I really enjoyed Amani Tiwi Beach Resort. It was incredibly friendly with a charismatic manager.
When I was ready to leave my room, I would call reception and someone would come and push me in the wheelchair down to the restaurant where the staff would take me around the buffet and help me sit at a table.
I could then enjoy people watching whilst eating my meal and thinking my thoughts. This seems like such an unbelievable luxury now!
After breakfast on the first day, I went back to my room and waited for Patrick to arrive. The holiday company had arranged for someone to accompany me during the day, primarily to achieve my main aim of hitting the beach.
As soon as he arrived, I knew I was in good hands. He was kind, gentle, confident and wanted to do everything he could to make sure I had the holiday I was hoping for.
Once he had helped me get myself organised it was off to the beach! We walked through the hotel grounds by the side of the pool and through the gardens then came to a steep winding paved path down to the beach. There is no way I could have managed it alone.
Halfway down was the paradise view I had been dreaming of. White sands, palm trees and the Indian ocean.
Soft sand and wheelchairs do not go well together, but Patrick was undeterred. He turned me round and dragged me down the beach until I was sitting in the sun listening to the sound of the waves. Just what I had dreamt of and absolute bliss.
It wasn’t a sea you could swim in. The shore had many rock pools with long waves further out. Patrick took me down to the shore as close to the sea as we could get and placed my feet in the water. He took the opportunity to splash me from head to toe as well!
The beach was very quiet. There was a father and son who I got to know at the hotel. The son would come and show me shells and sea life he had found.
There was a security guard who would parole the beach, people giving camel rides along the shore and the Masai selling their wares. (More on that later.)
Mostly I sat and relaxed, soaking up the sun, listening to the constant sound of the large waves and chatting occasionally with Patrick. He would also wander off and leave me to it if I asked him.
I spent two days at the start of the holiday and two days at the end on the beach. It was wonderful. I felt I had managed to get somewhere I had always wanted to be, accepting the help that I needed but feeling some independence and enjoying some much needed solitary time.
Mid afternoon at the hotel there was Kaffee und Kuchen. Patrick would take me back up the slope for coffee and cakes. We would relax and chat in the shade before heading down to the beach for another hour or so.
Patrick would then return me to my room, checking I had everything I need and leave me to it until the next day.
In the evening, I would once again call reception to be taken to the restaurant, around the buffet and to a table for dinner.
Every evening there would be a pre-bedtime entertainment for the children followed by further entertainment for the adults. This is one of the most memorable and bizarre moments of my life.
I had finished my meal and was (you may wish to read between the lines here or you may not) texting a FWB. That day the Masai had been given the lounge area of the hotel to sell their artwork and jewellery and were hanging around waiting to provide the evening entertainment. The Birdie Song then started playing for the kids.
So, between what was going on on my phone, the music playing and the people of the Masai standing around, it was bizarre, absurd, disconcerting and somewhat uncomfortable. The modern world gone crazy, with me in the middle of it.
And so to the Masai. Maybe an affluent hotel resort in Kenya is a good place for the Masai people to be. It saddened me to see them so out of context, but here I was in their country with my money, so why shouldn’t they benefit from that?
Watching their traditional song, music and dance on the tiled floors of the hotel bar was so unusual but I am privileged to have seen it. I would hope they make good money from performing and selling their arts and crafts on the beach and in the hotel.
I did have an opportunity for a short conversation with a guy on the beach because of Patrick’s presence. I bought some jewellery and of course took a photograph. He was very proud of his culture and I sit with my mixed emotions. I just don’t think the Birdie Song incident helped!
The hotel bar was next to the restaurant and the entertainment would take place in front of it. There were varying degrees of awfulness. The karaoke could have been really dreadful but a woman who knew all of the Disney songs hogged the microphone. She at least had an amazing voice so all was pretty much forgiven.
I would happily sit on my own drinking and people watching. The manager would make a fabulous drink whose name and ingredients I have forgotten – possibly rum, sugar syrup and lime and I know he brought me plenty without charging me!
I also met and chatted to some lovely people there. Again, on reflection, such good times of just doing my own thing without having to worry about anyone but myself. 
Once I was ready, a member of staff would take me back to my room and I could get myself to bed.
The staff seem to really enjoy pushing me around in the wheelchair! Whenever I called for someone to get me from my room I would hear footsteps running up the corridor and the door would be opened by someone grinning from ear to ear. I’m sure the tips had something to do with it, but that was fine by me!
I was sunbathing near the lounge area one day and a young gardener came up and offered to take me for a walk. We walked all around the grounds of the hotel which I wouldn’t have seen even if I were mobile. It was lovely.
It was a lovely place to arrive at and return to after my safari. Patrick and the hotel staff made it all possible but I also value so much the amount of time I was able to spend alone. I look back as if I were just a normal person. Yes, I was sitting in a wheelchair but people would say hello, stop and chat, or just leave me to it. Bliss.
After three nights in the hotel it was time to go on safari… 
Chaos in Slow Motion - Nina’s Life - More Than Meets the Eye 
2 thoughts on “Kenya. Part 2: Diani beach.”