It’s always a good sign when the driver spends the first 5 minutes bailing out the bottom of the boat before you can leave the island. Just when I thought he was done he switched to the other, smaller bailer to get into the depths of the boat and get more water out. Maybe that was why the woman next to me was praying to Allah.

The ferry crawled along as everyone and their chickens got on along various stops, inevitably making us late for the 7am bus, which left at 7:20, waiting for the rest of the boats to arrive so we could travel in convoy towards Malindi. I was by myself for this part of the trip, splitting ways with Marieke and Jon after our great night in Malindi, when it was discovered that there had been recent attacks on buses traveling to Lamu, terrorists particularly targeting Christian men. I had been recommended Lamu by numerous backpackers, so I counted on my gender and luck to get me through. Plus, we had already paid for an apartment and bus tickets, and a true budget traveler would not give that up. 

The water surrounding Lamu island was crystal clear and the facades of the mosques were pristine white, making for gorgeous daily walks into town from the (absurdely luxurious for one person) apartment I had for a few nights. The island was a bit of a contrast between historical footpaths teeming with donkeys, motorbikes and people vying for space in the narrow corridors, historically built so to keep the sun and heat of the day away, and gorgeous endless beaches outside of town where you could swim in a bikini without feeling very culturally inappropriate. I loved it.

After being inspired by our delicious dinner in Malindi, I was stoked to find coconut cream widely available in the shops, and made myself coconut vegetable curries every night, washed down by fresh homemade juice, taking advantage of the juicer in the well stocked kitchen in the apartment and avoiding the high restaurant prices. The rest of the time I spent wandering the winding paths, checking out the historical sites, and of course, reading. 

The morning of check-out I found myself on the aforementioned ferry back to the mainland, followed by a 9 hour bus, interrupted only by a few security checks, which considering the recent attacks, I was quite grateful for. I arrived in Mombasa at about 4pm, where Marieke and Jon were waiting in the apartment we had rented in the heart of old town.