Mombasa:
The metallic sound of rap crackles as if the radio station were broadcasting from the depths of the abyss, but no one bats an eye. I have to do contortions to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling, lined with red and black upholstery that reminds me of the eccentric taxi he drove Guillermo Montesinos in "Women on the verge of a nervous breakdown", the Oscar-winning film Almodovar. We got on a matatu to get to the Old Town of Mombasa.
It was enough that Xavier raised his hand so that the small bus would pull over to the shoulder and pick up the two new passengers. The collector tells us that they are 30 Kenyan shillings per head, but ends up charging us 50 (average euro). twenty minutes later, The driver apologizes and
for dry. It's not going to take us to Old Town. In fact, we are still quite far away. All passengers have to leave the matatu. We protest and a young Kenyan advises us to take another bus and even offers to pay our fare..
The metallic sound of rap crackles as if the radio station were broadcasting from the depths of the abyss
We walk with him until we get on the second matatu. This time they charge us 20 shillings each. As the previous, you have 14 plazas. Eleven are occupied. We are the only white people and there is only one woman. I sit in the last row and, listening to that guttural rap that seems to have been ripped from the bowels of some orc, we finally arrive at Makadara Road, from where we walk towards the historical icon of the city: Fort Jesus. Before, we passed by the old Court of Justice, a building built more than a century ago that now houses a bookstore, archaeological collections of the National Museum and offices next to a last jurisdictional stronghold (The Court moved to 1984 to the nearby Treasury Square).
Down street, We immediately arrive at the fort built by the Portuguese at the end of the 16th century, originally named Fort Felipe in honor of Felipe II, because at that time Portugal was part of the Hispanic monarchy. Next to the main door, in the gardens surrounding the bastion, the cannons of a British cruiser are found, the Pegasus, sunk in 1914 by Koenigberg German and whose artillery pieces, recovered, They were later used in the defense of Mombasa and Zanzibar.
From Makadara Road, We walk towards the historical icon of the city, the Portuguese fort of Fort Jesus
The price of admission is 1.200 shillings (For nationals they are significantly cheaper). The fortification, built on a promontory, It dominates the entire bay where the old port of Mombasa is located. The old Portuguese lighthouses that guided ships to the docks can still be seen in the bay.. The architect in charge of carrying out the project was Joao Batista Cairato, helped by Gaspar Rodrigues, construction manager. They both arrived in Mombasa with the troops of Mateo de Vasconcelos.
Fort Jesus has gone through a multitude of vicissitudes over the last few centuries.: was conquered by Omani troops in 1698 after three years of siege and even became a prison at the end of the 19th century. Walking slowly down the road round, divining the Indian through the loopholes, looking out over the bay from the guard tower, is to breathe the air of centuries by immersing yourself in the history of one of the most important ports in Africa. Behind our back, the red walls of St. Stephen's Bastion, peeled, undressed long ago due to humidity and apathy.
Walking slowly down the road round, divining the Indian through the loopholes, It is to breathe the air of centuries
What caught my attention the most, however, It was the wall of graffiti by anonymous Portuguese sailors from the beginning of the 17th century (restored in 1967). Like any self-respecting soldier, then and now, The walls of a fort are a canvas of experiences, complaints, curses and wit. In this case, its authors used charcoal and red oxide to leave their "graffiti" on the plaster, where ships and men are confused with fish, grotesque figures, bows and even a chameleon. Just three words: «Baoque Sao» (possibly the name of a ship) and "Lemos", the surname of one of the sailors. None of those who painted these walls could think that, four centuries later, His doodles would be one of the main attractions of the fort. How much art has been wasted on bathroom doors!
Before leaving the fort (where you can also visit a small museum), we approach the bastion of San Felipe, at the other end of the fortification, where the last Portuguese resistance to the Omani siege was extinguished, who renamed it Omani Arab House. Here the captain died defending Fort Jesus Pedro Leitao de Gamboa. Now it houses a brief exhibition of Oman's greatest glory, its history and its culture. In times of dominion, This bastion was the home of the prison guard (In the old kitchen of the prison there is now a souvenir shop).
The walk to the old port between peeling buildings, The smell of saltpeter and bougainvillea is a must-do imagination exercise.
The walk through Old Town from the fort to the old port of Mombasa, between narrow streets, chipped buildings, smell of nitrate and palm groves and bougainvilleas is a must exercise of imagination: fantasize about what this old neighborhood could be shortly after investing some money in its rehabilitation. The inscriptions on the ground with the legend "Save Old Town" I presume also share that dream.
To our right the entire roadstead of the port of Mombasa opens, that the explorer Richard Burton was surprised to see, in 1859, filled with hundreds of ships. The glory days of the Old Port , however, have already passed and now the large ships dock in Deep down, on the other part of the island, the most important port in East Africa, the door to maritime trade not only of Kenya, but also from countries like Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi and Democratic Republic of the Congo. To visit it they charge an entrance fee., although Javier acts crazy and goes in to take some photos. I do the same a few seconds later, but the guard reminds us that we have to pay. We hide behind the usual tourist confusion to retrace our steps muttering apologies.. In the nearby Fish Market no need to pay, but when I look out I only see a handful of gloomy stalls, almost genderless, without the color of traditional African markets. It is a postcard frozen in time by the salt of the Indian Ocean..
On the ground floor of the historic Leven House there is now a Swahili restaurant with a terrace that lazily overlooks the Indian Ocean
Despite the abandonment of this part of the old town (a pocket replica of the Stone Tone of Zanzibar), Its streets are walked with pleasure and curiosity, sniffing the trace of history on each facade. As in the Life House. Almost two centuries contemplate this building in which the British Empire centralized its fight against the slave trade in the 19th century. This house has an illustrious list of guests: from the aforementioned Burton and Speke, the discoverer of the sources of the Nile, even the missionaries Krapf and Rebman. Was, also, governor's residence, children's school, headquarters of a German shipping company and German consulate until 1997 It was acquired by the National Museum of Kenya, that prompted his rehabilitation a decade ago.
On the ground floor there is now a Swahili food restaurant with a terrace that lazily overlooks the Indian Ocean and stairs that descend the cliff to the pier., where a tunnel opened in the rock also ends next to the sea. We sit on the floor, barefoot, arabic style. The waiter, a teenage boy, clarifies that they do not sell alcohol. We ordered two samosas and as many cokes., but he makes a mistake and brings two coffees.
Photographing the old Lunatic Train railway bridge while the tuk-tuk waits, you think you couldn't be more geeky
Soon we are wandering again, until we decided to eat at Africa Hotel, the oldest in Mombasa (opened in 1901), now converted into a restaurant, the Raisins. A century ago, its twelve old rooms overlooked the sea amid the smells of rancid fish., curry and fecal water. Today, Between the Indian Ocean and the building there are several houses that deprive it of those privileged views.. Nothing that prevents us from enjoying a chicken cooked in the Swahili style, dipped in coconut sauce.
back to hotel, still undigested food, we prefer to get on a tuk-tuk. The driver is wearing a Barcelona shirt with the name David Villa To the back. In penance, for the same price we make you detour to the end of Me Avenue -where the famous Tusks are located (two pairs of elephant tusks that draw an arch over the avenue)- to photograph the remains of the Kenya Uganda Railway Bridge, the old railway bridge over which the Tren Lunatic, which we will get on in just a few hours. The initials of the legendary railway line are still marked on the stone (WHERE). The taxi driver shoves the tuk-tuk into the ditch to avoid the devilish traffic. I get out of the vehicle and take a couple of hasty photos to the surprise of the driver.. It's at times like this when you think you can't be any geekier..
More information about this and other routes through Kenya at: Kobo Safaris.
