After days of early mornings and dusty drives on safari, I longed for a quiet corner of Kenya to slow down — and Lamu was the perfect answer. I caught a short domestic flight with Jambo Jet, and within an hour I found myself gliding above turquoise waters, watching the mainland fade into the horizon.

Stepping off the boat that carried me to the island felt like crossing into another rhythm of life. I stayed in a small, rustic guesthouse right in the heart of Lamu town, far from the modern villas that line the beach. I wanted to experience the island as it truly is — where cats nap in the shade, dhows float lazily by, and fishermen mend their nets at dawn.

Life in the Narrow Alleys

Days unfolded at a slow, deliberate pace. I wandered through the labyrinth of coral-stone alleys, where walls whispered stories of centuries past. Every few steps, I’d have to press myself against a wall to let a child galloping on a donkey pass, laughing as dust kicked up around us. Conversations came easily — a smile here, a greeting there — until faces became familiar and strangers turned into friends.

The Charm of Simplicity

What struck me most about Lamu was its sense of humanity. On the public squares, people gathered not for screens or schedules, but for music, games, and conversation. The craftsmanship here is exquisite — wood carvers, weavers, and dhow builders shaping art from their surroundings, as they have for generations.

Lamu feels frozen in time, yet change is beginning to creep in. Motorbikes — once unthinkable on this island ruled by donkeys and dhows — are starting to appear. Still, the essence of Lamu endures: its quiet rhythm, its generosity, and its deep connection to the sea.

For me, it was the perfect transition after the wild energy of safari — a place to pause, reflect, and reconnect. Traveling solo here reminded me that Kenya isn’t just about its vast savannas and wildlife, but also about its coastal soul — warm, slow, and endlessly human.

Lamu

(42)