Once again, it was that time when I felt like Ishmael-going into the streets and knocking people’s hats off (if you haven’t read Moby Dick, this sounds like a load of gibberish).
In other words, misanthropic tendencies kicked in. I desperately needed some time out, out of the visual and audio noise of Nairobi.
A while back, when I needed to be alone, I retreated to my old man’s farm on the slopes of Cherangany hills near Eldoret town. Therein, at the far South-East corner, I had my own happy valley where I spent long hours in meditation or birding.
However, now that I am married and fully settled in Nairobi, this option was not readily available to me.
A quite place out of town was the best cure for this dark malady that is misanthropy.
Karura Forest was the place. Wednesday was the day.
A small talk with my boss earned me the week off. A few vitals were packed.
- Camera
- Binoculars
- Bird field guide
- Pencil
- Milk
- Digestives
- Water
It was a day well spent. Birds, butterflies and trails offered some much needed tranquillity. Oh, and Mr Pickwick was there too. Quite an amiable company he was too. Come evening and I left Karura in the most sanguine of spirits.
Now I can face the world again.
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