The road to Africa sometimes goes through Dubai Airport
Vaguely imagined Kenya-Tanzania opened up to us from a completely new, sometimes unexpected side. Guidebooks strongly recommended taking full responsibility for your health – besides the banal call to bring Polaroid sunglasses and not neglecting insurance, they forbade picking anything up from the ground; advised avoiding animal bites; excluding tap water from the diet (even if it exists) and using only bottled water, after making sure it is sealed, or water disinfected with hydrochlopazone or micropur, or ordinary boiling; prescribed taking the ritual of malaria and yellow fever prevention especially seriously.
Vaccination in Moscow costs 250 rubles, while in Kiev, at the Central City Clinical Hospital, they don't even charge Russian citizens for health guarantees! Only now I saw for the first time the person with whom I was going 'to the ends of the earth.' I didn't even know who I was meeting at the station! Victor turned out to be a speleologist and a bit of a mountaineer, calm, balanced, and most importantly – an experienced and reliable person. There was very little time for getting acquainted – that same evening he was returning to Russia. The procedure for preparing for the vaccination and administering the serum lasted about 40 minutes. Having found out that we didn't choke after eating boiled eggs, we were issued international vaccination certificates in Ukrainian, English, and French. By the way, of the two of us, only I speak a foreign language, and that's French, while the official languages of Kenya and Tanzania are Swahili and English...
We entrusted the processing of visas and insurance to a travel agency in Moscow, so we successfully avoided visiting the consular department of the Kenyan embassy. While my documents were traveling across the Russian-Ukrainian border, the route and date of the expedition changed depending on the availability of tickets and departure days offered by foreign airline offices. The most convenient turned out to be our native Aeroflot, which operates a direct flight to the capital of Kenya, Nairobi, once a week with a stopover in Dubai.
So, tickets in hand, final route: Nairobi – Masai Mara Park – Kilimanjaro – Dar es Salaam – Zanzibar – Nairobi and two days in Cairo due to the lack of a direct flight to Moscow – a real reason to see the Egyptian pyramids! I packed my backpack one last time. Polyurethane foam mat, sleeping bag, down jacket, Panama hat, flashlight, glasses... 16 kilograms – the weight limit not exhausted. Vaccination certificate, money. Passports with Kenyan visas will be brought by the time the train arrives in Moscow. Did I forget anything? Time to go.
I traveled to Moscow with my internal passport. The night was sleepless: customs officers – both ours and Russian – rushed through like elusive avengers; they frankly didn't care about the presence of weapons or drugs, and I had to chase them for five carriages to declare a small amount (within Ukrainian law) for its unhindered further export from Russia. True, the customs officers were understanding and were in a great hurry to certify the form before the train departed.
Departure at 20:05 from Sheremetyevo-2. Armed with guidebooks, necessary equipment, sunscreen, and enthusiasm, we flew to a foreign country without knowing the language and with no idea what awaited us beyond the equator. Below us, clouds spread like the snows of Antarctica, air conditioners breathed invigorating cold. A few hours later, finally cooled down after a long night flight, we stepped onto the land of the United Arab Emirates. And at that very moment, hot steam, enveloping the whole body with velvety humidity, penetrates the lungs, filling them with suffocating, viscous, heavy air, saturated with the sweet-tart aroma of oriental incense: intoxicatingly spicy musk, warm coconut, smoky almond, misty sandalwood... resinous, exciting, oily...
We float with the crowd, looking around, reading numerous signs. The huge Dubai Airport teems with ethnic diversity and contrasts: it seems the five continents have united under its colossal arches, with palm tops reaching upward. And against the backdrop of all this glitter, gold, lights, luxury, you can see people sleeping right on the floor, under the palms, under coffee machines, already waiting for their flight for more than a day. An hour later, check-in began; we spent two hours in the transit zone, watching newly arriving passengers, guessing that this might be the last place we meet Europeans.
Boarding was announced for a Boeing 737 of Kenya Airways. The plane quickly gained altitude. No offense to old Aeroflot, but the service is certainly higher. Slim, tall, beautiful flight attendants in strict red suits, having provided passengers with blankets, pillows, and headphones with ten programs of various music, taught how to properly use oxygen masks and life jackets, bustled about, carried noble aperitifs to the business class cabin, and tried to feed everyone a late dinner or early breakfast.
At 6:20 local time, we landed safely in the capital of Kenya, Nairobi. Orienting ourselves by the signs, we went out into the main hall of the modest terminal, where they checked our visa, which could be obtained on the spot (about $30), and, oddly enough, the yellow fever vaccination certificate. During passport control, a man with a stern face questioned us for a long time; we pointed to some hotel from the guidebook; probably it turned out to be not cheap, because they gave us a meaningful look, but no more questions followed.
Where to now? Before we could get lost, we were surrounded by happy faces of greeters: 'Hi! Jambo! Taxi! How are you? Taxi! Taxi! Taxi!' And a lot of incomprehensible text, probably symbolizing prices... Fortunately, there was a girl who spoke French, who led us to the stand of the agency Kairi Tours & Safaris LTD, where we met a cheerful guy named Anthony (or Antonio), who besides English spoke Swahili and Kikuyu. Conversing through an interpreter for an hour, we reserved a hotel (for 2 nights at $25 per person), three days of safari in Masai Mara Park ($60 per person per day), and a taxi driver for $16, who waited for us for a long time, repeating: 'No problem! Akuna matata!' In general, here at the airport, they will develop an individual program for you, taking into account all your wishes: excursions, safaris – everything you are willing to pay for.
Read the continuation of the material: AKUNA MATATA: IN THE CAPITAL OF KENYA