Arrival in Nairobi

My journey in East Africa has begun.

The first time I realised that I was leaving Europe was, when the coast of the Italian island of Sicily could not be seen anymore from my tiny airplane window. An hour later the plane flew over the beautiful, reddish, strange and hostile appearing desert of North Africa. Barely any sight of human settlement or plant growth could be seen on this barren land, which was covered with spots of sandy dunes. You could see the how the wind had structured the sand in a certain direction. I saw the sun slowly retreating behind the horizon making way for another dark cold night in the desert while I was completely conscious that my newest adventures were now about to begin.

While flying in dark I saw on the screen in front of me that Nairobi was less than an hour away, which made me quite nervous and exited. The last few days before my departure I had been hearing some frightening stories on the town that is sometimes called Nairobbery. Car hijackings and armed robberies are not uncommon in the Kenyan capital that is considered the most dangerous in the whole of Africa. With all sensors on alert, I walked out the airport where I found my name on a board, which was held by a small friendly woman. She guided me to a taxi driver who introduced me, while we were driving away from the airport, to the basics of the Swahili language and Kenyan customs.

Asante means thank you and Salama means hello. I was assured that a near hit with another car was just part of the normal Kenyan driving style. The taxi brought me to the hostel safely and I felt a bit stupid for having feared the unknown so much.

The people I met during my first few hours were very social, easy going and friendly.