The Old Man & the Sea
Well, that’s the name of the Malindi restaurant which, for the first time in my life, had dinner and felt what life ought to be. They serve the sweetest meal you can ever have. Honey-coated chicken wings, a glass of cold, really sweet, passion juice with all the Mexican-Italian blings and, yes, something called ‘Tiramisu’, that italian dessert, which my escort enjoyed immensely.
After the dinner, I looked at the sparkling glass, at the waiter and then, I smiled. That’s how I ought to live every single day of my remaining life.
Malindi is a nice place...the white beach so looks like the one in Diani. Gede is cutely quiet and so is Watamu. You may miss the night-life –the noisy discotheques that engulf Malindi when the ‘citiots’ drop in for the weekend, but if you’re not the noisy-type, that’s the place to be. Malindi is tranquil. Warmly nice. Well-mannered. Welcoming. And for the record, I didn’t spend money on anything I hadn’t planned to.
After four days, I had a fleeting sense that I had arrived. I told my chum that “I can now die”. I think, I happened to understand why and how David Ochami of the Standard so often makes such a statement. You feel you have no worries. You crave a challenge. Something to make your muscles, mind and brain tense again. I enjoyed the moment. I liked it. Heavens, I even loved it.
I came to the city this morning in time for a 10-kilometre run in Karura, as I get ready for the climb to the top of Mt Kilimanjaro. That’s coming up in October. Mid-October. Yeah, and while I was away Facebook, I gather, unleashed some changes to its interface. The second case is on at The Hague. Well, I’ll enjoy my weekend. For now.
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