Translating Messages From Heads To Hearts

Nairobi: 3:30 am

I’m trying to think of lots of clever things to say, but all I can get out is . . . “why the heck couldn’t I sleep!!???” I intentionally stayed awake over the duration of both our flights – starting at 9 pm in California (9 hour 46 minutes flight to Heathrow) until we arrived in Nairobi at 7 am (8 hours from Heathrow to Jomo Kenyatta) Sunday morning. The best I can figure is that “Saturday” for us only lasted 4 hours while we were in London. At Jomo, smiling, giant white-teeth John, the hotel’s driver, greeted us. Walking to the van, we were accosted by several men trying to wrench luggage out of our hands to “help us.” They were greatly disappointed at (1) Sherry’s vise-grip on her carry-on bag, (2) I carried my own luggage and (3) when one finally grabbed my large backpack and threw it into the van during the millisecond I set it down, I only gave him $1. John just laughed.

Arriving at the Heron Hotel, Sherry showered and went straight to bed. The staff here are wonderful. The desk clerk arranged for a new cell phone, which we’ll use whenever we’re in Africa – he assured me it would even work in the US. If you need to reach us for the next couple of months, the number is (254) 071 706 0345. I finally gave in to the need for a nap, and so slept from about noon to five. We wandered around the hotel for a bit, sat on the terrace enjoying the cool breeze and trying not to be grouchy at each other because we were so tired. By about 8 pm I could barely keep my eyes open.

I was sure that a tall Tusker (African beer) and 2 melatonins would do the trick and I’d wake up cheerful, rested and ready for the day . . . at about 7 am. So at around 9 pm, I climbed into our very comfortable queen-size. No dice. Awake every two hours or so and at 3:30 am I was wide-awake, listening to a mosquito dive-bombing my ear; I finally caved at 4:30 . . . and so here I am. Thanks for being interested enough to read this far!

1 thought on “Nairobi: 3:30 am”

  1. Welcome to the world of ‘going- east-ten-hours-jet-lag.’ It’s brutal. My motto: sleep when you’re tired and carry a big (good) book.

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