March 17.

Marion's birthday. Started off in not too bad style with a good, though breadless, breakfast, muesli with banana and peanuts and tinned milk, followed by fried 'smash' and tinned meat and our last egg (for Marion).

Four miles on our way, and the engine faltered and stuttered; we managed to keep going until we were on a falling gradient, and stopped to investigate. This was to be our location for the rest of the day. The spring on the rotor arm had broken off. The spare rotor arm was no better. A German Volkswagen turned up and helped for a while without result, but they did agree to swap a tin of bread (pumpernickel), an end of a loaf and three lollipops for a tin of corned beef. They left us as very heavy rain started to fall and we had lunch in the van; the delicious black rye bread soon filled us with satisfaction. We had earlier put up the awning as a sunshade for schoolwork, so now we used it for collecting rain water in bowls to augment our dwindling supply, and Marion got soaked. More hot sun later, and Marion got a lift back to the border where our Siafu friends were still waiting around for their papers to be sorted out. She brought three of them back to help us again, and they stayed three hours till 11.30pm. It was a cold evening (54F). This would have been a very pleasant birthday evening at home.

Jennifer sums up the day: "now we are in tanzania. We have stopped at the side of the road. Our van can not go. So we will play with our cars."

March 18. Sunday.

Marion went to church (you might say) to get help. That is to say, she got a lift to a mission station at Rulenge, 30 miles away. I did more useless electrical work. She returned in the afternoon with Father Bedel, a new coil, a circuit tester, bread, cakes, flour, baked beans and tinned fish. He was a mechanic, and soon got down to work.

The new coil did start the engine but very falteringly, and the trouble was traced to the contact breaker plate which had become displaced. By 5.30 the engine was again running perfectly, and I replaced our own coil. We decided to spend another night here rather than arrive late at a camp site we had been offered at the mission. A good supper with our fresh purchases on a warmer evening, followed by a game of 'beetle' and our own E.African version 'elephant'.

We had seen a few antelope, but as this is shooting country we are unlikely to see much game. However, Marion was attracted down the road by sounds of a tin being scraped, and saw a hyena-size shape disappearing into the long grass.

March 19.

A good travelling day at last. We reached the mission at Rulenge and found Father Bedel again in the workshop. We returned his new coil, and took advice on stopping a petrol leak on the carburettor by using gasket cement. One of the Siafu Landrovers arrived seeking mechanical assistance, which was soon willingly given. This mission deserves a place on the map of anyone travelling this route. We also all had a very welcome hot shower.

Then on through more nice scenery with interesting flowers, birds and trees, leading down from our 5000 feet altitude into the flatter Lake Victoria country. Lunch among tall elephant grass ("A little bit taller than me," says Peter) in rather too hot sunshine. On to Biharamulo to get petrol and have a change to our evening meal pattern in the Hotel Bimi Myota. This was very like the restaurant at Sake. Omelette for three, meat, rice and gravy for three, and coffee for three. It cost twelve Tanzanian shillings, say 40p, as cheap as buying and cooking our own. Another seven miles before camping in a clearing where the grass was not five feet high which seems to be the standard.

Sugarbush flowers were notable all day, 'Canterbury bells', black widow birds with extraordinarily long tails, partridge and many unidentified russet-winged speckled-breasted magpie-like birds, and a mongoose. We saw no habitations until 30 miles from the border, although the country all seemed very green and cultivable compared to central Africa.

110 miles in the day. Good.

March 20.

Another good travelling day of 109 miles. That is, until the potential calamitous end.

Started in rain, and were soon stopped in a small village by two soldiers. Why ? Because of the military bearing of the vehicle, perhaps. They accused us of having a Ugandan number plate; the number of U's in the London registration NUU 605E must have looked suspicious and they are not friends of Uganda at the moment. Was this any connection with the convoys of army lorries and buses that had passed us late last night, perhaps moving up to the Uganda border under cover of darkness ?

A marketing stop at Geita, our first Tanzanian market, attractively surrounded by cassia trees in flower. Cheap meat, less cheap vegetables, and bananas again. We had run out of our sweet little Rwandan ones and seen no roadside vendors since; quite different from previous countries. These were large ones, "English bananas," according to Peter. I also changed money; two Indian shops and two African ones refused and the bank was closed, but, back at the van, one of the Indians came up with money in his hand; he had been unable to do the deal while Africans were in his shop.

We stopped for lunch a few miles farther on when we saw several brilliantly coloured birds, oranges, reds and yellows; the yellows probably weaver birds, the oranges red bishops. As we got out a black ibis stalked off into the long grass. There were small pools with mauve water lilies beside the road. A young man asked us for his bus fare home, so we offered him a lift. He was able to give us useful information on the local scene, but not so good on English words for most of the flora and fauna. His village, Sengerema, was quite large and the brightly coloured clothes on sale in the market encouraged us to stop again. Bo and I bought an exciting design of blue and white cloth for curtains or table cloth; being twice the size of any table cloth, Bo will keep half, the rest to be Marion's birthday present. Soon after I took a photo of children and a dog enjoying playing about in another water lily pool; an attractive scene, but not for swimming for us, we thought.

We found a camp site in an area liberally dotted with rocky and boulder strewn little hills. We took a very minor track, easing our way through long grass and cotton fields to a suitable lonely clearing. Now came the calamity. While manoeuvering into the best parking position there was suddenly an ominous 'clonk-clonk-clonk' from the back axle region. Any more movement was impossible. Differential or halfshaft, I thought. Calamity, anyway. And we were by now several hundred yards off the road and away from any passing help. I set to work. I spent half an hour removing one of the halfshafts and eventually extracting 3/4 of it; it came out with a horribly jagged twisted fractured end; the other 1/4 remained firmly stuck in the differential. Complete despondency did not last long, however. I soon realised that, with this shaft removed and four-wheel drive engaged, we could still travel on using front-wheel drive only.

So we were able to spend a hopeful evening in the end in our 'halfshaft hideout', despite the attention of mosquitoes in force, the croaking of bullfrogs and the pervasive clacking of grasshoppers.

March 21.

A successful journey onward to Busisi and on to a ferry across a narrow arm of Lake Victoria. The lake was a pleasant surprise, in a rocky landscape and dotted with little islands of rocks. We had expected a swampy reedbed shore with, perhaps, crocodiles lurking. We found the ferry full with a bus, a lorry and a Landrover, and had to spend an hour eating bananas and admiring pied kingfishers and weaver birds. Then on the ferry we were jammed between two buses, leaving behind several lorries to wait for another few hours. The 1/4 hour voyage cost us 70p. Arab type dhows are used here (this is part of the Nile, after all).

The last 12 miles to Mwanza was on a tarmac road. Approaching the town, we noticed a steam locomotive taking water outside the engine shed, so I ordered a stop. We were invited into the shed to walk around and have a close inspection of the two more steam locos and a diesel. This little unusual excursion was much enjoyed by all. The locos were 2-8-2s of British make (1955), and a 2-8-4.

In the town we found a garage to consider our halfshaft problem . The mangled piece was beyond their powers of repair and the front shaft was the wrong size to replace it. So we are doomed to rely on front-wheel drive only at least as far as Nairobi.

Decision time, and change of plans.

Abandoned our hope of driving through the Serengeti National Park. Even abandoned hope of driving all the way to Nairobi by any route. There was another way open to us: a 'sea voyage'. That is to say, the Lake Victoria ferry direct to Kisumu in Kenya, and thence a good road for the last 200 miles to Nairobi. The more we thought about this the more attractive it seemed. Enquiries revealed that the weekly ferry was leaving the next day, and ambulances could travel too. So it was not difficult to make that decision.

Marion set out to stock up with food, and I got down to necessary maintenance jobs. To cheer up the evening we went out to another good meal, in an Indian owned but African style restaurant.

Having decided we would like to camp by the lakeside, we found a track leading us to the drive of an attractive European style house, where an American lady kindly invited us to camp in her garden. So we drank coffee and went to sleep to the sound of the lapping waters of Lake Victoria Nyanza. (The name long remembered from distant geography lessons of far away places too far to travel to.)

We had reached a significant stage, and began wondering whether our exploring and our 'explorer' would ever get beyond Nairobi.

March 22, Thursday.

Sausage and egg and a new jar of honey for my birthday breakfast in our garden. Marion presented me with a new torch, and I had cards from Timothy and Jennifer, hers a prophetic picture of a ship with us all looking out of portholes -- one each.

Back to the garage at 8 o'clock for them to finish off their temporary repairs, and they lent us a car with driver for the next hectic 2 1/2 hours of preparations for our voyage. We found that the van was unable to travel with us on the passenger ferry; we would have to leave it at Southport, the cargo port, and it could follow next day. This involved customs formalities, sorting out the things we would need for two days into rucksacks, making sure that someone knew how to drive it on to the boat in front wheel drive, and then waiting for Bo to return from the bank with the money to pay for it. This was the critical factor. When she did come, she was in a taxi, having lost the garage car, so we bundled everything in and reached the passenger quay at 10.20. Our MV Victoria was all ready to sail at 10.30. When the five minute hooter sounded we were still in the customs shed signing currency forms. As we rushed on board the last gangway was raised behind us. We sailed at 10.30 on the dot.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing on the deck under a shady roof, and appreciating our luck and the complete change of scene. MV Victoria is a large cross-channel type vessel, with many mod cons, suitable for the 22 hour voyage ahead. Lake Victoria is a big lake. We had managed to bring an adequate supply of books, toys, cards and writing materials, and food. For lunch we had a 'birthday cake' made by Marion the evening before -- an excellent fruity roly-poly pudding mixture; coffee and Coca-cola from the bar. Our evening meal; we had in the ship's restaurant. Omelette and chips for the children, meat and matoka with a curry sauce for us adults. Matoka is a green banana dish like mashed potato. Timothy had been saying for weeks, if not months, that what he would most like is chips. This has been the first opportunity. Peter records the meal as "omlette and chips with tomato ketchup !"

This meal was after our arrival at Musoma, where we spent 2 1/2 hours and watched the cranes loading and unloading. We were then turned off our seats on deck where we had established our own 'private' area which was now to be locked off for the night. This left just eight seats available for the 70-odd second class passengers. Eventually we were able to occupy these; many people must have had cabins. Sleeping, some on the seats, some on the deck, we spent a reasonably comfortable night. Marion slept below Timothy in case he fell off the seat; he did, several times, and finished the night on the deck.

March 23.

We had a dawn approach to Kisumu up the Kavirondo Gulf, a long arm of the lake, and docked at 7am precisely. Breakfast on board before landing. Then a passport check, and we were in KENYA.

The day was spent largely on a grassy patch beneath a shady tree here on the Equator again, between port and railway with a good view of steam engines shunting around. Near the town centre for shopping and money changing. Marion visited the British Council library to consult flower books, others played cards and cars, and I visited the station where I found the following notice: "It is forbidden to take into the waiting room the following articles: 1. Bunches of bananas 2. Crates of fowls..." and other unlikely items. So we will have to be careful. We also found habitation for the night -- two single rooms at 10/- (Kenya shillings) each in the 'Masena Paradise Bar board and lodging house'. Limited facilities, but comfortable beds for some of us and plenty of sleeping bags to lie on for others. Rather warm. Paradise ? We went out to an evening meal. Fish and yet more chips (rice for me in my still low fat regime), ice creams (the first in Africa), and our first samosas, the ubiquitous small crispy pancakes containing meat or vegetables. Earlier we had also discovered jaggeri, brown unrefined rather sticky sugar, very sweet and cheap, sold as conical sticks and tasting like treacle fudge. Indian. Nearly all shops in Kisumu are Indian. Tea at cafes comes already mixed with milk and sugar in the pot. Different but good.

March 24.

Back to the port office at 8am as instructed. No cargo boat had arrived from Mwanza.

Back again at 10. This time there was not only a boat at the quay, but also our ambulance sitting on a railway truck beside it. Quite a relief. But it was not until after 11.30 that I was able to drive it away. It had to travel by train from the quay to the goods shed. There the unloading ramp was under repair, but luckily the truck was parked beside a platform so that it was possible to drive off sideways with the side of the truck lowered. A very helpful unloading gang made all this much easier. Signing a few papers then took a little more time, but eventually I was back at our 'hotel' to collect the others.

After lunch by the lake and an inspection of the vehicle to make sure everything was in order, we were off on the road to Nairobi. After only 21 miles of straight rather boring flat road, we stopped to camp as we had things to do like washing, and plucking and cooking a cockerel. We were in open bush country with scattered thorn trees well grazed by cattle, and soon had several visitors from neighbouring huts. Nowhere is far from a hut. One of the crowd took Bo and the children to meet his family.

March 25, Sunday.

A day of good progress. 105 miles. Up about 3500 feet and over the hills dividing the lake from the rift valley proper, through acres of tea gardens around the town of Kericho. We stopped to have a look. The closely planted 2 1/2 foot bushes looking like privet grow with very even tops. From a distance they look like mown grass. Peter records the morning thus: "We went up and up and when we were up we saw tea plantations. The roads have numbers like B1 and A109. We had lunch in a very english looking place. After lunch Mummy found a chamelion. Later we saw a secatary bird and went over a bridge at the same time as an engine went under it." Then down 1500 feet freewheeling for several miles into the valley at Nakuru. Very English scenery on the high land, pastures and cornfields separated by fences and dotted with woods. Ryeland type sheep well wool covered, so different from the scraggy goat-like sheep of most of Africa. And Friesian cows. We also saw donkeys in use for the first time since Algeria.

At Nakuru, a modern floriferous town, we made for the lake. Its 1 1/2 million flamingoes are famous. But we will have to return tomorrow to view them after a visit to a bank. On looking for a camp site we failed to climb a 1 in 4 hill of loose gravel on the road to the Merengai Crater in front wheel drive only, so we camped nearer the main road in an area of 'high class residences' in a field of dried up grass sufficiently remote to be unobtrusive. No young local visitors here.

Marion's foot which has had a septic spot due to walking on a sharp stone has now developed into a whole aching leg with suffused red marks creeping up it. Bo has started her on a penicillin course. Bo and I have both had septic spots on ankles recently, still under treatment, mine thought to be due to low blood condition after illness.

Kenyan beer lorries are a too obvious feature of the roads. Tusker' must be a popular drink. We have seen in a paper that Tanzania denies moving up troops to the Uganda border for an invasion. So what of those convoys that passed us in the night near Biharamulo a week ago?

March 26.

The flamingoes came fully up to expectations in the Nakuru National Park. A distant pink beach along most of the shoreline turned out to be a rippling mass of flamingoes on nearer approach. Soft mud made it impossible to get near enough for close photos, but the whole effect was most impressive. We identified the two types, the greater and lesser, the lesser being far the more numerous. Some of the flocks were moving in unison along the shore like a great pink stream. They consume 150 tons of algae between them each day. Yet they don't breed here and apparently no one knows where they do, which seems rather extraordinary. The list of birds and animals seen is almost too long to assimilate in one day.

I enjoyed seeing the hippos lying 100 yards out in the lake. A great yawn by one preceded a submergence without even a ripple, and surfacing just as calmly five seconds later. The rest of the family were less impressed; they had seen hippos much closer in the Virunga Park. in Zaire. Thompson's gazelle are beautiful bounding antelopes. Of the five different antelope we saw, these 'Tommies' and impala were the most numerous, the waterbuck the most approachable. Also the Bohor's reedbuck with its hook-tipped horns, and little dikdiks, the smallest of antelopes. No monkeys, but we did see rock hyrax, attractive furry rodents scuttling down holes among the rocks of Baboon Escarpment.

We covered the whole 15 miles of road skirting the lake from the deep hippo pool in the NE corner through the acacia woodlands to the open bush country of the southern shore. The birds are really the object of the park's existence. Pelicans in great numbers, both white ones and the rarer pink-backed variety, spoonbills, the cormorant-like African darter, storks (yellow-billed and marabou, the latter being even more obvious on the municipal rubbish dump outside, like vultures), cormorants, both long-tailed and white-necked, black-and-white sacred ibis, Egyptian geese, crowned cranes, and three secretary birds strutting through the grass in the open plain. Among many smaller birds we identified the striking blacksmith plover, black-winged stilts, pied kingfishers, fiscal shrikes, speckled mousebirds; and moorhens, greenshanks and blue-headed wagtails, all these last three being rather uncommon.

The day inspired Jennifer's last diary entry: " There were so many flamingoes that the lake looked pink. We climbed in to a little tree house to see the birds. We saw a hippopotamus in the lake as well."

We chose to have lunch in the picnic site in a hay field. We saw only three other tourist vehicles all day, so did not feel overcrowded. We were there from 9.30 till 4. Bo, Marion, Peter and I treated it as a birthday celebration outing, none of us having had very special birthdays on the way. And Marion's leg had greatly improved.

Back to last night's 'residential grassland' camp site, where we had a strong evening wind again and a little rain, and sat inside the van after supper. 10C temperature seemed cold after the 31C at midday. By afternoon Jennifer and Timothy had seen enough new birds and animals, and were more interested in playing with familiar cars at every stop. But the rest of us were hoping there would be plenty more wild life to come.

March 27.

On down the rift valley to Naivasha. Near here we located Ol' Morogo, the home of Sir John Hewett, so decided to drop in for a friendly visit. Not exactly an old acquaintance, merely the brother of Marion's former next-door neighbours in Dinas Powis whose address we had with us. We found the large house two miles down a rough track, but no one at home. We made friends with three dogs and two eland in pens (whom we could feed by hand) while waiting for more signs of life. An hour or so later he did return, but his wife had just gone off on safari today. We had drinks in the large very British dining room, reminding Marion of that at Nantlys with many dark oil paintings on the walls, while the children played outside on grandchildren's swing, bicycle and cars. Then we had our picnic lunch in the floral and sweet-smelling garden before coffee on the terrace with him and a neighbour, and seven dogs with coffee-cup-lashing tails. Four servants bustled round. He has 3600 acres, mainly cattle and some sheep; too dry for crops; and too dry to make the Kenyans demand the land back from its British owner. Yet he has been here since 1914 and has no intention of returning to Britain to do the washing up ! In the garden were several new birds for us, including superb starling, white eye and glossy starling, and rock hyrax in the cactus garden. We then drove on across the valley floor to the foot of the escarpment in the Aberdare Mountains, and camped in the bush amongst euphorbia trees.

Nairobi tomorrow ?

March 28.

Yes. NAIROBI.

Up the escarpment looking out over the volcanoes of Longonot and Suswa sticking up out of the rift valley floor. At the top, Kikuyu country. Red soil, small villages, maize, bananas and sorgum growing, women with bunches of coloured earrings, but most people in drab untidy clothes, donkeys pulling water carts, sheepskins and caps for sale by the roadside.

Then a long downhill freewheel ride for eight miles reaching 58 mph, our fastest in Africa. We must have been in a hurry to arrive. Then the approach to Nairobi through high class residential suburbs along the Limuru road giving us a good impression of the city. First to the post office to collect a large pile of letters. Here, in the centre of Nairobi, we had driven 10,118 miles from Southampton.

But the centre of Nairobi was not the practical objective of our journey. We were looking forward to the welcome we had been promised by Bo's cousin, Pamela Bell. Bo telephoned for directions and ordered lunch for an extra six !

We found the house ten miles out along the Langata road near the village of Karen; we found the welcome we had been waiting for from Pamela and Andy; we found it a most pleasantly rural spot.

We had arrived.

We had lunch there.

But not only lunch. Also an invitation to camp in their tree shaded paddock where a gang of servants helped to erect a huge safari tent for us to live in. We were introduced to the two Jerseys (for milk), the rabbits (for food), the horse (retired) and the six dogs (various). The house and its 16 acres belong to Brooke Bond tea, for whom Andy is supplies manager. Afternoon tea on the terrace, hot baths in a real bathroom, large gas lamps in the tent, and a spring bed for me all added to the dignity of our camping life

March 29.

Now what ?

Decisions: Vehicle condition. Next direction. North, south ? Game park visits. Our own condition. Thoughts of home. When, and how, to move.

For three weeks we made the most of our favourable position here get to know Nairobi, enjoy our amenities and make all these decisions.

The Karen club was a great asset. The Bells' membership was extended to us for the purpose of using the swimming pool, a great enjoyment for us. On the first Sunday, April 1st, we went to the very English Karen church where we found it to be Mother's Day and the children were given flowers for mothers. For us it was also a thanksgiving for our safe arrival here.

Many visits to Nairobi included the national museum to study possible origins of ourselves in Kenya's extensive discoveries of Australopithecine bones, only to be confronted at the end by the New Skull. This, found only the year before near Lake Rudolf, is not only very much older than Australopithecus (2.6 million years), but also has the enlarged brain that could be the missing link in our development. So all is once more in confusion, even for Dr. Leakey himself, the chief Australopithecine, as it were, and the director of this museum and of Kenya's research activities. 'New Skull' is too new even to have a name yet. We were impressed by the museum's well laid out presentation and information, and pleasingly clean and spacious atmosphere; Peter showed great interest in everything, and Jennifer and Timothy enjoyed playing pulling and pushing games on the uncrowded highly polished marble floors.

Other Nairobi attractions were the Snake Park, an outdoor 'live garden' more enjoyable for the children than the museum, the Kenya coffee house for the best cut price coffee in their 'tasting room', and an excellent local restaurant for stews and chapatis where knives and forks can be provided for the few customers (like us) who find it easier than using one's hands. In contrast to this, Marion and I had an English afternoon tea at the (still colonial style) Norfolk Hotel, where we were invited by the sister of Marion's Aunt Mary who is secretary to the bishop of Nairobi; an interesting insight into quite a different aspect of Kenya life from our own. The cathedral itself might well have come from any English city.

We had a very interesting visit to the animal orphanage, an attachment to the Nairobi national park, a sort of small Whipsnade where we could see jackal, lion and cub, a leopard leaping down from a tree, cheetah, zebra, banded mongoose, warthog, pygmy hippo with four day old calf, otters, African buffalo, serval cats, and antelope of many varieties: eland, hartebeeste, bushbuck, duiker, and the little dik-dik. These, the smallest of antelopes, are specially attractive, only one foot tall, with large eyes and ever twitching noses. Birds included crowned crane, cordon bleu and white eye vultures, and marabou stork. How many of the animals were orphans is doubtful, but the serval cats had been found when two days old.

We were taken on a walk to the Bells' house by the 'river' (a rather little stream) where we picked watercress in the company of three wet dogs. 20ft high papyrus was growing there, beds of nasturtiums, elder bushes and arum lilies among other lush vegetation.

April 17 marked the very obvious start of the wet season. Diary writing in the evening inside our big tent with rain pouring outside. Heavy and persistent. Midnight, and a slight lull enabled us to take stock of the situation. Lowering my hand from the bed found water covering the floor. Rising pools outside had overflowed inside despite having raised the edges of the groundsheet beforehand. Some rearranging, some sweeping, some extra raising of edges eased things a bit. Bo was doing the same in her tent. Back to bed again under the heavy drumming on the roof for the rest of the night. By morning the rain had stopped, but the store tent had been sitting in a pool at least an inch deep, leaving a soggy mess of bags of clothes, two suitcases packed ready for departure, a box of books and Marion's wellingtons holding the water well. There had been five inches of rain, we heard later. A day of drying out followed, and 24 hours without more rain. Next morning a beautiful African fireball lily had sprung up nearby, all on its own, a 3 inch globe of red stamens on a leafless six inch stalk, to celebrate the longed-for rain. That night, bullfrogs were heard happily chortling in a bullrush pool and we were visited by brown beetles with fan-like antennae called click beetles or skipjacks. Long winged flying ants also came, shedding their wings when they stuck to our wet table and then having to walk away.

Our chief concerns -- our ailing vehicle, and onward travel, were always with us.

The AA gave useful information on possible ways forward, north into Ethiopia and the Middle East, but vehicle repairs, both mechanical and electrical, proved lengthy, awkward and annoying to arrange. Enquiries about selling up were more encouraging. This would determine the end of the expedition, but nevertheless this was what eventually happened. After arranging appointments with Mr. Quam, chief inspector of customs, and other officials, and agreeing on only 50 pounds sterling duty to be paid, our 'Explorer' finally suffered the indignity of being taken to an auction and bought for 160 pounds by an English organiser of hunting safaris who already used Dodge trucks. So it was nice to know that it still had some use for someone. Better than destroying by burning or artillery fire, though that might have been more fun. I suppose we were really a bit relieved, and were by now thinking thoughts of home.

But certainly not before seeing a lot more of the celebrated Kenya wild animal scene. Plans were therefore laid for hiring a (reliable !) vehicle and setting off again on our own to see what we could see. But more work first. Booking of charter flight tickets for flying home ("Surely we can't fly home in 24 hours. We've taken six months to get here," remarked a puzzled Jennifer. But we could). This did involve considerable delay in getting money transferred from home -- Bo had to send a telex message to Shrivenham in the end -- and 'Sunshine Holidays' were able to provide us with a safari vehicle for our final sunshine holiday. So on April 20 (Good Friday) we collected an eight seater Volkswagen microbus, and had a practice run out to visit more rather distant relations and another English afternoon tea. These were the Beakbanes; Alan Beakbane, a cousin of my mother, is a retired Brooke Bond manager living in a tea plantation at Limuru. An interesting afternoon and super tea; it's not often we get home made scones, home made jam, home made cakes AND home grown tea ! News of all Colborne relations was much in demand, as well as news of our own wanderings since leaving home. We came away with rhubarb, cabbage and chow chows (marrow). They have only one servant and do their own gardening. Nairobi all lit up at night on our way back was a fascinating unusual sight for us all.

April 21.

Safari Day.

As we started out on the Mombassa road, crowds were out to watch ! But no, they were not out to cheer us on our way; they were more interested in the E. African Safari Rally, a popular annual event, due to pass in the other direction, and several cars did roar past us with headlights blazing.

But we got through, and were soon on the Arusha road in flat, open country. Good to be on the road again. First stop: to photograph two ostriches passing by. After Kajiado the country became more hilly and covered with thorn trees and large termite mounds. We had lunch beside one and had fun playing with it and Jennifer got bitten. Even before reaching the Amboseli Reserve boundary we were stopped by giraffe crossing the road, and soon we were paying our 20/- each + 10/- for the car, and were allowed in.

It was now 45 miles to the lodge and camp site, a murram road with more and more animals to see the farther we drove. Most of the reserve is still inhabited by Masai who live their traditional cattle grazing life, but restricted in numbers so as to preserve wild life as well. We saw wildebeest, zebra, Thompson's and Grant's gazelle in mixed herds, three young warthog trotting across the road, impala, gerenuk, side striped jackal, and one giraffe characteristically browsing on the tops of the little acacia thorn trees. Our sliding roof and hired telephoto camera were much appreciated. The centre of the reserve is a cattle free sanctuary and here we saw a greater concentration of game with elephant flapping their ears over the tops of the bushes, and olive baboons completely disregarding our intrusion. And all this with a background of Kilima Njaro ("Shining Hill") rising nearly 20,000 feet in the far distance to its cloud cap concealing the snow. Rain clouds in a blue sky gave a spectacle of distant storms and rainbows from our sunny vantage points.

Near the lodge of rondavel huts, but out of sight of it, we found the official camp site. Unfenced and uncontrolled, with no so-called 'amenities', it suits us very well. We pitched camp all alone in a palm glade at the edge of woodland with a herd of zebra a few hundred yards away on the plain, and vervet monkeys in the trees. And birds; buff crested bustard, yellow necked spur fowl, lappet vulture, red billed hornbill, helmeted guinea fowl and many superb starlings. As we started supper a fine-tusked elephant watched from the bush a mere 200 yards away. As Peter puts it, "at tea time an elephant watched us. We had rhubarb." We did not invite him nearer, but now as I write this there are crashings of boughs as heavy feet tramp through the trees just behind the tents. We may have a nocturnal visitor...

In fact we did have many. A herd of wildebeeste and zebra spent most of the night about 30 yards from our tents, close enough to hear them grazing while we dozed.

April 22. EASTER DAY.

Before breakfast, a rhino hunt: as we got up we noticed three rhinos passing by just asking to be photographed, so most of us chased after them in the van as they plodded off across the plain as an orange sun rose in a narrow gap between horizon and cloud. By the time we returned Marion had prepared the eggs for breakfast.

After breakfast, an Easter Egg hunt amongst the bushes and branches and dead tree trunks lying around.

A morning 'cruise' across the plain. Giraffe a specially attractive feature, individuals and family groups, beautiful, graceful, and friendly enough to allow a close approach, except for one mother with two suckling young who advanced to keep us out of the family circle, leaving the calves under father's protection. We came across one huge single elephant as we rounded a thorn bush giving himself a dust bath; he waited to allow several photos. Vervet monkeys entertained with tree climbing. We had lunch in the bush near the camp site with Easter chocolates, surrounded by palm clumps and green grass and watched little black and white weaver birds, mousebirds, and a vulture on its high nest. It was another hot day after early cloud. 29C. In the afternoon we found large numbers of elephant, some, wallowing in marshy water and eating reeds, were particularly photogenic, but we failed to find lion. We visited the observation post on Observation Hill and observed the herds of elephant, zebra and wildebeeste on the plains all round us. A cinnamon breasted bee eater was there, and elsewhere we saw a lilac breasted roller and a drongo. A huge flock of swallows flew over at supper time and disappeared among the trees. We passed one Masai with his cattle but no other human life all day.

In the evening, after a rain shower, the sky cleared again, and even Kilimanjaro's snow covered summit appeared in all its glory. A fine spectacle to end a day of fine spectacles. A happy Easter.

But cries from the children's tent woke us in the night. They had been invaded by vicious driver ants driving in a column through the tent. We evacuated them (the children), picked off the biting ants, and put them (not the ants) to sleep in the van.

April 23.

As we got up, we were once again under observation; a giraffe was silhouetted against the grey sky above the bushes.

Away from Amboseli, leaving by the Leme Boti gate. We missed our intended road into Tsavo Park, did an unnecessary 30 miles, and rejoined the main road to Kilaguni. After lunch by a water hole, it was invaded by a herd of thin cattle and their Masai herdsmen and boys. The Masai always carry a stick and a spear and wear a loose reddish coloured cloth draped over their shoulders which covers, more or less, their otherwise naked bodies. Their hair is braided and coloured reddish brown. They are adorned with earrings and lumps of wood through their ears, necklaces and bracelets all made of brightly coloured beads. They object to photographs, even of the cattle. Their staple diet is cattle blood and milk. The great holes in their ear lobes must be specially prepared early in life; the Kikuyu also have these, which give a grotesque appearance when earrings are not worn, as is the case of most of those one meets in Nairobi.

On into Tsavo West national park. No sooner had we entered than we encountered herds of hartebeeste and impala in a pleasant area of scattered green hills, green grass valleys and a background of the higher Chyulu Hills. As we suddenly entered more bushy country we surprised an elephant at a water hole; he lumbered off past a notice which read 'Beware of elephants. They have right of way', and turned and snorted at us as we stopped to give him this right. We then crossed the Shetani lava flow, a black 'river' several hundred yards wide that could be seen 'flowing' down from the volcanic cone of Shetani Hill a few miles away. Most of these hills are lava cones and the Chyulu range possibly the youngest in the world, barely a thousand years old.

Several miles within the park we came to the Chyulu gate and paid to enter and to camp. We made first for the Mzima Springs, one of the specially created tourist attractions and well worth a visit. The Tsavo River rises from under black boulders and forms clear shallow pools connected by rapids. Here hippo, crocodile and several types of fish live happily together. Platforms have been made for easy viewing. Hippos lay within range of a telephoto lens and I recorded a good yawn or two. An underwater viewing tank enabled common barbels (mostly) to swim around continuously, staring out at the human curiosities staring in. A crocodile swam towards us and surfaced; just above water level, openings made water level photos possible. We had been impressed since entering the park by the beautiful aroma of an unidentified herb from a bush with little balls of composite white flowers looking like old man's beard from a distance.

Another hot afternoon ended with very heavy rain on our way back to the camp site just outside the Chyulu gate. As we splashed over the steaming road we passed crestfallen-looking herds of very damp impala.

Rain stopped in time for supper. The small camp site is in an area of bush and black lava boulders, still with the sweet 'old man's beard' aroma. Tsavo seems to have more green grass and green trees than Amboseli.

April 24.

Continuing through Tsavo.

First to Kilaguni Lodge to buy petrol but no bread. We inspected some of the luxury facilities, such as the terrace overlooking water holes floodlit at night, and the dining room where one can pay 11/- for breakfast and 26/- for dinner. At 9am marabou storks were the only drinkers and a few late breakfasters the only eaters. Then to Roaring Rocks passing several lone elephants, hartebeeste and impala.. From here we looked down into Rhino Valley to see one very distant rhino, and a Battler's eagle, a red breasted sunbird, a very nice snapdragon and a beautiful hibiscus. On through elephant country to the Ngulia Hills and Ngulia Lodge, where we were not allowed to have a picnic (lunch 16/-) and were not tempted into the little swimming pool (5/-), but carried on down a winding road to the Tsavo river. A good choice. We found a pleasant beach with a shady thorn tree to protect us from the now overpowering sun on this hottest day since Zaire (34C). The 20 foot wide river flows between green grassy banks through the drier bush on either side. The riverside road is one of the less main roads and we slowly followed the river through the afternoon with many stops to enjoy the changing scene. Impala perhaps the chief feature; many herds with young who allowed us to stop close by without being alarmed. Waterbuck were numerous on the grassy banks. Baboons and vervet monkeys in family groups played in trees and among rocks. A family of warthog trooped across the road; always in too much of a hurry for photographs, these entertainers trot in line ahead across the front of the stage to distract one's attention from the rest of the scene. One giraffe strode through the water to avoid us when interrupted in drinking. We saw grey-fronted kingfishers again, Verreau's eagle and more lilac-breasted rollers.

We camped at the Tsavo River camp site near the Tsavo Gate. Once again a small site with no other tents, and being right on the river bank and unfenced, this was a good spot to be with only animals for company, seen and unseen. After dark my writing was interrupted by a snorting and a splashing of heavy feet wading in the water. A buffalo we suspected, but no concrete evidence.

Great numbers of twinkling fireflies do not provide much useful light, nor did distant lightning flashing intermittently to the north. Confusing flashes close to my eyes proved to be a firefly settled on the frame of my glasses. But no rain that night. Storm clouds were blown back by the warm wind and the stars shone brilliantly, with the southern cross high in the south.

April 25.

The day started with an early morning expedition in a brilliant sunrise, finding a good herd of buffalo, a lot more waterbuck, baboons, and hyrax which seemed much larger than the rock hyrax we had met earlier.

Bo made chapatis for breakfast (no bread), and Marion concocted a rice and vegetable mixture to keep for lunch. At 8.30, and very hot again, we were off by a circuitous route to the northernmost gate at Mtito Andei. Back to the Ngulia Hills, the Kalanga Valley and then across plains. Three African hunting dogs lying beside the road barely moved as we stopped alongside, and impala close by quite impassive. Lesser kudu, seen for the first time made an instant getaway into thick bush. Baboons were devouring baobab fruit in a large tree and throwing out their refuse. Many baobab trees have the bark torn off by elephants to a height of ten feet and sometimes the centre of the bark eaten away. They also push over many small trees causing woodland to revert to grassland.

We left Tsavo park at 2pm and were soon speeding along the main Mombassa-Nairobi road, and had covered 80 miles of tarmac before stopping to camp. One stop was by the railway to admire and photograph one of the huge 4-8-2+2-8-4 Beyer-Garatt locomotives hauling a lengthy goods train winding its way up from the coast. Very likely the last we will ever see of this once ubiquitous dying breed. At another stop we bought a large pawpaw for tea.

We camped beside a track well off the road, traffic-free except for a lone cyclist who paused to wonder at a game of 'grandmother's footsteps'.

April 26.

Nairobi National Park.

We arrived at the Cheetah Gate at 9.30 on a grey morning and drove the length of the park from east to west. We were first impressed by the numbers and great variety of animals met in quick succession. This is a smaller park with a more concentrated selection of game. We soon saw hartebeeste, wildebeeste, ostrich, impala, waterbuck and Grant's gazelle on our way to the Hippo Pools, where we were allowed to get out and walk. After a few yards on the flat rocks beside the river, Bo suddenly shouted to me, "You've just passed a crocodile." Sure enough, Jennifer, Timothy and I had walked unaware within a few feet of a young croc lying on the rocks. I had been carefully scanning the water ahead for hippo among the reeds. Jennifer immediately turned and dashed back towards Mummy for safety, passing even closer to the enemy on her way ! My first reaction was to shoot with my camera, but too swiftly it calmly slid into the muddy water and was lost to view. We saw no hippos. The next point of interest and anticipation was Lion Dip, a steep sided little valley reputed to be the best haunt of these elusive beasts. After much search with binoculars, it was Peter who did spot one; a lone lioness strolling about on the far side of the valley, and finally sitting down to have a good view of us from about 200 yards away. So we had now completed our tally of the 'big five' -- elephant, rhino, buffalo, giraffe and lion.

We felt rather hampered by the park rule not to use roof hatches, but luckily it was a cooler day, and we did not always apply the rule too strictly.

For our lunch stop we found a picnic site above the Mokoyeti Gorge and sat on the cliff top looking down on to the bush below where three rivers meet. Giraffe, impala and waterbuck were grazing, and our first sight of bushbuck Over-friendly rock hyrax insisted on joining us for lunch, but all they got to eat was our banana skins; very useful. Another new wild antelope today was eland, in large herds. We then made a circuit of the forest area, with enjoyable tracks winding through the trees and valleys, and many more antelope and warthogs. Finally, near the main gate, we stopped to admire the baboon antics. Swinging from tree to tree to ground and back again, and one family group with very small baby being fed and carried upside down by mother. One large male sat in the road immediately in front of us and condescended to move only as we edged gradually closer and closer. But we were allowed out in the end.

So back to Karen again, to our camp site in the Bells' paddock and the end of a memorable Easter holiday. We had done 1053 kilometres by microbus.

Thoughts on five days in three safari parks:

Giraffe are awarded first prize for elegance, elephant for impressiveness, impala for attractiveness, warthog for entertainment and monkeys for anthropomorphism. These parks are a superb way of seeing all these at close range, but after a few visits I would feel obliged to get out and walk to see the country properly. In Tsavo alone there are any number of hills demanding to be walked over. But then, I suppose, the animals would disappear -- unless I did first !

April 27.

Aftermath.

Marion and I into Nairobi to return the van and attend to final money transactions and buy a few carvings of some of our favourite animals to take home for presents. We had lunch in our favourite native restaurant again; large dishes of mutton, beef and potatoes, huge hot chapatis followed by chai and cakes. A feast fit for a wedding ? Perhaps, but ten years ago today our thoughts were far away from dining in the back streets of Nairobi. We were in Llanelltyd church, getting married.

Back by bus for last night of seven months' camping.

April 28.

Packing, weighing, repacking, and giving away much of our equipment to the Bells and to all the servants. We were given a super farewell high tea, and a lift with Andy to the airport.

But a bad night followed.

April 29, Sunday.

Now writing this somewhere high over the Sudan desert at 6.30am, having just had supper at sunrise. Presumably supper; it was the snack we were supposed to have had after taking off at 11.30pm. But take off was not till 5.30am. No explanation for this, so our night in the airport was not a happy or restful one. But the children were wonderful. Kept interested with games and visits to the viewing platform till 3.30am, Timothy then slept soundly through all the boarding operations, Jennifer not until after 'supper', and finally Peter at 8am.

It was not until approaching Cairo that we heard that we were not going to Heathrow after all, but only as far as Ostend, and thence by some sort of air ferry to Southend. This is what one gets for charter flights at rock bottom prices. We were on a Belgian airline DC9, so at Ostend it would have got conveniently home and could go no farther. The Nairobi office must have known this, but chose not to tell us. Two hours at Cairo, glimpses of more desert, blue Mediterranean, a corner of Crete, a bit of Alpine snow, and Ostend at 4.30pm (now 2.30 in Europe). The great reviving event here was free steak and chips all round.

England at last at 6.30. Coach to Euston, minicab to Kensal Rise (10.30), with a welcome by Chris and Nick and plenty of beds and floors for a sleep-filled night for all six of us.

30 hours from Karen.

But now we had no home of our own to go back to. We oscillated between Monmouth and Bournemouth. Peter and Jennifer had a term at school in Poole, and Timothy surprised us and confused doctors by succumbing to malaria, eventually diagnosed in Poole hospital. (His '4 year old' daily paludrine dose had been insufficient for his 4 1/2 years.) He soon recovered.

Much house hunting for Marion and me. It was four months later that we finally arrived for our agricultural future at Llwynffynnon Uchaf on the day before Timothy's fifth birthday.

As we drove into the farmyard, "How long are we staying here?" he asked, still a little unsure of our plans. We had no answer to this.

Now, 33 years later, in 2006, we still have no answer.

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