Did you forget to take your camera?

Sometimes travelling alone opens up opportunities to return to places. A few years ago I spent some time in Kenya.  In fact, for four months I navigated the country on my own with the help of strangers. It was wonderful, and at times overwhelming. The other day, I was reminded that one of the great things about travelling on your own is the ability to return to a place over and over again. Sometimes just to take a photograph.

It is beautiful in Kenya: sunny and warm, bougainvillea of every colour, jacaranda trees and a sea of never ending traffic and people. Quick smiles greeted me where ever I went. I had been in Nairobi for four days and have almost adjusted to normal sleeping hours. Each morning I am awakened by the Imam call to prayer - a haunting sound that draws me in to listen more intently to the sounds. Then the birds began their announcements, competing with one another to give their morning news.

My first morning I went to the David Sheldrick Elephant orphanage but forgot to take my camera!! It was sweet as some of the elephants (6 months to 3 years) were cooling themselves but using their tusks to dust red earth along their backs. Baboons lined the road as we headed  along side the road - actually baboons I think, I'll have to check "the book". Then to a sanctuary to feed Rothchild's giraffes - although somewhat touristy it was interesting. Warthogs gobbled up what remained from the pellets that dropped on the ground from people too scared to allow the giraffe's tongue to touch them.

When I came back to my room and washed my face it was covered in red dust from the elephants! The elephants haunted me and I was so upset that I didn't have an image of them I knew I had to return.

Whenever I travel alone and come across a taxi driver that I feel is trustworthy and helpful, I take their card. This has served me well when I am in a small city and need to get around. In this instance, I had taken the card of my taxi driver, Peter. It turned out that all my taxi drivers called themselves "Peter".  When I asked him that every taxi driver I had in Nairobi was called "Peter", and that perhaps he should come up with a different name to help identify himself to tourists, he explains that his Kukuyu name would be too difficult for tourists.

And so, we returned to David Sheldrick so I could photograph the LF-ants.