Kenya. Part 1: Getting There. 

I’ve revisited this trip neither literally nor down memory lane for some time. There are layers to my memories and feelings now, as there are whenever I look back but it was an amazing trip and I think it’s time.

Newly single in 2015 after my trip to Japan, I was lucky enough to be invited by friends to Germany and Toronto during the summer holidays from my work as a teacher. They were wonderful trips and a further step towards me accepting the help of others. I was still able to walk using two sticks or a walking frame, but needed to be pushed in a manual wheelchair to go any distance and my friends pushed willingly.

Back at work and entering the winter months my mind went where it always goes. Where next? I was still quite independent, able to carry out my day without any support, eventually employing my first PA to help me go swimming and for occasional outings at the weekend.

I knew I couldn’t travel completely independently so started looking at disabled holidays. I came across the website for 2by2 holidays and gave them a call. Eventually it was sorted – a trip to Kenya in the summer holidays combining a stay at Diani beach resort at the start and end of the holiday with a safari in Tsavo Park East in the middle.

I would have someone meet me at each airport, a few days’ support at the beach resort plus a driver for the safari part of the holiday.

Eventually the summer holidays came. I drove myself to the airport. At that time one of the airport parking companies offered free Meet and Greet for blue badge holders. I had managed to get a phone number for Special Assistance who came and met me at the car park, unloaded the car and put me in my wheelchair. I handed over the car keys and the adventure began.

I could write a whole blog (or rant) on Special Assistance at UK airports. Suffice to say they forgot about me at the SA waiting area, meaning I was last rather than first to board. I had to experience the whole plane watch me get to my seat, my legs stiffening up with anxiety.

However, the cabin crew were wonderful (as is usually the case). Once the meal service had started, I was brought a glass of champagne by way of apology for having been last on the plane. The guy sat next to me was both jealous and impressed. Once the food was over, I was brought another glass of champagne and told I was going to be moved to 1st class! This time I gave my neighbour the champagne and was taken to the joys of first class. I lay back, watched a movie and ate scones with jam and cream on real crockery and cutlery.

It was down to earth with a bump literally and figuratively on arrival in Nairobi, but I was ready for the adventure to begin.

Airport assistance was waiting for me, and as always (with Toronto being one notable exception; a farcical one for the Special Assistance rant) it was far better than in the UK. I was taken out towards the taxis and met with a driver with my name on a board.

I don’t feel I got to see a great deal of Nairobi. It was getting dark as we drove towards the hotel. My main memory is of the flashes as we went under each gantry, which the driver explained was our photo being taken for security. There must be a lot of photos of drivers and passengers in the Kenyan security system!

On arrival at the hotel, the taxi driver and staff got me into my wheelchair and delivered me and my belongings to my room. I had made it! So many welcoming smiles, kindness and willingness to help. I took none of it for granted and was extremely grateful. Apart from returning the smiles and many thank yous the best I could do was tips.

The next day I was collected from the hotel and taken to Wilson Airport for a wonderful light aircraft flight to the east coast of Kenya and my first view of the Indian Ocean.

I landed at Ukunda Airstrip, more the size of a bus station than an airport and was met by one of the staff from the holiday company.

The drive to the resort was my first real view of Kenya. Small homes amongst the palm trees, a vibrant market and areas of obvious poverty.

This was swiftly left behind as the gates closed on the resort. I was now most definitely a privileged white tourist. The Kenyan people working in the tourist industry are unfailingly kind, smiling, gracious and vibrant.

Esther from the holiday company who had met me at the airport helped get me settled in my room. She ensured all the furniture was in the best position to make the room as accessible as possible, helped me unpack and a shower chair placed in the bathroom for me.

Once she left, I was finally on holiday on my own. I was so happy. Looking back now, this was my last experience of ever truly having time to myself on holiday, when no one knew what I was up to and wasn’t aware of my presence.

I don’t even have that in my everyday life now and the memory of it is so precious.

I had arrived…

Kenya. Part 2: Diani beach.