Five Hours to Mombasa on the Madaraka Express — Epoche A2
Last month I took the Madaraka Express, the fast train from Nairobi down to Mombasa on the coast. I bought the ticket with my ID number, so my own name stood on the seat list and nobody else could travel on it. The morning started at the terminus outside the city. My bag went through a machine, as at an airport, and a guard checked my pockets. Then we sat in a cool, clean carriage, and a few minutes later we pulled out. After two hours the land opened and turned red. We were crossing Tsavo, where the line runs through the park. A woman two seats away pointed without a word, and there they were: elephants, grey under the dust, walking slowly away from the noise of us. We reached Mombasa in the early afternoon, about five hours after leaving. People still expect a train in Africa to be old, slow and late. This one was none of those things. My uncle misses the old night train — dinner on a moving table, sleep, and the sea waiting in the morning. The fast traveller arrives; the slow traveller sees. I came to the coast with my whole day still in my hands, and I am not yet sure what I paid for it.