Diary of a gay Kenyan

• Tamaku does London

  Posted: March 7, 2010, 10:44 pm by Tamaku

  When a generous client, mentor, one- time compañero and sometime benefactor sends an urgent email saying I want you up in England for a couple of days, all expenses paid, you don’t say mmmm, I’m not sure what I’ve got on my diary, Sanchez – let me think about it and I’ll get back to you. This is what happened to me the other week, so I hopped on a plane and arrived to a chilly London. One thing I noticed is that more roads are now potholed (shock, horror) but nothing remotely like Nairobi roads. My tattooed cabbie Dave told me the heavy snows of the previous months have played havoc on infrastructure, but I heard as if he called it infrastuckture. Apparently this happens when water-logged newly re-carpeted surfaces expand causing cracks on roads when it freezes. You learn something new every day, not all of it useful. Also did you know that jelly beans are good for causing a bowel movement? And another thing matey, Audi A6 estates and BMW 5 series are rubbish in snow, even many 4x4’s except Land Rover Discos, naturally, will struggle but you’d expect German cars to know a thing about snow. Talking of cars, Shiko-Msa if I get you that red Toyota Solara people might start to talk, hehehe...
  
  I had two straight days of intense meetings in Bishopsgate a short walk from Liverpool Street station and went back to my 3 star hotel room in Wembley after like every nice gay businessman does. I wished I’d brought my toys to keep me entertained as I watched porno on the old lappie, hahahaha, but a few nights without never hurt anyone though it can make you cranky in the mornings. The crowded tube carriage is one of my least favourite places anywhere during rush hour but it’s a microcosm of life in one of the world’s greatest cities. Desperately gaunt druggies in sodden coats on their way to chase dragons sat next to nervous Goldman Sachs millionaire wankers bankers in chic Aquascutum vintage coats on their way to/from a rat race for humans. And the women putting on their makeup flawlessly on the tube, vulgar with a capital V like Vietnam decadence, yet so captivating. My alter ego has extremist socialist views especially when I spot subtle displays of excess leave alone ostentatious ones. To be honest with you, I think the word I’m really looking for is envy.
  
  London was like enforced rehab for me because I didn’t drink a drop except on Saturday when I allowed myself more than a little treat to compensate. Saturday evening was raining incessantly, the kind of night when I’d never go out in Nairobi so I just sat in the hotel bar which was full of confident Man Utd fans over for the match with Aston Villa on Sunday. I met travelling discordant couple Marilyn and Lee (he’s Manu while she’s a hardcore brummie Villa fan) and we polished off a bottle of Bombay Sapphire and later chased with some Disaronno, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson about mixing drinks by now. Duly ginned, we blue-toothed email addresses and they said they’d come to Nairobi later in the year but it might just have been the drink talking.
  
  The hotel where I stayed is on Empire Way (suitably named for a queen, I thought) and I had a standard room overlooking a building site, I think it’s for Wembley City. But I didn’t mind because I could see the stadium arch from my room. I took this picture on my phone on Saturday night when I walked round the back of the hotel smoking a cigarette in the drizzle and after speaking on the phone to George. Sorry but my phone doesn’t have a zoom. There was a private party in one of the function rooms at the rear and when I heard PYT blasting away I was so tempted to gatecrash but I’m so glad I didn’t even though I can still shake it. Also my return flight home was on Sunday morning and I had the taxi booked for 6.
  
  When I arrived back in Nairobi, George picked me up from the airport and I said to him hey you my PYT, I really missed your loving. He said show me how much so we went straight home to bed and just had milky cocoa and biscuits after my shower, lol, you know what we actually had. Yes, yes, it was very good...
  
  
  

  
  

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Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes