Lake Victoria: The adventure is still continuing.

Back at Hotel Bimoss, the rain started tipping it down, and all the flying rain fly-termite things had come into the hotel and restaurant.  I heroically (!)  attempted a plate of chips for dinner, the choices being fried meat, fried fish, ugali, and chips.  Tom – ever the culinary explorer – opted for fried cows’ intestines.  A joy to behold and smell, as sick as I was! Tom will forever live with my new nickname for him:  Bowel-mouth.

Purchasing more unidentified amoeba meds from the lady in the corrugated metal shed, I went to sleep, hoping desperately to be cured by the morning.  I wasn’t.

However, we had a strict timetable to keep, and after suffering through another plate of eggs, we boarded a bus to Homa Bay.  We are still not sure how the bus managed to get us off the island, and onto land.  We are guessing there was a causeway.  There were definitely no boats involved this time.

On arrival in Homa Bay, we found our hotel, checked into a room (fairly clean, good bar – great shout, Lonely Planet).  We decided on a stroll around town, soon to realise town consisted of one street, and there was genuinely nothing to do.  So, as we would, we parked ourselves at the stylishly named “Mega Pub”.  Once again, tables and chairs on the street.  From where, we were suddenly confused to see long queues of people, dressed in identical attire, shuffling up and down the street in time to the music pumping onto the street.  Very weird behaviour.  Soon more queues appeared.  What on earth was going on?

People started gathering, the shufflers took up a formation, and lo and behold- it turned out to be the local choir, giving an Easter gospel concert!  The children were torn between staring at the choir, and staring at the mzungus.  It really was an entertaining day!  Soon it became overcast, and we ran back to the hotel as the first of the rain started to fall.

Back at the hotel, I became increasingly ill, and unable to bear my tears, Tom heroically decided to hunt down a pharmacy in the rain.  He soon returned with:  unidentifiable medication (purporting to cure typhoid, and gonorrhoea), and immodium.  At last a medicine that would help!  Maybe I would survive the 8 hour trip back to Nairobi the next night!  I slept early, while Tom enjoyed the football on TV with the locals at the bar.

In the morning, it was back on the bus, and back to Kisumu.  In these areas of Kenya, the daily bus leaves when it is full.  Full meaning, 2 backsides on every seat, and standing passengers.  Dosed up and queasy on meds, we sat on the bus, in the bus station for an hour and a half before we even moved.  But eventually we were on our way, and at 2.30 arrived in Kisumu.

Needing a break from the dirt, we headed out to the posh Kiboko Bay Resort, who allow day visitors to use their facilities and pool.  Typically, after a quick lunch and changing into our swimwear, the clouds broke and the heavens opened.  We whiled away the afternoon, with beers, and chat, until it was time to go back to the bus station, and board the long night-bus back to Nairobi.

I will leave you with the following info:  this time the bus did not break down, I managed not to poo or puke on myself,  and since then, I am fully back on the food and booze.

 

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