Day 498 - Old Town

My adventure through Old Town today began at 10:30am. I had a boda boda driver I met, his name is John, take me out to see some sights. I had my first mutate ride. I am quite certain that I had the most uncomfortable seat in the whole van. I was in the front seat, in the middle, sitting on what felt like a piece of plywood covered in upholstery. The engine also just so happens to be under the front seat so my seat was uncomfortable hot. I not only had a numb bum, but also a overheated butt. Two uncomfortable things no person wishes to inflict on themselves. With music blaring, it was comparable to a really bad nightclub. We drove past vendors on the street, boda bodas. We pasted one carrying five people. I am quite certain that is the record in my books.  We arrived to our destination, Old Town in Mombasa, where we walked around and attempted to visit a Hindu Temple. Our access was denied at the Hindu Temple for unknown reasons. We walked about, enjoyed the architecture. Old town is quite beautiful. There are electrical wires strung overhead on every street. This adds character to the place but it also takes away some of the attractiveness of the buildings. Fort Jesus was next on the agenda. It was a very interesting tour and I am quite happy I went there.

Once two o’clock came along, I was quite ready to be done being the tourist in Mombasa so home it was. One last stop for a late lunch at a local place and then back home to the beach.

 I had another challenging moment today. I had to get a centipede out of the house. This involved a magazine and quite a bit of squealing. I managed to throw the nasty thing out the window after dropping it only once. Centipedes are so gross.

History lesson Fort Jesus:

The Portuguese Vasco da Gama first came to Mombasa in 1498, but his relations with the town’s people deteriorated rapidly. After just one week the Portuguese thought it prudent to sail on to friendly Malindi where they established their first East African base. But Mombasa’s natural harbour soon attracted foreign attention and a Turkish expedition built a fort there in 1589. Fearing for the security of their route back to Portugal, the Portuguese attacked and took Mombasa in 1593, and began at once to build a large fort to guard the harbour entrance. The Portuguese regarded themselves as the representatives of Christendom rather than of Portugal, and for this reason they sailed under the flag of the Order of Christ. Jesus was therefore an obvious name for the new fort. Its angular form was dictated by the rules of military defense and an Italian architect from Goa, the Fort now lies tranquilly in the sun. But it was not always so. Fort Jesus has suffered  a history of murder, siege, starvation, bombardment and treachery that makes our modern world of hi-jacking and thuggery seem quite tame. And in those pre-radio days every sail that appeared on the horizon must have caused nerve-racking hours of anxiety to the small colony, (probably never more than a hundred strong men) and separated from home by six months sailing. Fort Jesus has preserved the same basic shape as when it was built nearly 400 years ago.