The places in between

Having finished my contract in Nairobi at the end of May, I set off for some good old fashioned vegabonding with a very good friend and a representative of the famjam. June was an incredible month of travelling that took us to the Indian Ocean in Kenya, travelling down the coast by bus to Dar, ferrying to Zanzibar for the night and spice markets of Stonetown, finding my inner adrenaline junkie at Victoria Falls in Zambia, safari-ing in the Ngorongoro Crater, Serengeti, and Lake Manyara, before proudly showing my guests the charms of what has become my hometown – Nairobi.

The destinations were beautiful, filled with wonders (or in one case one of the Wonders of the World), and places that you visit and remember. But what I find just as, if not more, enticing than the destinations themselves, is the journey to get to them. What happens along the road, the rail, or in the air, and the places you visit in between getting to your big ticket items.

When I first came to Kenya I read: “The Places In Between” by Rory Stewart – the story of a man who walked across Afghanistan in January 2002. An account of the people and places he encountered along the way. I thought about the book a number of times over the month, and just how the title makes so much sense. About what we discover between our preconceived ideas of destination.


Clouded sunrise. I told the clouds to move, but they didn't listen. They've grown on me though.



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