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Lime green golf sensation

December 6, 2011

As we watched the monkeys swinging through the trees just after dawn from the comfort of our enormous private terrace at Alhamra on our last morning in Africa, it seemed hard to believe that within 24 hours we will be back in France having landed first in London. I will also miss what Nigel Rowley, our host, describes as “The Millwall Contingent”, a reference to the noisy ibis which are daily visitors, landing on our roof and making as much noise as a gaggle of Millwall Football Club supporters.

To date I have not managed to get a decent picture of either, so in its place I have a photo of the wonderful beach at Papa Remos, on the northern fringe of Watamu which we decided to give the swerve yesterday, simply because of the lack of shade and a little too much sun on earlier beach visits.

Phew, what a scorcher

We are promised a visit this morning to the Watamu Turtle Sanctuary, where they protect the giant turtles which use the local beaches to lay their eggs. Apparently one can adopt a turtle (for a small fee, naturally, just how small appears to be the subject of negotiation). Thereafter a flight to Nairobi from Malandi this afternoon, dinner at the Fairview Hotel, in the capital, renowned for its suchi apparently, then off to Jomo Kenyatta airport to secure our First Class (BA pilot friends permitting) seats for the trip back to Europe the continuance of my work for Currencies Direct.

Yesterday, despite a short-term reverse in the tuk tuk wars where I was just about to take an unassailable 3-0 lead before an appalling blunder by our driver, Terrance The Tuk Tuk who under pressure mistook right for left, I will still leave Africa having royally “Tuked” up the opposition. Whining and whingeing is to be expected but nothing will change the fact that a draw later on, when we shared a bigger version leaves us at three and half two and a half, so unassailable.

Yesterday I took delivery of my matching lime green shorts and trousers which I have had made for golf. I expect the members of the REGS (the Rivera Ex Pats Golf Society) with any taste will be salivating at the prospect, and I do hope that if I see my style guru Mr Humphreys (if he is free) then he will immediately notice that the green is almost the same shade of the lime green trim on my silver golf shoes. I also collected some brightly coloured slopping about trousers and some bright orange shorts, which that nice lady decorator who chose the colour suggested were a good match for my current colour, which due to te strength of the sun out here in Africa is just a little more orange than David Dickenson the perma-tanned TV personality.

In celebration of these purchases, it seemed only right to adjourn to lunch at our favourite beach restaurant Mapangoes on Watamu Beach for another excellent seafood linguine, and several bottles of a Grand Cru South African crisp and dry white wine called Bellingham of which I had not been previously aware, followed by the afternoon tea ritual I have come to love back at our far from humble abode Alhamra. The freshest giant king prawns cooked in front of us on a barbecue and a cream of vegetable soup finished the eating, but there was sufficient drinking (this being our last evening with our hosts before departing to Nairobi this morning) for the injudicious removal of clothing by certain parties and some skinny dipping and less than controlled behaviour by one of our party (as was his want when I first met him 25 years ago), but whose name I cannot reveal. However Nigel Rowley may well be feeling a little sheepish this morning.

Chris France

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