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If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name

And we thought it for a while and we finally decided; if we were going to do a safari, we better do it in Kenya. More specifically, in the Masai Mara. And with that in mind there was no turning back; Kenya was a must.

We went on easy coach on an overnight bus. Twelve hours in a truck with African music buzzing in our ears since we left Jinja until we got to Nairobi and at an inappropriate volume for sleep. But still, I slept . The truck was the best line that runs that route but it had nothing special, it didn’t have restroom either. The seats make me appreciate the fact of measuring just over five feet, because the space between the legs and the seat, even thought it wasn’t inhuman, it was not entirely comfortable. We had three stops, the first one at the border. We wake up and we got to go down in a heavy sleep in the rain to fill out forms in the middle of a crowd of people wanting to have a stamped indicating they were going out the country. Then walk around waterlogged and muddy street under a light rain, cross the border and ask the Kenyan visa. To then proceed to walk a little more and search your bus that was camouflaged with twenty more buses. And finally, you’re in Kenya. Now wait for the stops in Kisumu and Nakuru, followed by Nairobi at nine o’clock. What I liked about those twelve hour bus ride was to meet a Ugandan who had traveled in Mexico and knew a little Spanish and the other was to see in the morning some zebras, monkeys and antelopes. The safari had begun even before we started it.

Now… the coming back to Jinja from Nairobi was totally different:

We decided to take a cheap bus, we saved ten dollars but instead suffered 90 % of the way. The seats were old and looked like they had never been washed. It got me scabies and lice only by looking at them . But that was not the worst part, as we bought them within an hour to departure we only got the back seats. And every little bump, stop or pebble in the road felt like a roller coaster (a bad roller coaster). So instead of sleeping we spent the night like idiots jumping and bouncing in our seats. I did not sleep. I just spent the night thinking nonsenses and hoping that at some point we could crash with something, that the “new” bus that looked 80′s style disarm or had a flat tire. After six hours without being able to lay my head in the stinking seat jiggling any of those options seemed ok for me. But none of this happened and after 12 hours of travel, after whip a little, pee for the umpteenth time in five days in “squat” style on the road, and crossing the border, we arrived in Jinja .


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Profile photo of Daniela Flores Eboli

My name is Daniela, I am from the southeast of Mexico. A place called Tabasco and -like the sauce- it is a hot place. I love growing up here but I also love to see different places. I lived for one year in South Korea for studies and while I was there I manage to visit other countries as fantastic as the one I am from and the one I was living at the moment. Now, I am back in Mexico trying my luck in the "job world" but every time I can I pack my bags and fly.



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