2nd November 2010
We are trying to do some shopping and manage to bargain for some kikois (they are like big cotton table clothes that can be worn as both skirts and tops0.
The starting price is US$25. We laugh and walk away, knowing that we can get one for US$12 in an official tourist shop.
In the end, AH pays US$15 for 2 and I pay US$8 for 1.
Despite having a local guide, we neither manage to track down a Kazu top for AH nor authentic Swaheli music. So it seems pointless to keep the guide, who seems to stir us towards certain outlets anyway.
The guide leaves us at a spot where we have been yesterday. All we need to do is walk back via the sea promenade – really straight forward.
Too straight forward and boring for AH. He wants to take a shortcut through the heart of town. After all, he has his compass, so why should there be any problems?
Well, everything looks alike for a start – but AH is in no mood to listen to my voice of reason. He wants a bit of adventure, and a bit of adventure we get.
We pass things I have noticed before, like the shop that mentions Chelsea football or the African Cine. Trouble is I can’t remember when I saw them today, where we then came from and where we were heading. And neither does AH or his compass.
As usual, I stay cool, calm and collected (not...) I can hear the clock ticking. We are meant to be back at the hotel soon to go to the ferry!
Trouble is, we only have the name for our hotel, not even a street, and get blank stares when we ask for directions.
In his desperation, AH finally asks in a bank for the way to the seafront, figuring that we can work our way back from there – and while we follow the directions, we come across the road that leads to our hotel. We had got lost within a few hundred yards of our destination!
Note to husbands: If you want to turn your wife into a chilled-out intrepid traveller, it pays to take familiar roads when there is a deadline to meet, it’s hot and humid and it’s lunch time....