Sun n’Sands (with more than a dash of rain!)

The third phase of our family holiday began with an evening rush hour drive from the airport and through Mombasa to the beach resort about 30 km north. A 40-seater tour company coach occupied by the four of us and a couple of staff was a very secure place from which to observe the cacophony and apparent mayhem of international trucks bound for the port, matatus bent on out-doing the Blackpool illuminations for sheer dazzle whilst causing a few heart-stopping moments along the way, and what appeared to be very romantic candle-lit street-side eating places. Had the journey been during daylight hours, I guess the raw reality of a busy, over-populated and often impoverished urban centre would have been far more obvious.
As it was we arrived at 8.45 p.m. at the Club Sun n’ Sands where an orange wrist band was secured on each of us apart from James – who even though he had celebrated his 17th birthday a week earlier, was not supposed to (!!!) have access to the more potent of brews concocted by the ever-eager bar staff. By the end of our five days, he had probably been the most dedicated customer of theirs out of the four of us, though Peter, having struggled with a very sore throat for most of the holiday, also found some relief in an occasional high-strength rum and coke! We were all too tired to really take much of the very rushed welcome briefing in, and headed off for late supper.

Then followed some glorious days of relaxing by and in the pools – complete with organized water sports, opportunities for the forging of new friendships by the boys, and more than a few chapters read for pleasure. The final two days of the stay were pock-marked by deluges, but with the insights of the previous parts of our holiday, we couldn’t but be glad for Kenya, (or at least, the coastal part of this vast and beautiful and desperate country) as opposed to sad for the mostly hugely over-weight all-inclusive holidaymakers, mainly from the UK. I dread to imagine what the inside of an average Airtours or Cosmos ‘plane from Manchester or Glasgow looks or feels like, when filled with individuals occupying a seat and a half each – and that is before they have over-indulged with the three extensive buffet meals and additional substantial snacks on offer during the course of a fortnight’s stay at a place like Sun n’Sands. And I am in no position to exclude myself from criticism: the anticipated weight loss I had hoped for as a consequence of frugal Kenyan fare has not happened yet. Perhaps the return to Arocha’s more simple provisoon of maize, beans and the Ugali which defies definition will help in this respect!

The general contrast between the condition and attitudes of many of the hotel guests, and the ever-attentive, courteous and gracious staff has been one of the great sadnesses for me so far on my African Odyssey. The superb kitchen staff who were rightly proud of their culinary skills, wonderfully friendly waiters like James, Judy and Musilla, and the efficient, helpful and attractive Business Centre Manager Eveline made the stay at this place so special, as did the presence of groups of Kenyan holiday makers and pan-African conference delegates. 20 years ago, when, as a day guest with Colin and Irene, I visited a few of the hotels on the north and south coasts of Mombasa, it was very rare to see Africans other than as staff members, or hovering beyond the perimeters as “beach boys”. This time around, it was just wonderful to be “scragged” by some whilst playing water polo, or to watch the effervescent enthusiasm of a group of delegates going through some creative team-building exercises. I couldn’t help but feel ashamed that such easy and open friendships would not be the normal fare offered in the United Kingdom to any visitors from Kenya.

The resort was hosting a very prestigious pan-African conference formulating a continental policy on Science and Technology, and I would have just loved to have had some time chatting to some of the delegates. As it is, I will have to look up the website www.aptsnet.org to read up more about it. From the brief conversation I had with one delegate from Madagascar, and another with a Kenyan photographing the event, I suspect there would have been lots of insights for me in the next of my Certificate in Christian Rural and Environmental Studies module, entitled Globalization and Faith.

We had selected this resort as the beach extension to our safari holiday, because it had publicised on its website a certain level of Corporate Social Responsibility. The Sun n’ Sands trust, managed by Eveline, had financed the provision of a number classrooms ( to reduce class sizes to 70!) and an IT suite for one local school, but as usual in this country of contrasts, there is always much more that needs to be done. I did suggest that the hotel could help itself and the local community a bit by: capturing and storing rain water – of which there was plenty during our stay; installing a wind turbine to power the stand-by generator – which was used on numerous occasions whilst we were there; and maybe more contentiously, only providing two self-service buffet meals a day as inclusive for the guests. There was also so much wasted food – left on the plates after the diners had picked through the bits they liked, or left relatively untouched on the serving platters – that some consideration should be given to dealing with it in ways which would benefit the local community far better than it being taken away by refuse collectors. I wonder how long it will be before hotels like this also become courageous enough to introduce a Tourists Corporate Social Responsibility Guide, which would serve to make us more aware of the real Kenya and its needs: economic, environmental, educational and provisional, and maybe send us back from our holidays with a heightened global social conscience, and the resolve to learn something about quality relationships from others than those we are familiar with.

After five days, Jenny, Peter and James headed south whilst I headed north along the coast. The family arrived safely back in Preston after their long journey home, whilst I had got back to Arocha, Mwamba before they even flew out of Mombasa. I brought Peter’s sore throat back with me; I wonder what they each will have taken back in the form of lasting impressions from their own African Odyssey?