Philip Briggs
revels in the slow pace of this small island off the north Kenyan coast.
Lamu is the black hole of
laidbackness. The gospel of African travel is peppered with stories of
travellers who have drifted into Lamu intending to stay a few days and ended up
hanging around for months.
Apocrypha, perhaps, but that is hardly the
point: spend a few days in this small island town off the north coast of Kenya,
and you can hardly fail to succumb to its addictively lethargic atmosphere.
For us, the spell was cast even before we set foot on Lamu Island. From
the resort town of Malindi a light aircraft operated by Air Kenya flew us over
a glittering coastline studded with expansive blue estuaries, jungle-lined
rivers, tall green dunes, and the occasional isolated mud dwelling. The plane
touched down on Manda, a low, mangrove-covered island separated from Lamu by a
narrow channel which creates an almost riverine aspect to the town. From Manda,
we crossed to Lamu on a dhow built to a design that has changed little in
centuries, entranced as the row of whitewashed Swahili buildings that comprise
Lamu’s atmospheric waterfront drew closer.
Much of Lamu’s
charm lies in the manner in which it has embraced tourism and adopted outside
influences without having sacrificed its soul. This is probably the most
culturally and architecturally cohesive town of its size in East Africa, yet
paradoxically it is also among the most cosmopolitan. If one single image can
be said to encapsulate traditional Lamu, it is the Swahili women, draped in
their black bui-bui veils, who glide through the shaded alleys, silent and
inscrutable, only to vanish around a corner or into an ornately-carved wooden
doorway.
The adaptability of the townsfolk is illustrated by the row
of inexpensive restaurants along the waterfront, where delicious traditional
Swahili fare and seafood are offered alongside such backpacker staples as
curries, pancakes, yoghurt, spaghetti and garlic toast—not to mention a
vast assortment of indecently yummy fresh fruit purées. If there is
better eating to be had at a comparable price anywhere in Africa, point me to
it!
Lamu’s waterfront is the first sight to greet most visitors
to the town, and one of its most enduring images. Contrary to appearances,
however, the present waterfront is a relatively modern addition, dating to the
1830s, when the densely packed layers of rubble that had accumulated at the
water’s edge were reclaimed and built over. Otherwise, the street plan of
Lamu probably dates from the early eighteenth century when the town peaked as a
centre of maritime trade, architectural innovation, literary enterprise and
Islamic scholarship.
The antiquity of Lamu is difficult to ascertain,
but as early as the fourteenth century it was entrenched as one of the
thirty-odd autonomous city-states that dotted the Swahili Coast between Somalia
and the Zambezi Delta. Lamu was by all accounts a relatively minor power at
this time, certainly not comparable in stature to the great medieval
gold-trading emporium of Kilwa Kisiwani in southern Tanzania. And, in common
with those other city-states that have survived to the present day (Mombasa and
Malindi for instance), Lamu has been rebuilt and restored so many times over
the centuries that its earlier incarnations are lost forever.
To gain
some idea of what medieval Lamu might have looked like, you need to visit the
ruins of one of the contemporaneous cities that were abandoned during the
Portuguese occupation. Of these, Kilwa Kisiwani and Gedi (near Malindi) are the
most inspiring, but for visitors to Lamu the ruined city of Takwa has the
distinct advantage of proximity. Situated on Manda Island, Takwa lies an hour
by dhow from Lamu at high tide, and its attractive old mosque, ruined houses
and impressive pillar tombs throw rich illumination on Lamu’s past.
Surprisingly, Lamu boasts few noteworthy historical landmarks. The fort
built in 1821 by the Sultan of Oman is one; the informative and well-organised
national museum another. Ultimately, however, it is the dream-like atmosphere
of the old town that seduces so many visitors into staying on another day...
and another... Lamu is best experienced whimsically, by drifting aimlessly
through the alleys, occasionally climbing to the rooftop of one of the
town’s many multi-storey, open-plan buildings, or stopping for a cold
drink and chat in one of the local cafés.
One can hardly fail
to notice the sense of community that binds Lamu. The old town cannot easily be
divided into residential, business and commercial sectors: many people work in
the ground floor of the house in which they live, while children play and old
men gossip and smoke pipes on the busiest of thoroughfares. The obvious point
of comparison, Zanzibar’s Stone Town, is now a traditional enclave in a
large modern city.
The old town of Lamu, by contrast, stands alone.
Where the alleys of Zanzibar have been infested by murderously manic
motorcyclists, the roads of Lamu are imposed upon by a heady total of three
motorised vehicles—one tractor, one motorbike and one Land Rover. On Lamu,
life is lived literally at walking pace: whether on one’s own legs or on
those of the island’s ubiquitous donkeys.
The old town comes
first, second and third on any list of Lamu’s attractions. Whereas this
mesmerising enclave of traditional Swahili culture and architecture represents
a unique slice of living history, the beaches and reefs of the Lamu Archipelago
are approximated in many other parts of East Africa. Still, it would be remiss
not to mention that Lamu does boast a couple of superb beaches, and some
upmarket lodges to match. A short dhow ride or walk from the old town, Shela
Beach is a gorgeous 12km stretch of red sand and blue water, making it an
obvious point of escape when the narrow alleys of Lamu town become
overbearingly sweaty.
Situated on Shela Beach, the Peponi Hotel is a
venerable Lamu institution, combing elegant Swahili and colonial architecture
with a world-class menu and winning air of hedonism. Better still, in our
estimation, is Kipungani Lodge on the landward side of the island, an
organically-constructed retreat that sprawls lushly along an isolated
palm-lined strip of travel brochure perfection.
For excursions further
afield than Shela, most travellers work through the profusion of hustlers who
hang out along Lamu waterfront. Lamu’s touts have been described as the
most relaxed in the world, and so they are. We were approached daily by a host
of familiar faces—Captain JJ, Captain Bubu, Captain Whoever—with
fresh suggestions for activities: a dhow ride to Takwa, a snorkelling excursion
on the dazzling reefs of Manda Toto, a donkey trip across the island to the
dhow-building village of Matondoni. Choose wisely, because many of these
characters are so permanently stoned that I’d be loath to entrust them
with any task more taxing than rolling another joint. What did impress,
however, was the touts’ unerring ability to maintain a friendly demeanour.
You’ll be accosted with great frequency in Lamu, but only rarely will you
be hassled.
When I first visited Lamu in 1993, the backpacker traffic,
which has always been the mainstay for the island’s independent touts, had
been reduced to a trickle as a result of bandit attacks along the bus route
from Mombasa. On my last morning on the island, I sat on the verandah of
Petley’s Inn—the oldest and most atmospheric hotel in
town—nursing a beer and watching the dhows billow past in the company of a
tout who I’d befriended over my stay. As my pal returned, somewhat
wearingly, to his pet topic of how tough times had become without any
travellers passing through, a pair of young backpackers stepped off the boat
which ferries new arrivals to the island. “Stop moaning,” I
suggested, “and try to do a bit of business”. My friend raised his
head half-heartedly and sighed: “It’s too late for business.” I
looked at my watch. It was midday in the black hole of laidbackness.
Lamu
factfile Getting There Most international visitors
fly into Lamu. Air Kenya operates daily services between Lamu and Mombasa (and
Nairobi). The airport is on Manda island, a short dhow trip to Lamu.
Getting Around Motorised dhows can transport you from Lamu
village and Shela, and there are regular dhow and ferry services connecting
Lamu with Paté island.
Accommodation Undoubtably the two top-rated establishments on Lamu are Kipungani
Lodge and Peponi Hotel. There are also a number of very good (mostly
self-catering but well-serviced) guest houses, of which your African travel
specialist should be able to recommend a few. Budget hotels in the
middle-to-cheap range are abundant, but these are largely restricted to Lamu
town itself.
And Don’t Forget Pate...
Any notion that Lamu exists in some kind of
time-warp will be placed in perspective by a visit to Paté Island.
An utterly captivating anachronism, Paté town consists of a
disorientating maze of alleys hemmed in by tall stone buildings. When we walked
through Paté, we felt as if we were deep in the heart of a vast
traditional city, and even after two days we were constantly getting lost. Yet
when viewed from the rooftops, it is clear that this urban labyrinth stretches
for no more than 500m in any direction, giving way abruptly to dense mangroves
and coconut plantations. The population of what might well be the most isolated
block of high-rise buildings in Africa is estimated at 2000!
Paté was founded in the ninth century, and in its fifteenth and
eighteenth century heydays it was at least the equal of Lamu as a centre of
trade and learning. That Paté was favoured over Lamu by Portuguese and
Omani settlers is writ large on the cosmopolitan facial characteristics of its
people. The tobacco fields on the outskirts of town are delineated by a set of
ruined medieval walls more extensive even than the famous Gedi Ruins, though
the site is less well-preserved. The modern town, reputedly an eighteenth
century entity, has been erected phoenix-like using lumps of coral-rag removed
from the walls of its more illustrious predecessor.
If Paté
town leaves you hungry for more, its smaller and even more obscure neighbour
Siyu unveils further facets of the historical treasure trove that is the Lamu
Archipelago: a nineteenth century fortress, a cluster of overgrown tombs and
ruined mosques, modern habitations with an open floor plan reminiscent of the
ruined houses seen at sites such as Gedi and Takwa...
All in all,
Paté Island is a superb goal for adventurous travellers. It is connected
to Lamu by a motorised dhow which departs daily at high tide, a two-hour boat
trip followed by a 45-minute walk to Paté town, where anybody will be
able to point you to the private guesthouse in the tallest building. Siyu is a
90-minute walk from Paté town.
Philip Briggs is a regular
contributor to Travel Africa. He is the author of eight African guide books,
including the Bradt Guide to Kenya.
