salt and soda

you hear more about the maasai and the flamingoes than the salt lake. after all, it's not like you can swim in there (or can you?)

the road to magadi is a straight 120km from nairobi, descending into the rift valley. MK is so excited he sticks his head out the window like a dog, lol. and by day's end, only his left arm is thoroughly sunburnt.

he says he wants to cry. that he's never seen such beautiful nature. that he comes from a place without horizons. a place where clouds don't come as close.

i think at that moment that he is beautiful and i envy him for appreciating nature as much as he does.

there's a railway line that ends at the salt plant and i'd like to come by it the next time i go. so if you know where it starts from, do tell me.

at the gate, you register and pay 200/-. they don't give us a receipt and we in ignorance dont't ask for one. the rest of the journey however is plagued by the lack of one.

the plague comes in the form of maasai men-cum-wardens who refuse to let us pass without a receipt.

after much discussion (discussion enough for MK to climb up and down a steep hill and for me to take pictures) we take one with us, the one conspicuously carrying his faithful receipt book and continue the discussion in the car.

he directs us to take the road available during the rainy season. says our toyota can hack it as another car of the same size went just a few days ago and was able to pass.

MK is amazed that we use this street racing car (in japan) for safaris in kenya.



we pass a few wildebeest and zebra on the way. MK scares them off by running at them. he wants to try everything, to tame the zebras even. but everything doesn't want to be tried by him.

the hot springs aren't shaded (don't know why i expected them to be). they're out in the open for all the (few) flamingoes to see.

i tiptoe into it as the water burns and the rock is slippery. my feet redden and the thought of immersing myself doesn't seem possible. but MK runs to it and within moments he's wincing as the springs turn his skin red.

there's a log across the deeper area and i slowly make my way to it, hoping to balance on it as i dip myself in.

-----------------------F-O-R-T-Y DEGREES.

i finally immerse myself. it takes fooling myself that the waters really aren't hot. or that i shouldn't panic even if they are.

i stay in them long enough to 'test' their 'healing powers', long enough to justify the 3 hours on the road it took to get there. and 3 hours it'll take to get back.

but it is our skins in the end that tell us when to leave. and as we make our way back to the car we are bombarded by the maasai women who had been waiting to sell their wares.

we buy (or rather, MK buys) one necklace, one bracelete, one gourd and one cow horn for 1000/-. one woman appears discontent with her share of the deal because she chases the car, yelling at MK through the window, thrusting her arm inside to grab at the gourd. MK rolls his window up and she stands away as the car turns and drives away.

our maasai warden eventually agrees to let go of the receipt issue as we exit the barrier. he even recommends a nyama choma joint. perhaps he just wanted lunch or a ride.

but the place he directs us to has nothing ready so we decide to head home and to wait until ongata rongai for dinner.