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Kenya's coastline stretches from no-go Somalia in the north, past luxury beach resorts, to Tanzania's Zanzibar archipelago in the south. It is a relatively short coast at only 500km, but nearly every traveller to Kenya makes it here at some point, and who am I to break from the norm? Well, I usually am the first to do just that actually, but for once, I'll have a traditional 'normal' week. There's still lots to experience and one can find rich Swahili culture, scary young prostitutes, and, of course, beautiful equatorial beaches. This past week, I stumbled upon all three, or rather, at least one of them stumbled upon me. It's not that riveting a story, but it allows me the opportunity to use the word 'sex' in the title, something I ashamedly have wanted to do for a while, just to simply see what it does to my readership level. An experiment, if you will.

Kenya's Coast - Escaping sex for an island

Simon Wadsworth
2006-09-04 12:27:40

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Kenya's coastline stretches from no-go Somalia in the north, past luxury beach resorts, to Tanzania's Zanzibar archipelago in the south. It is a relatively short coast at only 500km, but nearly every traveller to Kenya makes it here at some point, and who am I to break from the norm? Well, I usually am the first to do just that actually, but for once, I'll have a traditional 'normal' week. There's still lots to experience and one can find rich Swahili culture, scary young prostitutes, and, of course, beautiful equatorial beaches. This past week, I stumbled upon all three, or rather, at least one of them stumbled upon me. It's not that riveting a story, but it allows me the opportunity to use the word 'sex' in the title, something I ashamedly have wanted to do for a while, just to simply see what it does to my readership level. An experiment, if you will.

It all started innocently enough, with oneself sitting on a beach near a place called Malindi, doing my usual activities of reading, writing and burning, when a girl by the name of Suzie approached me, leant over suggestively from above, before sitting down to start a ritual conversation. It was pretty obvious what was going on here - clues such as said leaning, an alcoholic tinge in the air, and the failure to provide a decent answer to my question "so, what do you do?" The final test came when I started praising my girlfriend and showing her lots of photos. She grew dis-interested very quickly, and I returned to my reading, writing and burning.

A day goes by and I'm sitting in an open-air bar having a late dinner watching the footy, when annoyingly, my peace is disturbed by one Suzie the Prozzie, who, as glorious luck would have it, was in the same bar. I would liked to have left, but Brazil were playing a promisingly (for the other teams), bad match and I wanted to watch to the end; besides, I had honed into her by this point that there was only one girl ...