A Man Living a Boy's Dream

This is one of those moments in life that make all the shit that one puts up with in life worth it and allows me to say, “I love my life.” For those of you who know me, know that I grew up a malnourished and deprived child that was never allowed to leave my own house, let alone my country of residence; but trust me, this is possibly the most beautiful, serene, and peaceful places I have ever been, only to be challenged by the cliffs of Gozo (Malta) or the hills of the Collines (Benin).

The Setting. I currently find myself sitting with my feet up on the front veranda of my “tent” at the Siana Springs Camp Grounds on the edge of the Massai Mara National Park in late August. I use the word “tent” loosely because when someone mentions that word, the image of a lean-to in the middle of a clearing. No, not in Kenya. A “tent” is for intents and purposes a bungalow with a poured concrete floor, a zip up front door, two beds, a flushing toilet, hot water shower, and electric lamps (when the generator is on). The hot water is provided by a wood burning stove behind the “tent”. On top of the sleeping arrangements, the food…oh, the food. I just finished a lunch that started out with light and airy cream of onion soup with a garlic crouton floating in the middle. Then, had a rack of lamb, (as they say) infused with a scent of mint over white rice with a curry and potato sauce. Um….yeah it was tasty. Of course, I finished it off with my favorite beverage of choice, Pilsner Lager (I know that’s a contradiction but TIA).

The Drive. On the drive in one was struck by the barren beauty of the Southern Tip of the Rift Valley. I staring at the "Cradle of Life". I was expecting either a more barren landscape or a bountiful land built on organized farming, but I found a little mix of the two; spots were incredibly well maintained farms while others was the barren landscape I thought would be more widespread. Somehow in the middle of it I found the greatest contradiction of all, and I choose the word “contradiction” above juxtaposition because to have a large satellite relay station for satellite TV, radio and internet in the middle of the barren landscape of Africa is wrong, at least to me it is. This is a problem because there are two types of Africans (I generalize but you will understand in a second): those that want modernity and embrace the western life and those that fight, (and I mean fighting with guns and wars, see the Boer War or Zulu Wars to name two) in an effort to keep their traditional ways. This is also coming from a man that just drove across the landscape in a newish Toyota Prado wearing Ralph Lauren, sporting a nice designer watch and holding a digital camera. But walking hypocrisy is normal for a tourist of my nature.

Anyway, I digress, to the land I just covered. The Roads. Take a bad dirt road or an off-road track in the US and add craters the size of the hole a cannon ball would cause. Travelling at 100 KPH through these pot holes, the road ends and it is a thin corrugated, beige line in the middle of a beige country, dotted with low lying trees and wildlife. The wildlife…yes the wildlife is what the Masai Mara is known for. The issue with driving 100KPH is not the bone jarring bumps, it’s the inevitable chance of a four legged animal jumping out in front of your car. In my case, that was a giraffe. (By the way, Giraffes are possibly the most graceful creatures I’ve ever seen run). It scared me shitless at first and then it finally set in…I was staring at a giraffe, no make that TWO giraffes!!! I was so scared at first, I forgot to take out my camera until they were further away.

The Safari. This is truly one of those moments that cannot be explained. Imagine a little boy with a dream that he still dreams about today at 24. Now imagine trying to explain what he is feeling and seeing in words…it’s impossible. Really the only thing I can describe are the facts and show you the pictures. We drove around the park in search of lions. Everyone goes to the Mara under the auspices of looking at the Wildebeest Migration (if you don’t know what this is, watch the Grasslands episode of Planet Earth and try to get Attenborough’s, BBC version and not the knock off Sigourney Weaver version), but everyone is truly there to hunt the King, the Lion. On Day 1, I was left disappointed until on our way out of the park, we passed a mother lioness fast asleep. But this beast was so fascinating I sat there and stared at her, gracefully sleeping, as she gains the energy for the big hunt tomorrow.

That next day did come and all my dreams came true. What does 50 billion Wildebeest wandering the plains mean to the rest of the world? Easy pickings for lions and a very good chance to see them hunting for the tourist. And this is exactly what happened. Sorry for everyone else but I was selfish on this one and was too intrigued watching the lioness chase down the wildebeest that I completely forgot to take a picture of the hunt. But there are lots of pictures of the lions sitting around and being the badass they have always been.

I sign off this time, sitting comfortably back in my hotel in Nairobi sipping the delectable Pilsner and pondering the possibility of adding three or so days in Kampala at the end of this trip, again for business.

Carnivore Loose in Nariboi, Kenya

I am a man that believes that if you are a vegetarian you are either sick or stupid.

I begin like this, because I just came from any carnivore's heaven, appropriately called "Carnivore". I am normally not one to enjoy tourist trap's because I most likely have been there or done that, or it is just stupid but this is one that no man, and possibly woman (if you exist I want to marry you) should ever miss. Imagine a Fogo de Chao on crack with a dash of wild African game.

I'm going to now lead you through the full body experience of this place.

Imagine, as you enter this walk through a well manicured jungle, you hear the distinct sounds of forced, "local" beats softly in the background. Faintly, barely audible is the sound of the meat god's angels humming the sweet sounds of simmering over slabs of flesh, meat and bone. Immediately as you enter the restaurant, passed the post cards and t-shirts for sale on the walls, the skies open above and before you is the site of an open pit of fire and coals. That is not the greatest thing about this sight. Remember the angels' voices humming sweet melodies in your ears, that is the sound of the 40 assorted legs, spines, entire carcases hanging on spits in a circle around the fire.

In an attempt to fill you before the meat arrives, you are presented with a delicate split pea soup thing, bread, spicy samosas and potato wedges. Oh but I was not fooled. I reminded myself that this is a marathon, not a sprint. Enjoy every bite. Do not be afraid to take one bite of something and not finish it, because there is always more coming.

My first bite of meat told me that my ears and nose had not lied to me. The prime rib, fresh cut from a skewer melted in my mouth, as if eating butter. My second bite, chicken wings with a magical rub that was sweet and sour with a hint of the glorious smoke that it was just sitting over. The third an Ostrich meatball. This one slightly dissappointed me because it was grainy, fatty and over spiced. Ostrich meat is supposed to be this lean, delicately flavored red meat, but somehow they took it and made it taste like a fat lamb. The fourth was a lamb sausage that definitely did not include a single piece of meat, it was purely everything found within the animal, and I'm not talking about the muscle. But let me tell you...that poop shoot was mighty tasty!

But anyway, to the Camel. Take some shoe leather, make it stringy and rub it with salt and pepper; you may be getting close. To be closer, leave that meat out to cure in the hot sun for a week and still you won't be quite there. The closest thing I can think of is dog meat, except even dog meat had more flavor and was more easily chewable.

This meal went on and on, like a Merry Go Round of meat heaven, except I wasn't reaching for the gold ring on the edge, I was reaching for the strangest meat I could find. But my luck ran out...when they ran out of crocodile. With that news, I pouted my way home in my taxi alone. And here I sit, alone, with my beer (Pilsner, Ugandan, very light and very tasty) until I can no longer focus and need to sleep, battling jet lag like the champion meat eater I am.

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The only problem with this evening is that I enjoyed it alone. Africa is one of those places in the world that one must always have another to share the experience with. It is a continent full of surprises that always leave you speechless and that no words do the moment justice; pictures only scratch the photo; and videos, blue balls. But I will do my best.

And we begin....

I have been told numerous times that I should write about my adventures, interesting and not. For many reason, people find my life interesting and love hearing me tell them about it. I believe this is so because I always try to live as if I am worth that much more. I never understood why people read about other's life but no other story is better to tell except you own.

I eat well, I travel well, I live well.

By my 24th birthday, I had lived on 3 continents, traveled to the vast majority of Europe, to the Middle East, East Asia, Southeast Asia, and West Africa. By my 25th birthday, I will add East Africa and continue to travel and explore.

By my 24th birthday, I had tasted the foods from nearly every corner of the world and eaten at some of the best restaurants (commonly noted by those who actually know what they are talking about) in the world. By my 25th birthday, I will continue learning how to create these meals in my own kitchen.

Some people say I can long winded but thats me, so get used to it. I will try to include pictures as I go.

Life is good to me so I'm not going to change it.