First, a disclaimer. I am not a story teller. That position is held by the likes of Tish and Ark. I don’t think it is even possible to train me to be a story teller. The saying you cannot teach an old dog new tricks must have been said with me in mind. And so, I own that saying. Having made the above declaration, we can now go ahead with my retelling of my trip to Mogadishu.
The airline we flew to Mogadishu, must, as was observed by my colleague, have a contract with a funeral home. We flew an EMB 120, which felt and looked liked it was the first to be made for commercial flights and when the many owners got tired of operating it, African Express discovered in a plane junkyard and put it back together. However, to their credit, the crew managed to take us smoothly to Somalia. I slept most of the trip and when I was not sleeping, I was reading or eating or drinking something.
There was no incident at immigration, thank goodness.
Now, I don’t know about you, but for $150 in Kenya, a taxi could take you for a journey across counties, say Nairobi to Nakuru and back and if you were to hire a car, that would be sufficient for two day hire and fuel to and fro Kisumu. And if it is one of these Toyota cars that flood our market that seem to only smell fuel, you could save some money for simple accommodation on the way. If you are in Mogadishu, that’t the fare from the airport to a hotel 300m away, no kidding.
That’s the boring part. The interesting part is we were picked up in an armored car, with an outrider and chase car. At the hotel, we had the option of wearing bullet proof vests, an opportunity I let pass. They looked too heavy, the heat quite a lot and I don’t think there was anyone who would want to kidnap a broke ass Kenyan who the government may not even miss. So we drove through backstreets and main roads like we owned the place, a feeling I am yet to place. Sometimes they even drove on the wrong side of the road if traffic was slow, it felt like being VIP, or maybe they were trying to justify the $1200 fee we were going to pay at the end.
For $150 a night hotel, we got cold showers. There was the option for no water in the room, though my friend refused that and had to be moved to a smaller room. While I had water, the amount paid meant the shower does no drain. I didn’t ask if there were additional charges for working sanitary fittings, maybe for the next trip.
I think electrical engineers and electricians in Mogadishu need a few lessons on how hotel guests use rooms. For $150, I want a bedside lamp, a ceiling rose not a fluorescent light bulb.
To their credit, they serve very good tea. Their breakfast is hopeless, I mean, really hopeless.
For this trip, I will not mention the two times my bag was searched by a dog, first as you enter the terminal and second in the departure lounge just before boarding. It’s called not taking chances with your security.
A travel report is not complete without pictures, or as they say in our cycling group, if it is not on strava, it didn’t happen.
Was this a holiday or a work trip?
Serious? No hot water?
What about lunch and supper?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Work trip. I could not leave the hotel to go to the beach. My friend who works in Mogadishu said I can be kidnapped.
We didn’t have lunch at the hotel. Supper was passable
LikeLiked by 2 people
Were you on a ”look- see” venture or have you already been contracted to do work?
I think you ought to be paid danger money under the circumstances.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The work has began already. We had first site meeting yesterday
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent! Sounds like loads of fun!
Architects in bullet proof vests.
Just watch your back, as they say.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Professional risks. It used to be just helmets and boots. Bullet proof vests takes the fun out of practice
LikeLiked by 1 person
You have a weird sense of humour, Mak!
LikeLike
Well many thanks for the lovely tribute. But I think this is a really great piece, Mak. Made me laugh out loud. Of course you’re a story teller. The only thing you didn’t say was why the devil you were in Mogadishu with all that armoured protection. You aren’t actually building something there, are you?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am building something there. We are rebuilding SOS children villages that were destroyed during the war years
LikeLiked by 3 people
Well very good on you. And very brave too. Will this mean more trips?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, at least monthly for a year or someone else will go on my behalf
LikeLiked by 3 people
All I can say is hats off to you, and safe journeys.
LikeLiked by 1 person
”All I can say is hats off to you,…”
Under the circumstances, I reckon he ought to keep his hat on , don’t you?
LikeLike
Quite a good story and very funny. As others said above, Why you go der, my man?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now that I know you’re on strava, I’m going to track you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Be my guest. I will just change my name 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
The room looks terrible for that kind of cash! I hope you stay safe on this job.
LikeLike
I dunno. His room looks downright palatial compared to many I’ve had in America.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We have crappy rooms here too, but not for $150 a night.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The rooms are huge for nothing. They could do better with smaller rooms.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Did I mention you can’t call room service from the room. Should you need anything, one would have to walk to the reception to get help.
LikeLiked by 1 person
For $150 a night…..ridiculous!
LikeLike
First, O Exalted Holiness, you are indeed a story-teller. in the same class and caliber of my favorite, Mark Twain. Don’t ever let anyone try to convince you otherwise. Naked hugs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, but you exaggerate
LikeLiked by 2 people
Seriously, you are truly a great storyteller. Mark Twain exaggerated and I guess I acquired my ability from reading too much of his tales. Naked hugs and much love!
LikeLike
[…] time when I was in Garowe, Puntland, I was met by a choir. In Kismayo, they didn’t even know I was coming. There was no […]
LikeLike