67 Journey North, Kenya

From Sambura, we headed North, into real adventure. The road started off really good with stunning scenery all around. But after a couple of hours, we turned off the main road towards a place called South Horr. Paul had never driven this way before, so it was unchartered waters for all of us. Things seemed fine at first, but then road works appeared, with piles of earth in the middle of the road. Then bridges had been destroyed by flash floods, and we were forced to take difficult, sandy tracks around. Then at one point we had to cross a huge dry riverbed. It was all sand, and Paul muttered that it was only a matter of time before we got stuck. We stood outside while he let down the air in the tires to a pressure more suited to sand. While waiting a motorcycle appeared in the distance, slowly coming towards us. Two people were on the bike; one in army camouflage and the other holding an ancient AK47. The uniformed guy then asked us multiple questions, especially interested if we were Israeli. All a bit odd, but they eventually said farewell and made their way. At the same time, two four wheel drive jeeps arrived. No foreigners, but loaded with supplies, and obviously from some tour company. It was a strange meeting, and a strange place to meet. The jeeps, our tuck and the two on the motorcycle. Even odder when you realise we saw maybe just one other truck on the entire road that day.
But what made the whole drive through that desert landscape special were the tribal people that we passed by. They were almost all dressed in typical cultural attire. The boys out minding the livestock, the girls and women collecting water. It was wonderful to see and to acknowledge the fact that this wasn’t being put on for us, as tourists simply didn’t come this way, it was the way they dressed every day, staying true to their cultural values.
We also started to see numerous camels. Sometimes wandering alone in the desert, at other times obviously with local people in charge of them.
The villages themselves were so very basic, with small done-like structures. The roofs were made from anything that might hold out water; bits of plastic, old clothing, some tin. Water was obviously scarce and villages surrounded water sources. Then again, there were plenty of women walking long distances carrying containers of water. Some had figured out ways to roll them along by pulling the round containers.
As we neared lake Turgana, things changed again, vegetation became more and more sparse and evolved into a volcanic desert covered in lava fields. The number of dwellings was few in this hostile environment. The road turned quite rough, with corrugated ruts and lava stones. Poor Florence was really struggling at times and, while Paul was doing his best, we were traveling along at a painfully slow pace. The lake level had obviously risen somewhat and at two places the road actually went through the water. Paul was quite hesitant at the second crossing, but the detour turned out to be a no go, so he was left with no alternative than driving through the water. Fortunately three helpful locals turned up to walk us through and show us the best route.
By now the sun was setting and even though we were just ten km from our destination, it was decided to call it a day and find a bush camp. Traveling in the dark along such treacherous roads was a stupid idea, and we would probably take another hour to get there. Tents were set up and Nick produced a tasty peanut based noodle dish.
That night, however, was something else. The wind picked up to near gale force. I was lying in my tent watching the walls being blown all over the place. At one point I got up and went outside to find some large heavy rocks to use as tent pegs. I had placed the tent so that the back was facing the wind to alleviate as much of the force as possible. Inside the tent I placed more rocks around the walls. That did the trick, and while I only managed to snatch a few minutes of sleep here and there, my good old Kathmandu tent stood strong. Looking around the campsite the next morning, it looked like a disaster zone. Two of the larger Oasis tents were on their sides, while Monica’s tent was in the weirdest contortion.
It had been a truly memorable day and night, which will go down as legendary for sure. The road conditions, the local tribal people in their attire, the crazy weather, the changing scenery ending in a most incredible view over Lake Turgana.
And I didn’t even mention the fact that we also drove through Africa’s largest windfarm. I guess that should have been a warning for the atrocious weather.
#oasisoverland #kenya #laketurkana

Видео 67 Journey North, Kenya канала Paul Artus