The first time I arrived in Kenya was, as is the case for so many other Italians, on vacation.
I remember that the hotel in Malindi was not much, but the smiling staff and good food, particularly the roasted fish and fruit, made up for some shortcomings.
For example over the week-long vacation there was a shortage of water at least twice throughout the day, but we were told "that's Africa, that's how it is. Look at the beautiful sea and vegetation, though."

The beach in front of this hotel was almost always full of seaweed, but getting up early in the morning and walking around at low tide, looking at the colors and breathing in the salty air was beautiful.
You had to do it at dawn, otherwise you would get run over by pushy little boys who wanted to sell you everything, even though they had nothing in their hands.
Actually these people who called Beach Boys and liked to give themselves Italian names like Zucchero or Papa Smurf were trying to take you to people who actually worked and sold crafts or clothes, hoping to get the commission.

Anyway, the first time was nice but I realized I should come back without being a tourist and then I hadn't even managed to go on safari.
So I came back six months later as soon as I had another week's vacation.
That time I got a room in a small African lodge that a waiter at the hotel from the first time had recommended to me when I had told him I didn't want to go back there.

In a week there was never any shortage of water, although it was not very clean and no fish was eaten.
I did have a nice safari, though, and met some good guys, hard-working and not layabouts who live by gimmicks like the big smurfs.
Don't think bad, I didn't "fall in love" like so many Italians here, because from that point of view, at fifty-eight years old, I decided to put my mind at rest. Besides, the important thing is to feel good, you don't necessarily need to lose your mind and objectivity.

So the third time I came back I decided I would get a little house of my own in the outskirts of Malindi.
As soon as I can I run away there and I am a few years away from retirement, my fixed dream is to move there for good.
In the morning I have to walk a few more kilometers to get to the sea, and it is not Silversand beach, but the big one that goes all the way to the pier, and in some ways it is even better: here I meet the fishermen, I stop to watch them when they take the nets off the boats, and when I come back there are always children bathing happily.

I think what you need is mostly health insurance, because going into a public hospital I got my hands in the few hairs I have left and knowing how to give up a few things you like, especially to eat.
Otherwise, if you love the sea, nature, you like contact with people, even just to chat and not feel lonely, and you are not too naive or easy to fall in love, in my opinion there is no better place than the Kenyan coast to live away from a world that has become impossible.
And here I close, not to say anything unseemly about Italy, which is still the most beautiful country in the world, and the Italians who in my opinion do not deserve it.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write on malindikenya.net, which I have been reading every day for years.
Long live you and long live Kenya!

An anonymous reader