When I checked into the hotel they asked, seemingly as a matter of routine, when my next flight was. That’s what happens when you stay at the airport hotel – they assume you are going somewhere else (because no matter how nice it may be, there’s usually not any other good reason to stay at a hotel located in an industrial park near the airport).
They were almost right. My driver picks me up tomorrow.
My flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi was flawless, with a routing that took us from Amsterdam, south over Croatia and Greece, and across the Mediterranean. We were over Egypt just long enough to reach the Red Sea, which we then followed southward, avoiding the mess in Sudan.
As we flew, the sun set well to the West.
We arrived in Nairobi almost 20 minutes late, but the hotel shuttle picked me up so the transition was easy. As he drove along, the driver, Dominick, resolved to teach me some Swahili. “Karibu.” he instructed, meant “welcome,” “asante” is “thank you,” and “jambo” means “hello.”
He reassured me that these three words would be enough as we pulled up to the hotel.
I thanked him (asante) for his welcome and in due time found my room and my bed.
It has taken about 21 hours to get here. With some rest I’ll be ready to go tomorrow.
butterblogger 