Conversations from the Road

There was a knock on my door.

“HELLO!” He bellowed enthusiastically at me.

“HELLO!” I bellowed back, matching his enthusiasm.

“MY NAME IS PAUL!” The widest smile I’d ever seen.

“MY NAME IS SIMEON!”

“GREAT!” He calmed slightly. “Where are you from?”

“South Africa,” I replied with a smile.

“Ah! Great! We love South Africans!”

“Great! I love Kenyans!” This man’s energy was infectious.

“Great!” A young girl poked her head out the cabin next door, giggling at the commotion. “I am in charge of this train,” Paul continued. “So I will see you later. Have a good journey!”

“Great!” I said. “Thanks!”

Two minutes later, there was another knock.

“HELLO!” Enthusiastic.

“HELLO!”

“MY NAME IS DOUGLAS!”

“MY NAME IS SIMEON!”

“GREAT! I HAVE YOUR BEDDING!”

“GREAT!”

This was going to be a good train journey.

Half an hour later, the train trundled out of Mombasa station just as darkness folded completely over the endless landscape. I was giddy with happiness: I had a second-class cabin with two sets of bunk beds all to myself, looking out of a smeared, dirty window with a lively family next door. After spending a good 10 minutes with my head out the window, tongue wagging, cold wind gleefully distorting my facial features before a combination of dust and bugs filled my mouth and blurred my eyes, I settled into my comfortable bunk bed with a cold beer, a book and a scribbling of notes.

The train journey to Nairobi, which runs three times a week on alternate days, with the return journey running on the days in between (http://www.kenyatrainbooking.com), was meant to last 13 hours.

In true African time, we arrived in Nairobi 25 hours after we set off from Mombasa. Numerous delays punctuated our lazy progress across Kenya, not that I minded: I ate my meals in a Victorian-era styled restaurant cabin; I played a quick game of two-touch football with some local boys and helped herd some scraggly goats during those particularly prolonged delays; I chatted to Jonathan, a police officer on board the train, and Precious, the small girl from next door; I kept an eye on the passing scenery: choppy undergrowth, inconsistent mountain ranges, wide savannah plains and the odd scattering of wild animals.

The train journey embodied what I loved best about my public transport trip through Africa: a time in which to observe and connect with people, with cultures and with nature, and plenty opportunity to reflect on my personal growth in that gloriously lonely cabin.