Back to basic

For the first time of our journey that is collected in the blogs that you so willingly read, we are about to offer an apology. Slowly we started to lose our touch. Our typical addition of salt ‘n pepper and a bunch of other spices that formed the beautiful and widely appreciated dish that we served became tasteless and plain boring. The three blunt adventurous that you better know as the ThreeLeftHands lost their balls, afraid to offend the people that might read our genius stories. As we travel, we can’t walk normal anymore because of dangling bowlingballs between our thighs, but virtually, well… we could hardly trace them down anymore. So from this moment on, not longer do we improve with every blog we send you, instead we go back to basic; personal, blunt, sharp and immature. An Arab is a beard again, a black man is a lazy bastard, Jews are funny sideburns, all Americans are Indians and Dutch people are the coolest tribe around. We know we offend you, but you’ll still read the rest of this entry.

Leaving Ethiopia almost with a blast

Only fifty kilometers south of the pothole that some people foolishly named the city Zeway, our dented spirits are replenished by the lush surroundings that replace the dust where we spend about two months fertilizing the local mentality, unsuccessfully. The people in the south are expecting less from our white skin and are more friendly. This, we figure, is promising for the Rasta community in Sashemani and smiling we take the local plants that people offer us. Sadly, the people here are not the peaceful sharing equal of hippies, but alternative businessmen that think we’ll pay them money for pointing a gun at our head after drugging us. Dazed and confused we make our hasty way out of this disappointing area.

The next two days however, are fantastic again. Finally we camped in the wild, without waking up with a staring crowd around us. The only crowd we had, walked on four legs and made us clear that we placed some bait way to close to our van by eating all of it and also destroyed the trap that accompanied the bait, so Noflik came out quite handy by chasing away boars, hyena’s and more creatures that we couldn’t identify in the dark. The local bushmen kept far from the strange people on their land and it took us some effort to take away their fear. This job is way more fun than chasing away the local lazy beggars that infested Ethiopia so thoroughly.

Flat tires on the worst road

Three drifters in an old van oddly doesn’t raise suspicion at the border and without any check or question we’re allowed in to Kenya. It starts out great; the cost of a visa was lowered by 25 dollar and happily we pick up two Asian hitchers that need a ride to Nairobi. In two days, we tell them and ourselves, we’ll arrive in Kenya’s capital. But that was before we entered the truck-raided pile of stones and gravel that the government dares to determine a road; it takes us about a week to cover sixhundred kilometers with the top of ridicule in Isiolo, where we had to change our tires a stunning and exhausting six times. Six times. Can somebody teach the people here how to properly fix a tire? And when your at it, show them how to construct a road. People already warned us for this part, being rubbish and robber-infested, but we didn’t expect this. Then again, easy does it on this kind of track and if there is one thing that your infamous heroes are, it’s easy.

Traditions in Nairobi

So, easy and exhausted we enter Nairobi a couple of days later and after kicking Ping and Pong out of our Doutzen, we figure we deserve a beer. But first food. Looking for traditional food, we discover that the British did not only improve the country with for example their language, but also polluted it with huge amounts of fish and chips which results in the huge asses that cover the streets. A beer then, after all, that also counts for two pieces of bread and thus considered healthy by the ThreeLeftHands. In the nearest bar our hairy appearance immediately attracts loads of women. Although they are not our taste, and thats mildly put, its flattering. Asking around what’s happening here, we find out that the most women here are making their living by joining you to your hotel and ask money for it. Might be a reason why every gray white guy has a Maasai girl on his lap. The rest of the evening we enjoy ourself by shocking the girls with the message that we don’t pay for sex.

Well, dear reader, you can imagine how much we love this place, so Doutzen stays parked here for about a week, in the center of Nairobi. At this site we meet loads of disfunctional people, rob a thief, save a life, become celebrities and simply enjoy enervating Kenya. These and more adventures are recorded in the next blog, that you’ll find on this website. Where else.

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Tags: balls, crime, Ethiopia, fish and chips, kenya