Lamu is an old island Arabic trading town dating back to the 2nd century A.D. Only 37 miles from the Somali border, it is hardly an idyllic oasis. With a hair more than 20,000 people, over 6,000 donkeys and 2 vehicles, it does have its charms if you can look past the gazillion flies and mounds of donkey poop. You can walk from one end to the other casually in under 45 minutes.
You fly into the newly renovated Manda Airstrip and then take a short 10 minute boat to Lamu.
On arrival your hotel arranges for a boat to whisk you over to the island.
We were visiting at low season which was good because it was not crowded or exceedingly hot. Bad because most of the restaurants were closed and tourists meager. Sooooo, we got hit up by every boatman trying to make a few shillings in a slow period.
We stayed at Lamu House, situated right on the water with a splendid balcony to view all the happenings day and night. The is a renovation of two former houses by a spanish architect who captured the Swahili nuances perfectly, especially the windows that snatch the breeze from the ocean to ventilate each room.
This is a bedroom window, of which there were six on one wall, each with a unique view.
Even the breezeways provided gentle air flow while blocking the heat of the sun.
Most Swahili style homes are two or three stories with courtyards in the center having a pool or water feature. In the old days this water was stored to be used for cooking, washing or bathing. Our pool area was surrounded by a dining area for perfect al fresco dining and star gazing.
Even here, the architect made sure you could capture the view and breeze by positioning windows with interesting views along the sheltered wall.
The rooms were spacious, traditionally decorated and had awesome bathrooms. We had a double shower so powerful it actually blew off the head. Though I think it may have been a bit loose anyway. Solar panels on the roof provided constant hot water on demand. Every room had a view of interest and the balcony was our favorite perch in the late evening or early morning.
And the sights were quite tranquil. Boys walking home from school in late afternoon.
School girls pooling their change to buy a sweet treat on the way home. Some of the best I have ever tasted from street vendors: buttery shortbread cookies and drippy molten peanut brittle.
A fish monger heading home after selling her catch for the day.
Donkeys hard at work hauling sand for the new jetty or to make cement for a new home.
You could probably see the whole place in a couple of days--if you could find your way among the maze of alleys that meander from coast to sand dunes. Forget about signage. You eventually have to ask for help to find your way back and of course pay for the assistance too.
A typical alleyway with dukas on both sides of the sandy walkway.
This shop sells the wooden serving plates hanging on the wall. The moon and star are emblematic of Lamu. He collected broken plates and dishes and melded them into the doorway concrete.
Though many shops, restaurants and hotels were closed for May/June, there were enough open for us to find interesting beadwork necklaces, leather handbags and beaded wallhangings.
In this shop, everything was for sale, even the chairs and tables made by local craftsmen. We spent an eon here just looking at all the talented workmanship.
You could buy this beaded wall hanging or have them design one to your color palette.
Even the art on the walls had a price. This is a bit tortured for my taste.
Since I live in the mountains and exist on beef and goat, I was famished for fresh seafood. Even in low season, the options are endless. Fish still swim and jump on a hook, right? We tried a few lower end spots and had tasty barracuda, a new one for me. Then found a more upscale spot in the heart of the coastline with amazing fresh tuna on the salad nicoise.
But gimme some shellfish!!! This was the biggest scampi I know I have ever seen. And the lobster I know still had a pulse as it lay prone on the plate. I didn't bother with the taters though Dutchess said they were yummy with fresh parsley sprinkled on top.
One of the real charms of Lamu is a sail on a dhow. We negotiated for a day trip over to Manda. These boats are all crafted by the owners. And I mean crafted not in a good way. Our crew was bailing water before we even pushed off! Every available, usable piece of wood, nail, cloth, tin can or bucket is put to use on these vessels. They must spend hours each day just patching things so it will still sail.
So the crew carries us aboard as it is low tide. With our new Aussie friend Mark, we head out in the early morn to catch the wind around Lamu, view Shela on the other end of the island, and stop for a freshly prepared catch and swim off Manda Island before heading home in the afternoon.
A view of Lamu from our dhow. The water looks bluer than it really is, but it's a warm day, nice breeze and the water is the perfect temp for a swim.
Every dhow seems to have the Captain's mantra somewhere. Love this one. I definitely need a mind beast for a weapon, right?
The crew set about grilling our fresh perch, steamed rice, stewed veggies and tomato salad. We also had a whopping fruit plate of mangoes, oranges, and bananas under a palm hut while they cleaned up afterward.
Looks like a storm is coming, so we packed up and prepared to swim back out to the dhow and sail home.
Sailing into the setting sun with the wind at our back, the crew started singing a few local tunes to entertain us on the wind. And of course maybe earn a tip as well.
Back ashore we left the storm on the other side of the isle but the rainbow welcomed us home with the incoming tide to moor the boats in place for the evening.
I will remember walking below the fortress that was the main protectorate centuries ago and wondering what the view must be like from up in that tiny window.
And imagining the noise as hawkers sold their fruits and vegetable in the market square long ago. Now mainly deserted save for a few mamas selling fruit juice freshly mashed on the spot.
I will remember watching the dhows hoist their homemade sails to catch the wind for a tranquil sail. So quietly it happens that you don't even hear the snap of sail as it catches the breeze.
I already miss it. So we're headed back in November for their cultural festival around our thanksgiving time. We've already heard about the dhow races, donkey races and even goat races. Not looking forward to all the flies and dodging piles of poop on dark, sandy paths with my flashlight in tow. But no beach is perfect, right?
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