Nairobi to Naivasha

12/11/11

Yesterday, the 11th, Carrie and I had breakfast at the hostel and then walked back to the Yaya Center.  There we purchased the water bottle (stainless steel) for our fuel canister.  The same guy was there from two days prior and so was a mzungu (white person) who seemed to own the place.  He recommended against us using it for fuel mainly because of the seal.  We told him we had a good seal with our pump.  He said there was another place in Langata that may or may not have fuel canisters.  We did not have the time or desire to try to track it down and instead bought the bottle.  We'll see.  In the center we also bought some padlocks, a converter for electrical outlets, and a lighter.  After a coffee and a Coke we walked back, called a taxi, and made our way to where we could catch a matatu to Naivasha.  The first driver said 700 Ksh after the woman at the hostel told us 500, 600 max. if traffic was bad.  We haggled him to 650 and we were off.  One block in he got a call, backed up, and said he was giving us to another taxi.  That driver took us down.  As we neared the area to catch a matatu he told Carrie to put her bag between her feet as there were many people around and he said bad people would snatch the bag if they could--even through a window.
We stepped out of the cab into total chaos, shouldered our huge packs, bought our tickets to Naivasha for 200 Ksh apiece, and then fought our way onto the full matatu where we sat with our packs pretty much on our laps and in front of us.  It was a bit uncomfortable but it felt good to be leaving Nairobi.  When we got off the matatu in Naivasha a nice guy, Tom, talked with us and asked where we were going.  He showed us where to buy our tickets, 80 apiece, and what matatu to catch.  We boarded the empty matatu, which was much easier and then Tom joined us, saying he was headed to the same area.  He sat by Carrie and explained things to her while I sat next to the speaker playing loud but soothing reggae as we picked up seemingly more people than the matatu could hold, dropping them off here and there along the way.  Then was our stop.
Tom, the weaver, exited with us and walked us to the main office where he had his weaving shop adjoining.  The place is beautiful.  At Fisherman's Camp there is a dock to the lake and many, spaced-out, yellow-barked acacia trees.  The ground is grassy and we went to the restaurant/bar first to unwind.  There we saw three black and white colobus monkeys in the trees.  We also met a nice couple, Jim and Fiji, staying in the upper camp in a banda.  When it was nearly dark we set out to set up our tent.  We were excited to camp.
After set up we headed back for dinner, which was delicious, but some of the patrons spoiled the mood.  We could overhear them talking loudly and drunkenly about taking advantage of local women and other crude things.  Carrie said they were too loud and we could hear them, but they continued on their course.  Eventually one came over very drunk and sat and talked with us but kept saying really offensive things.  We were eventually fed up and decided to leave.
We slept well through a good rain storm and woke up in the middle of the night.  Carrie was peaking out and said there was a hippo out there she had been hearing for a while.  As we were getting out to see it--it was on the other side of an electric fence to protect the camp--we heard it walk off in the water.  I never saw it and we eventually went back to bed listening to the frogs and every so often, the grunts and moans from a hippo or two.
Now we sit in the open-air restaurant having just finished breakfast.  We have decided to take today easy and do one of the many activities tomorrow.  Many people have come, probably because it is Saturday, but we expect tomorrow to be a bit more mellow in the parks, whichever one we go to.