I always get excited when I chance upon a perfectly fitting dress off the rack. No matter how well-stitched, nothing comes close to a tailor-made alternative.
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The same goes for travel. I rarely settle for the tried and tested destinations that are available online or which people recommend. I visit places that people have rarely heard of because I like discovering places.
Some weeks back, I headed to a new place in Nanyuki, Storms Resort, and got there during a rainy evening.
Windstorms are so prevalent there, hence the name but the residents have learned to live with it, and usually watch the magnificence of storms sweeping whatever is in their path.
Accessing the resort, which is 16 kilometres from Nanyuki town, along Doldol Road is not easy. Barely any vehicles ply the route, and taxi drivers who were willing to risk the ride charged exorbitant rates, considering that it was raining.
Since I could not walk all the way, I hired a cab, and resolved not to think about the price. To distract myself, I immerse myself in the vanity that is Instagram.
A few kilometres into my bumpy ride, my phone lost internet connectivity, and almost immediately, the cab ground to a halt!
It was pitch dark. It felt like I was starring in a scary episode of Crisis where a bus full of the children of Washington’s elite and their chaperones are ambushed while on a secluded road on the way back from a field trip.
I submitted myself to fate and prayed that someone will pay my ransom, as and when the time comes. As if sensing my fear, the driver reassured me that the area has no internet connectivity and I should not be worried.
There is a British army camp nearby, he said, and there is no mobile phone mast because of the planes. My fear subsided but I was still on high alert.
The driver fiddled with some cables, and the car roared in to life. An hour later, I was warm in my tent getting ready for bed.
I like camping, and the canopy chairs and the hurricane lamp enhanced the camping experience. I love modern camping, the kind in which I do not have to pitch my own tent or carry along a sleeping bag, a hot water bottle, a torch, the works.
I did not have to do any of that at Storms Resort. The tent I was in overlooks the river and offers absolute privacy.
Comfortable and spacious, it has abundant natural light filtering through its transparent floor-to-ceiling “windows.” Each of the five tents in the expansive compound is surrounded by lush greenery.
For a local touch, the bed comes with a thoughtfully provided mosquito net, which also keeps off other flying insects. The 1000-acre parcel, in which Storms Resort sits, has an electric fence. Then each tent has its own fence.
The metallic swinging gate from my tent leads to a well-manicured field, with a lone tree. Even then, it is very appealing.
A sumptuous breakfast was served on the lawn the following morning, when I was supposed to go hiking. After the hearty meal, I spent the rest of the day lazing around because, according to the manager, I woke up late and by 11 am, you cannot do much because it is too hot.”
I woke up early on the second day, but the manager had organised a guided quad biking tour around the expansive parcel of land.
That was a less tiring, and fabulous two-hour experience through the forest which gave me an insight into the area.
Later in the afternoon, I went to a bridge, which I was assured is a “treasure for adrenaline junkies.”
Being the adrenaline junkie I think I am, I dive off the bridge. It is a long way down, or so it seemed, but the feeling I got once I hit the icy water, was heavenly.
I left the resort feeling nostalgic. I had relived some of my childhood memories. To make matters worse, or better, I see traditional mud huts with decorated walls.