Apparently you don't have a travel forum, or even an original works forum, so may as well post this here. I only have part one written. It has a thrilling conclusion. Criticism welcome.
The Irish winters go on way too long. During winter here we get about 8 hours of light a day, about 16 hours of night, and it rains pretty much constantly. It’s weather designed to breed depression.
During one such long, wet winter I found a website called SecretFlying.com, and noticed cheap flights from Dublin to Nairobi, Kenya, via Istanbul, with Turkish Airlines. Probably the Turkroaches were/are trying to expand their geopolitical influence by doing cheap flights or something. €330 roundtrip, with a stop off in Istanbul on the way back. That’s cheap. I booked my flight, then, like a jerk, I called my boss and told him I was going to Kenya in 2 weeks. He was cool with it. I had a great boss back then. I didn’t appreciate him half enough.
Flight over was cool. The moon was out. Seeing the Mediterranean and Borporous for the first time, lit up by the full moon was awesome. I thought about chickening out in Istanbul Airport, and just going around Turkey. But I switched to the next leg, and, even though I was sitting next to a nigger, which made me feel uneasy, seeing the Nile snaking out like an infinite line of yellow sodium light in the moonlight distance is one of the most awesome things I have ever seen.
When I arrived in Kenya it was morning. Flying over Africa was more beautiful than anything I ever imagined. It is God’s country. As we approached Nairobi, and the highlands, I noticed all the small huts of the locals, and thought about drones cleansing the landscape.
When we arrived in Nairobi I hit my first problem in Africa. We had to fill out customs forms. But there were no pens available, and I had no pen in my backpack.
I asked a cute young airport employee if she had a pen. She took my form, filled it out for me, leaving some parts blank, and put it on the desk, with her hand firmly over it. She looked me in the eyes, assertively. “Something for me?” I reached into my stack of Kenyan Shilling notes, and gave her one, a 1000 Shilling note, about €10. She gave me the form. Then I paid for my on-arrival visa and got through customs just fine.
I was filled with panic when I got outside. There were a pack of blacks basically sitting on a wall beside the airport. For some reason the last thing I expected to find in Kenya were black people. Genuinely. I tried to play it cool. I walked around. I found a kiosk selling Orange SIM cards. My mobile phone wasn’t getting even roaming (Meteor from Ireland), so I bought an Orange SIM card, and a data plan. It worked great. Instant, fast 3G.
I wasn’t sure whether to get a Taxi or an Uber from the Airport. I was going to get an Uber, but then decided to man-up and get a Taxi. I made sure to negotiate the price ahead of time, as I had learned on Wikitravel. He was going to charge me a few bucks over what I understood was the going rate, but I didn’t really care enough to haggle.
The trip from the airport to the hotel (which I had booked online was amazing). I loved seeing all the different vehicles on the road. Kenya is so wild and free. Europeans and Americans will talk about liberty all day, all while looking out for any of the zillion spoken and unspoken rules they must observe. Kenya just feels free. Like “do your own shit, just don’t be a retard, and I don’t care.” I made a video call to someone over facebook messenger. I taking video with my phone out the window. The taxi driver advised me to watch my phone. Thieves would run up to you and snatch it right out of your hand, even if you were in a taxi.
The Kikuyu are still the dominant tribe in Kenya. They are friendly people who will look out for you. They are very similar to the Celtic Irish in many ways. I really did appreciate them.
I got to the hotel room. It was in an urban area in Kenya. It felt very much like an African hotel room. It was €35 a night, and wasn’t luxury - for instance there was no air-conditioning. In the bathroom at night there were cockroaches. The shower was just so-so.
The internet in Kenya was pretty good. Both 3G and the hotel Wifi worked well. I made a couple of shopping trips, and went around the town, exploring. Finding my way back to hotel was always a pain. Google maps was great, but I always felt exposed pulling out my phone in the middle of the street. Everyone in Kenya wants a better smartphone, and even though mine was a budget model it was still decent for where I was - an Android Motorola G3.
Nairobi is amazing. Don’t believe lies. It’s a modern city, but it’s also a place with a lot of desperate people. As a white guy you’re basically the 1%. Every once in a while people will go up to you and ask you for money. It’s not constant, but it happens. The first while I was on the street it happened every 10 minutes or so. Then I started scowling, like I was a deeply misanthropic expat, channeling the spirit of Ebenezer Scrooge. Then it happened very little. People sort of read you I guess.
I admit I got bored. I looked up where to hang out in Nairobi. I think my exact search was “girls Nairobi expat”. One of the locations wasn’t too far away, and was a place with a bunch of pubs and outdoor stalls, so I put it into google maps, and headed off on foot.
When I got there there seemed to be a cool place selling Tusker, which seemed to be the local beer, and live music. It seemed pretty cool. There were one or two white faces around - always reassuring in Africa. I sat down. I was fairly relaxed. I think I might have taken a valium, or maybe I was just feeling genuinely relaxed. I started to get hassled by a guy called Chris, who was trying to sell me on a Safari to see lions and stuff.
I would love to go on Safari, but he was asking about €300 or so. I bought him a beer and told him that was outside of my budget, and started chatting with him.
I noticed a cute African Girl, talking to another girl, and checking me out in a predatory manner. The first thing that struck me about her was her grey top, and her amazing, pert breasts. She had a 10/10 face, and gorgeous hair. She was the model of beauty and fertility.
Chris went to the loo when she moved away from her friend and came over to my table. I smiled at her and asked her to sit down. What would she drink. Tusker. She was a beer girl. She had a cute little beer-belly. Her name was Sarah. I talked to her for a while. She was pretty great.
Chris came back a little bit after I would have expected. Together the three of us talked together about me being a tourist, and what I should do in Kenya to enjoy myself. We were putting back lots of beers. I was buying. The beers were a little less than €3 a pint. It was definitely a good time. We were talking about politics, East Africa, the economy, the Westgate siege, and things like that. It really impressed upon me the benefit of talking to local people to get an impression of the local economy.
Chris went to the loo again. I asked Sarah how much she would charge to come back to my hotel room with me. She said $100. I took a look at her boobs and wasn’t able to negotiate any more. “OK”.
By this stage Chris wanted to get rid of Sarah. Sarah wanted to get rid of Chris. I wanted to get rid of Chris. Sarah went to the loo.
I told Chris that Sarah had better tits than he did, and gave him 2,000 Shillings (€20) to stop asking about Safaris. He told me to be careful of girls like Sarah, as “they’ll put something in your drink to knock you out and rob you”. Valid advice I guess.
As Sarah and I were leaving he came back with his boss offering me a reduced rate on Safaris. Dick move. I didn’t appreciate it much.
Sarah got me back to my hotel. She already knew it, even though she didn’t like it. She had superb knowledge of Nairobi, and spoke Swahili, so was able to deal with taxi drivers better than a tourist like I was.
In the room it was obvious that she felt nervous. I felt nervous as well, but she was extraordinarily beautiful. I pulled her clothes off before I really kissed her very much. Inconsiderate I guess. Her breasts were as beautiful as I imagined, meaning beyond description. She didn’t offer any oral. I put on a condom, and started to awkwardly hump her dryish vagina. The sensation was lackluster - I was so used to the porn-death-grip. We kissed some more, and I played with her breasts a little. This time her vagina was much wetter, much tighter. It felt much better. I think she came, or at least she faked coming. But I still couldn’t do it. After a while of trying she flipped around, and told me to try it. I’d never had anal before. The sensation was worse than I could have imagined. Completely off, like fucking a cushion. She wasn’t enjoying it either. For a while I tried to get into the white imperialist fantasy, and imagine I was a cruel white coffee plantation owner cruelly exploiting one of his negress slaves. Take it you black whore!. But I wasn’t able to get into it.
I was sweating all over her. I felt disgusting and tired. I gave up. I fapped to her face and body, and came on her. We took a shower. It was nice. I fell asleep with her in my arms. It was comfy.
The next day
Post last edited by jedi.Goldstein at 2017-10-22T01:07:50.547618+00:00
