The Gates of Hell

In the end, only Owen, Alex and I elected to do Hell's Gate – the others choosing the easier walking day at Crater Lake. We went to select our bikes. As we approached the gate, I expected to see a rack of brand new top-of-the-range mountain bikes, well-greased chains glistening wetly, chrome gleaming in the morning light. Well of course, this is Kenya, so what we actually got was a motley group of five locals, each holding a rusty mountain bike. It seems that they bring their bikes down, we pick the bike we want, have a ride around, then John the Fixer pays the owner for it for the day. Half of the gears on mine worked, while Owen didn't have much in the way of brakes. Marcus, one of the guys from the village walk, led us off up the road on our bikes.

Today we rode around twenty-six kilometers in total. There wasn't that much in the way of animals – zebra, impala, warthog and a scary solitary Cape Buffallo – but I've seen animals, so this was about the scenery and the experience. Hell's Gate put us in mind of Arizona – big cliffs rising above the plains, rock towers here and there. We cycled in, dropped our bikes and hiked into the Hell's Gate Gorge. This was full of hot springs, and I got a great photo of Owen and Alex showering under a torrent of steaming water in the gorge. As we left the park, Marcus's bike broke, so he sent us the few kilometers along the road while he grabbed a 'matata' – these are mini-bus taxis. They seem to have a set route, and hold about ten or twelve people. They appear to have a crew of two – a driver, and a business-tout-cum-conductor who hangs out the offside window on the matata, shouting at people for business.

We rode until we reached a gate with 'geopower' written on it. This was another moment that was so typically African simply because it wasn't. As the hot springs might have suggested, this area is geothermal, and they've built a geothermal power plant to take advantage. We were having our lunch in the canteen for the power station accommodation block. Sausage and chips, of course. Anyway, after that we cycled back to camp, bid Marcus goodbye (after one of the stallholders at the gate tried to trade for Alex’s socks) and headed to the truck.

The afternoon was spent at Ellsamere – Joy Adamson’s house (she of ‘Born Free’ fame). It’s a lovely house on the lake, with a very small museum, a well-worn video, and most importantly, ‘afternoon tea’. I’m rather ashamed to admit I fell asleep during the video, then spent the rest of the afternoon stuffing myself with cake. Yum.