The Gede ruins, on the road from Malindi to Watamu, are considered the most impressive Swahili ruins in Kenya. Gede flourished from around the 13th to the 16th century, and then was abandoned, perhaps because of raids from Somalia, Portuguese bully-boy behaviour or vanishing water supplies. Or all three. At any rate, everyone left, leaving it a hollow shell full of nothing but shadow and memories.
A bit like my hotel.
Rather sadly, in the big scheme of things the Swahili didn't make a good ruin. Whereas the Hindus and Buddhists of South East Asia worked with huge, ornately carven blocks of stone - almost if they designing it to be dug up and marvelled at a millennium hence, Gede, on the other hand, has beauty only in practical details: see here the echo chamber used for the call to prayer in pre-megaphone days, or there the cunning arrangement to get water from the well to the Sultan's bathroom. But as a spectacle, Gede entirely lacks majesty; enjoy those details instead.
I was interested - and subsequently a shade disappointed - to hear several mention of Sex Monkeys roaming the area. I wondered what shameless behaviour had led to such a monicker, before my guide, Alf, finally spelled out the Sex Monkeys' name.
What a let down. They did seem a bit frisky, though, so maybe noone had taught them how to spell.
Probably the most interesting ruin is a bit of the outer wall that has been overrun with Strangler Fig, giving it the classic jungle-temple look. If this had been Cambodia there would have been a big queue if tourists waiting to have their photo taken in front of it. As it was there was me and a few Sex Monkeys.
After a lunch stop in Watamu, where I witnessed the fascinating "Hot Twins Shop" (I declined to buy any due to baggage restrictions) I tuk-tuked my way to Arabuko Soloke Forest Reserve. It's only $15 to get in, apparently as a lure to pesky stay-away foreign tourists, but this thrifty offer is slightly off-set by the fact the the guided tours they offer are $20. Given that a) the Forest Ranger is employed whether he shows me round the park or not, and b) he is unlikely to be getting paid $6.66 ph, I thought this was surprisingly high. Since all but one of my guiding experiences in Kenya have been largely disappointing, I politely declined, aware that I was possibly cutting off my twitchy proboscis to spite my face and jeopardising the main reason I had come: to see the famous Golden Rumped Elephant Shrew.
These funny little long-nosed, rabbit sized beasties are only found in Kenya, and 90% of the known population lives in Arabuko. They are shy and skitter about in the undergrowth; you can hear them constantly as you tread the path, your footsteps causing a panic-blighted explosion of slightly jumpy footsteps as they bound away, unseen.
I've been on a lot of forest walks in Asia, and have been privileged and lucky enough to see, out of a range of magnificent and charismatic jungle creatures, precisely bugger-all. My luck had already turned a little when on the path leading to the forest, where the sky was still blazingly open and the trees less dense, I saw a bush full of monkeys chittering and giving me suspicious stares.
But skittering in the leaves was all I was getting shrew-wise, and I had given up sporting my camera when a funny little shape came into view ahead, poking its nose about in the leaves. It drifted across the path, just briefly enough to preclude grabbing my camera, but lingering long enough for a decent look before it disappeared into the bushes. As I drew closer the usual explosion of tiny footsteps told me I had scared it, but this time it burst across the path right in front of me, flashing its yellow bum as it bounded back to its bushy base camp to my left. No amount of prying could then discern it, but I'd seen an elephant shrew, and despite sneaking through the electric fence with help of a trusty twig, clambering around trees fallen across paths, holding conversations with chatty monkeys and trying a couple of ill-judged short cuts, that was pretty much the highlight of the day, and maybe the week. If I'd taken a guide I probably would have had them jumping on my head or something, but I'm happy with my fleeting glimpse of yellow bummed cuteness. And that's not something I have call to say very often. 
No comments:
Post a Comment