Talk about a rough start. I left Germany on the first of February. After a layover in Cairo, I arrived in Nairobi at about 4 in the morning the next day. I went outside to meet my pickup from the hostel. I did not see him, and that was because he wasn’t there.

Little did I know, that was only to be the start of my problems.

The hostel had miscommunicated the day that I was arriving, and someone was there to pick me up the following day, but I was obviously no longer at the airport at that time. I ended up walking up and down the gauntlet of people holding signs with peoples’ names on them to only be met with disappointment. There was nobody waiting for me. A rather pushy taxi driver eventually convinced me to let him help me. He did actually call the hostel for me, and nobody picked up. The taxi driver and I ended up discussing a price, which was a little more than what I would have had to pay for the hostel pickup, and we departed.

The hostel I booked was cheap. Like only $4 USD a night cheap. I initially thought I had scored a deal, but I then ended up researching the area to discover that Kibera, the city section that my hostel was in, was one of the biggest slums in Africa. When I found out, I could have changed my booking to a different location, but I decided to go for it anyway.

As my taxi driver was aimlessly driving around the area once we got there while we looked for the difficult-to-locate hostel, he kept lamenting on how I should not be there, and even he wouldn’t want to be there.

Most of the streets were dark. There seemed to be little electricity in general, and indeed many people still use coal to cook their food (although I am not sure if that’s what they used for lighting as well). Practically every building’s walls and roofs are made out of corrugated metal, and sewage freely flowed in ditches alongside the road while piles of trash let off a stench that forced me to breathe through my shirt.

We eventually did find the place, and we banged on the door a few times. An employee opened the door at around 5 in the morning, and he let me check in and everything, so that was nice. I got in my room, and I have to say, for only 4 bucks, it actually wasn’t too bad. I had my own room with my own bathroom, and even though the condition of the walls and such wasn’t the best, it could have certainly been worse for such a price.

I was tired, so I went to sleep and slept until about noon. After waking up, I freshened up and decided it was time to see what Nairobi was all about, and I most certainly would.

I hopped in a bus and went downtown. It was a bumpy road, but we got downtown after maybe 20 or so minutes. I stepped outside the bus, did my pocket check, and realized my wallet was missing.

I ran after the bus and jumped back in, explaining that my wallet was gone, and they just kind of mumbled an apology before carrying on. I was actually sitting the entire time I was on the bus, but I guess someone sat next to me and managed to worm it out of my pocket during the bumps and I hadn’t noticed. I’m actually kind of impressed. What a thief. A pain in the butt, but still impressive.

I figured the first thing I should do was go to the police. I asked the people near me, and they directed me to a police station just around the corner. I went there and explained that my wallet was stolen, and what a process that was. They kept asking me what happened, and I had to explain multiple times that my wallet was taken, and they kind of just didn’t seem to know what to do. Eventually, someone was called in, and they said I was very lucky and that they were going to write a police report. It seemed like they felt they were doing me a huge favor by writing a police report, which, maybe due to my upbringing, I felt was the least they should do. While listing off what was taken, I told them that about 100 dollars in cash were taken, my driver’s license, and my credit cards. They kept insisting that my credit cards getting stolen wasn’t so bad because I could go to Safaricom (a phone service provider) and get a new (sim) card for my phone. I guess when I had mentioned that I needed a phone or internet to cancel my stolen (credit) cards, they just got the idea that I was talking about a sim card, and practically no amount of explaining seemed to get them on the right train of thought. I tried explaining that it was a credit card, a card used to pay for things, a card I could pull money out of an ATM, a Visa, a MasterCard, an American Express, but they just kept insisting that I could go to Safaricom and get another one. I was screaming inside. I should probably also mention that I noticed that every single one of them had bloodshot eyes and seemed lethargic, so I guess I understand why they had such a hard time understanding things after their smoking. Eventually though, I got the guy to write “credit cards” on the police report, and we were done. They said they would find the guy who stole it and get my wallet back (spoiler: they didn’t), and then they asked me for a little something for them helping me so much since tipping and bribing is such an expectation. After scooping up my jaw from the floor, I kindly reminded them that my wallet was just stolen and I had nothing to offer. They mumbled a sort of grudging understanding, and I went outside. They never did end up giving me access to a phone or internet to cancel my cards unlike when my stuff got stolen in Rio de Janeiro, where the police had a phone and even the direct numbers to cancel all major credit cards ready.

While I was in the station, there was some other guy near the train station that had kind of led me to the police station. I am not really sure who he was, but he did end up trying to help me after the police as well. I explained that my main priority was to get internet access so I could cancel my credit cards so the thief would not be able to use them. But he also just didn’t quite seem to get it. We ended up walking around the city for a bit until we got to ….Safaricom! I tried explaining that I did not need a sim card at the moment, what I needed was internet access. I needed a Wi-Fi connection. I now know open Wi-Fi connections aren’t a big thing in Africa as everyone has a sim card with a data plan. So in hindsight, it would have been better to use the little cash I still had in my pocket (luckily, not all my cash was stolen, although a good chunk of it was) to buy a sim card, but I was just hoping to find a Wi-Fi connection. We ended up roaming all over downtown, and although I did find some open Wi-Fi connections, none of them seemed to actually connect to the internet. After about 5 hours of walking and fruitlessly trying to connect to every connection, we finally found an internet café, and my de facto guide asked them if I could connect to their internet. She let me, and I managed to communicate the necessary details to a friend who called my bank and canceled my cards for me. I actually had a separate card that wasn’t stolen, but when the bank canceled my stolen cards, they would only cancel all my cards, which was quite annoying.

I was feeling a bit overwhelmed at this point, and I figured I was going to need the help of some locals. I knew I was going to need to get a replacement card sent to me, and my hostel didn’t appear to have a normal mailing address. I also knew I was going to need an internet connection in the coming days as I organized a replacement card, and that was also something my hostel didn’t offer. I decided to call upon the help of Couchsurfing and messaged a few people for advice and to maybe see if they could host me and offer me any assistance. Luckily, someone did respond and organized an Über ride to come and pick me up.

I ended up staying at that place for a couple of weeks. Most couchsurfers (myself included) typically aren’t a fan of hosting someone for more than 3 or 4 nights, but my host was fine with letting me stay there as long as I needed. It was kind of a curious situation in that it wasn’t actually his place but rather a friend’s of his. In the one-bedroom place, there was the person who actually had the apartment and his friend in the bedroom. In the living room were 2 mattresses—I slept on one while my couchsurfing host and his girlfriend slept on the other one. It was fine, though, and everyone was very nice and welcoming. They fed me and were all okay with me being there for such an extended period.

We didn’t do all that much while I was there. It seems there’s not a lot to do in Nairobi anyway, but everyone in the place also seemed to have the habit of staying up late, like until 5 or even later in the morning late, and then sleeping through most of the day. So by the time my host was up and about, it was often already 3 or 4 in the afternoon, haha. But we did go out to a couple of bars and such in the evenings.

As far as getting a replacement card sent to me, I had to wait until Monday before I could call my bank since my card was stolen on a Saturday. Monday finally rolls around, and I started a flurry of calls. Long story short: the bank was not willing to send me a replacement card in Kenya out of security reasons, so the solution was to have it sent to a friend in Germany and have him then send it to me via DHL. Because apparently sending it to someone other than the intended recipient and having him open it and then putting it in another envelope is much more secure? It also appears that addresses to have something sent to (even delivered to a house like DHL supposedly would) is not so easy when there aren’t really street names or numbers. I tried asking the American embassy if I could have it sent there, but they said I couldn’t, also for security reasons. In the end, I found out that I could actually just have it sent to the DHL office, and I could then pick it up there. After I found that out, I could finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel. After about a week, my friend in Germany got my new Visa, and he sent it overnight with DHL, which cost 72€. It did not arrive overnight, and it ended up taking 4 days. Rather annoying when one pays such a premium price….

But, finally, after 2 weeks without a card, I got another one. But I still didn’t have the PIN. After some more calling, I found out it’s because they send the PIN a few days after the card, also for security reasons, but it was just being a pain at that point. So I had a card, but I still couldn’t pull money out with it… However, just later that evening, my friend sent me a message with the PIN, and I was good to go. Now free, I ended up going out with another couple couchsurfers I met and we went to the giraffe park, where we got to kiss giraffes! It also just happened to be Valentine’s Day when we went there, so it was fitting to get kissed on such a day.

I left Nairobi the next day.

As an aside, the doors in Kenya are quite interesting. Completely steel, and they don’t actually have a conventional lock on them. What they have is a hole on the outside that one can reach inside to access the crossbar and unlock the padlock.

I originally only wanted to spend about up to 2 weeks in each country in Africa, and I had already spent just over that in Kenya. But I decided that I needed to see something in Kenya besides Nairobi. I originally wanted to see Lake Victoria, but a few of the people I met told me that it really wasn’t a pretty lake, and a google search kind of confirmed that. They said Lake Nakura was much nicer, but I couldn’t really find a feasible way of seeing it without spending 200 USD for just one day. Every national park in Africa, it seems, tends to have a steep entry fee. Add in the fact the one needs to have/rent a car, maybe a driver, and other costs, and it gets really expensive to see any national park.

I did some more googling, and I found out that a guide to Mt. Kenya should only be 100 bucks for the 3 days it would take to climb the mountain. I would have loved to climb Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, but that looked like it started off at around $2,000. Since Mt. Kenya was the second highest mountain in Africa and highest in Kenya and the price was so much lower, I figured that was doable, and I went to Nanyuki. Upon getting there and asking around, I quickly found out that the 100 I thought was only part of the whole package, packages of which I was getting quotes from 450 to 650 USD.

It was considerably more expensive than I had originally anticipated, but since I was already there, and I hadn’t really spent much money the past couple weeks since I quite literally couldn’t, I decided to go for it regardless.

I did some asking around, and I managed to find a guide who would take me up to the top for 350. The thing was, it wasn’t actually the guide I was directly talking with; it was a broker in between us. Afterward, the guide gave me the lowdown on how the whole system works.

Basically, the fees were as follows:

3 days park access: $52 per day = $156
Camping Fee: $20
Guide fee: $100
Food: $30
And then there were some other things, rounding it out to 350.

The thing was, although you are in the park for 3 calendar days, you start at about 1pm on the first day and leave by the same time on the 3^rd day, so you are there for less than 48 hours. Since the tickets are per 24-hour period and not calendar day, you only need 2 days’ access. What happens is that the broker only ends up buying you one day at the gate. He keeps one day’s fee, and the ranger keeps the other day, and then everyone turns a blind eye to the fact that you only have a 1-day pass but are there for what would actually necessitate 2 day’s access. Additionally, the broker ends up keeping the large majority (I understood about 70 of the 100) of the guide’s fee. So the broker makes off like a bandit, the ranger takes a small chunk as well (which means less money for the government), and the guide, who is actually doing all the hard work, maybe makes 30 bucks. Most people aren’t aware that this is how it happens because the guides actually hold the access tickets, so the guests remain unaware. My guide was really chill and also understandably not pleased about this cartel that the rangers and brokers have, so he told me everything.

Before I commenced on the hike, though, my couchsurfing host and I visited the equator, right in the town of Nanyuki.

In any case, the hike went amazing. I didn’t need any porters since I was willing to carry my own backpack. Although I wanted to help carry some of the food, Ernest was super adamant about carrying it all.

We took the Sirimon route, so the first day we hiked from the entrance of the park to Old Moses camp and set up a tent. That was a pretty easy day.

The next day, we woke up really early and made our way to Shipton camp.

That day was quite a bit tougher. It was a pretty steady ascent, and the air was getting thinner all the time. Additionally, I admit that I think I could have been in better shape, as I haven’t been too active the past couple months during the cold winter.

I was struggling near the end of the day, but we made it and set up the tent. While chilling in the evening, it also got quite chilly. It even snowed on us for a little, and I ended up getting really cold.

I had my fleece jacket and a rain jacket, but they just weren’t enough to keep me warm. I don’t think I have ever actually been that cold in my life before. I can’t explain why, but getting hit by that snow and the wind simply chilled me to the bone, and I was shivering more than I ever have in my life. I knew that the following morning would be even colder when we went to the top, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it with the jackets that I had. Fortunately for me, my guide knew some other people, and one of them had a spare jacket I could borrow. I was only a thin down jacket, but it made a world of a difference and I immediately went from uncontrollably shivering to being actually comfortable with the temperature. We went to sleep, and I was awoken at 2 in the morning the next day. We had a light snack and bundled up for the final stretch. We left our backpacks behind us, so there was very little to carry, and Ernest and I made quick work of the trail. There were a few other groups that had started before us, and we swiftly caught up to them and overtook them. Some people were pushing themselves too hard, and I think about 15 or so people that we passed had actually stopped to throw up. I didn’t stick around to see if they continued, but I imagine they turned back around, and they weren’t the only ones to turn back around before reaching the summit. The two of us marched forward, and right before sunrise, we reached the summit.

We stuck around for a few minutes, took some photos, and then decided to come back down. The view was beautiful, but the chilly wind was just too much, and we still had a bit of a hike in front of us.

We descended the peak to our camp and packed up our bags. We then powerwalked back out the way we came. It was a lot of hiking, and the majority of it was downhill, and my legs actually started to really hurt, particularly the tendons on the sides of my knees. It took us about 5 hours to hike out to the Old Moses camp. From there, we got picked up and I returned to Nanyuki to rest for a night. A rest that was much needed because I could barely move my legs.

Ernest was a great guide, and I would highly recommend him to anyone who wants to climb Mt. Kenya. He won’t charge outrageous fees and is super transparent with the prices. If anyone wants to get in contact with him, his contact information is as follows:

Ernest Koome Kiruki
+254 0726830011
Renegadeassociates@yahoo.com

As a small aside, it was about this time that I understood why I got such weird looks when I said I thought pirates are cool. I have a jolly roger flag tattooed on my arm, and quite a few people in Kenya had asked me about it, and I always told them that I thought pirates are cool. The thing is, my association of pirates is the romanticized, shiver me timbers, golden age of pirates that comes from Hollywood. The association that most Kenyans seemed to have with pirates was the very real and modern Somalian pirates that actively attacked and killed people, including Kenyans, in the Indian Ocean. I have since tried to dodge the question when people ask me about that tattoo since it just doesn’t jive well with the people here.

After staying in Nanyuki for the night, I went back to Nairobi for one night. While I was there, I went to the city market, and I must confess, I didn’t like it.

There are a lot of cool things for sale, but every single person that you walk by wants to engage you and invite you in to look at their shop and offer you all sorts of items and to discuss prices. It’s really annoying when I just want to walk around and look at thing. The Maasai markets are honestly the same way, and I kind of just started avoiding them. But even then, people approach you on the street all the time no matter where you’re walking. They try to get you to come into their shop or sell a safari or something like that, and I have had to sometimes use multiple different excuses to turn them down. A couple times I just had to start ignoring someone because they wouldn’t leave me alone for several minutes as I walked down the street.

Anyways, I caught the shuttle bus the following morning to Arusha, Tanzania, where the next leg of my adventure would take place in the form of a safari.