out twice for lunch; on both occasions to the Ridge Golf Club which is a beautiful spot and boasts a wifi connection (when the electricity isn’t down). It is probably the only decent place in the area and the whole complex is dotted with extremely expensive villas and an air-strip. I have yet to see anyone play golf but we did see an old lady, on her knees, brushing the greens with a hand-held brush!


The flight from Nairobi to Mombasa takes only 40 minutes and on the way here, we arrived rather early for our flight . However, we were immediately ushered onto a waiting plane which was just wonderful. Our hire car is pretty ancient but at least the air conditioning works. The roads are awful as they always seem to be in Kenya and the major hazards in all towns and villages are home-made, unmarked speed bumps, pedestrians, cows, goats and mad lorry and taxi drivers.  


Tomorrow evening we fly back to Nairobi to catch a connecting flight to Paris. Sadly, that will be the end of our three month African adventure. However, if I am honest, we are both looking forward to returning to civilisation as we know it, and a cool, French spring in St Cyran! Thank you for following our blog and for all your lovely comments throughout our travels. We look forward to meeting up with our family and all our friends from all over the world in the not too distant future.