Hakuna Matata! Or in Australian: Life is good!

Day 35

A jet ski races over the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean. In front of it, a peacefully chewing camel trots over the white sand, and right in front of my eyes is a green coconut with a straw sticking out of it. An absurdly paradisiacal image. But one that presented itself exactly like this afternoon and made me smile. I am on the coast.

The coconut gave me Cocobello. That's what I'm going to call him now because I find his name genius. He's an older guy who slurps the relaxedness of life, and he came up to me on the beach and wanted to sell me one of his two coconuts that he carried under his arm. Of course, I couldn't resist. While he cut it for me with his machete, I looked into his wrinkled black face and only saw one thing. Namely, the attitude towards life that he repeatedly showed me in the conversation. Hakuna Matata. 'No problems'. No, there really don't seem to be any here on the Kenyan coast. He told me to drink it in peace, and then he would cut it in a way that I could eat the flesh. I told him I would take my time, and Cocobello just said 'Yesss, pole pole', 'slowly, slowly'. It was delicious.

It has been a week since I left Kisumu, the city that had grown close to my heart during the four weeks I was there. Last Tuesday, I had to get up early. The alarm clock rang at 5:00 because an adventure was awaiting. I was going on a safari. It was always clear to me that I would go on a safari at least once here in Kenya, to experience the untouched nature and the freedom of wild and exotic animals far away from the paved roads. Because when you're here, you shouldn't miss this opportunity. I was lucky that Paul, a Make me Smile employee, knows certain people and was able to negotiate a relatively cheap price.

So we set off early. First, we took a tuk-tuk to the bus station. From there, after an hour and a half of waiting (during which I continuously thought about how I could still be sleeping), we took a four-hour matatu ride to Narok. This is a town north of the Masai Mara, where the safari was supposed to take place. There, I was picked up by the Land Cruiser and my travel group, who had started from Nairobi. My group consisted of a wild mix of people. An Italian hairdresser from London (he always sat in the front next to the driver and didn't say much), a New Zealand family of three with an extremely annoying little girl who talked non-stop during every ride. The Australian Dillan who was born in South Africa, and two guys my age from Belgium who are only in Kenya for one week, which I find not only absurd but also rude. But everyone was incredibly nice, and I got along very well with the Belgians and the Australian. We had our meals together at the same table. The Australian was a typical Australian as described in books, and even before he said where he was from, I knew with 100% certainty. Blonde curly hair, a cap on top, a tanned complexion, and an excessively wide grin on his face. As soon as you started talking to him, even a blind person would know. 'You're from Germany? Wow, nice man. How cool is that, man.' But it wasn't inauthentic, it suited him and made him likeable.

Often, whether on a tour or during a meal, he would just throw us three others a smiling 'Life is good' and the two Belgians and I would look at each other and usually respond with a classic rational Central European 'Yes. Sometimes.' And of course, we would smile back.

Regarding the safari, or rather the game drives, as the tours into the savannah by car are called, I can't really say much except that it was pure magic. It's simply indescribable. Imagine a Kenyan safari. Do you get it? It's impossible. That's how it was for me too, in the days before it started when I tried to visualize it. But a safari seems to be one of those experiences that you just have to have to be able to visualize it. Wild animals in their habitat, all living together, hunting, feeding, chilling, and simply free. Kilometers of freedom, and the people in their jeeps are the prisoners who can't go beyond. An impressive and unique experience that I will never forget.

After the safari, I took the Madaraka Express, a long-distance train built by the Chinese, from Nairobi to the coast. Here too, I was able to spot some elephants and zebras from the window. So, it was an additional free safari.

And now I am in Mombasa. The second part of my journey has begun, and I want to take it a bit slower now. Pole pole, as Cocobello would say. When I jumped into the warm bath-like sea earlier, it felt like I received a kiss from home. With a grin, I splashed around in the shimmering water. The sea just gives me a certain connection, no matter where in the world. For the next time, I am here on the coast and will visit a few places. It is very different here compared to the recent Lake Victoria. Swahili instead of Luo, a new language, a few more Mzungus, holiday vibes, and much warmer nights (it never gets colder than 24 degrees at night). I am curious to see what the time brings and whether the relaxed mentality of the coastal dwellers captivates or tires me. So far, I am getting along very well with it. Especially when I am offered a freshly prepared coconut while roasting in the sun.

In this sense, Hakuna Matata. Or as Dillan would say: Life is good, man!