Nairobi - eventually

Silver Springs Hotel, Nairobi

Well, either the Oasis documentation needs updating, or I've just been done up like a kipper. The documents I have state that I should apply for a 'transit' visa, since it's twenty US dollars – unlike the 'single entry visa' for fifty. I'm allowed to do this, they say, since I'm in Kenya for less than seven days. Sadly, the immigration official didn't agree – 'you need single-entry visa, my friend', said in a not-particularly-friendly way. Frankly, I think he's somehow having me on, as the documentation is clear to me. I couldn't help but say to him, though, 'well, I guess there's no point in arguing with you.'

Actually, not half an hour before that I witnessed something which chilled me to the core. We were on the plane, waiting to disembark. I overheard an American accent, and turned to see a guy who looked like something out of 'Labrynth'. He had that swollen, bulbose nose and cherry complexion of someone who likes a drink or to, and judging by how slurred his words were, I think he'd been indulging this passion heavily on the flight from Dubai. He was talking to another elderly couple, waxing lyrical about the Masai Mara, where he'd been the month before. This was all well and good, but it was his next line that sent a shiver up my spine...

'Who are you doing your tour with? You're not doing it with Oasis, are you?'
[Inaudible mumbling]
'We did the trip with them...'
[More mumbling]
'Ach, they're all good....'

I think, then, I'm in the clear. Slightly upsetting to think a guy like that might have been on a trip like this. To be honest, I didn't hear all the details, so I might have it completely wrong. Chilling, though – and definitely not what I would have expected.

Nairobi, on the other hand, is everything I thought it would be – green, yet dusty, frenetic, yet no-one going anywhere fast. The driver grabbed me from the airport, pegging me instantly, then we were stopped at a toll point by a policeman holding the biggest, ugliest gun I've seen in real life. We were stuck in traffic on a semi-flooded road for an hour, while literally dozens of hawkers and peddlers passed between the cars, selling fruit, dvds, vegetable peelers, pillows, lampshades... (my driver bought a license wallet).

Reaching the hotel, I spotted an A4 sheet by reception, signed Rob. Two minutes later, the man himself walked passed. His first reaction was one of complete suprise – 'what are you doing here?', he asked.
'Um...'
'Are you coming on my trip?! Fantastic! They hadn't updated me on the passenger list this week.'

So, I'm not sure if that means they've 'lost' me, but I'm catching up with them in the bar later.

Later.