I think about weird things on evenings like these. On this one I thought about a lake, a massive lake. At some point in history, Lake Nakuru and Lake Elmentaita were a single lake.
At Finch Hattons Luxury Camp in the Tsavo, a crocodile called Jemimah tries to kill Muthuri, Dan Kiptoo falls off a bed, and a thousand hills come alive.
You could smell the nyama choma long before you saw it. It was our first night in Tsavo, and the itinerary said we were heading out to a bush dinner. So down the stretch, past the rock-paved swimming pool, through a dark stretch to a grassy patch. Now wasn't the time for anyone to start recounting that old story of the man-eating lions of the Tsavo, and luckily, no one did.
There's a castle in Nyahururu that look likes it has been transplanted through time and place. It's a rather imposing reminder that a night on Electric Avenue is not a proper break, and neither is goat meat at Kamaki's.