Not even a thousand years at the crossroads of an international trade route has given Lamu, off Kenya’s north-east coast, much sense of urgency. But it has left a rich blend of East African Swahili, Indian, Omani, Yemeni and some Portuguese influences. Lamu Town has been recognised by Unesco as the oldest and best-preserved Swahili settlement in East Africa.
It’s a fascinating place to explore, with its museum, many mosques and tradesmen plying their traditional crafts — ironmongers still beating red-hot metal and coconuts being squeezed for oil. Men lounge about playing backgammon while the bustling streets buzz with activity.
Unlike the more commercial Mombasa coast to the south, there are no big five-star, all-inclusive complexes or large groups of tourists on Lamu. Beaches backed by dunes stretch for miles with hardly a soul on them. The more upmarket accommodation is concentrated in Shela, and ranges from guesthouses reminiscent of Arabian palaces and beautifully restored, whitewashed houses to resorts consisting of beach huts known locally as bandas.
Shela Village is less than an hour’s stroll from Lamu Town, but very different. The only thing you’re dodging down the narrow lanes are donkeys and barefoot kids. It’s a hippy haven that’s had an injection of glamour recently, thanks to the likes of Princess Caroline of Monaco. I felt like one of the select few as I lounged at Peponi’s restaurant, sipping a concoction of crushed lime and honey called a dawa while watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean.
At Peponi’s, I was invited to a dinner party by an American author. We dined on spicy samoosas doused in lime juice and fish pilau accompanied by coconut sauce infused with cinnamon, cumin, cardamom and chillies. Arabian and Indian influences still hold strong in the Lamu cuisine: garlic, ginger and spices are staples and limes are used in everything.
Tucked between coral stone buildings, a few thatched huts, crumbling ruins of houses dating back to the 12th century and the odd small shop, the Banana Penthouse is easy to miss. The only thing that gives it away is the set of great hardwood doors that open on to courtyards of palm and acacia trees and bougainvillea.
My apartment had a vast veranda overlooking the channel to Manda Island and was decked out in couches covered with bright blue, yellow and pink cushions, encouraging me to lounge at any opportunity. There was also a kikoi, the Lamu version of a sarong, which guests are encouraged to wear as a long skirt to cover their knees out of respect for the Muslim residents.
If no dinner invites come your way there’s a relatively small selection of restaurants to choose from, such as Peponi’s and Petley’s Hotel in Lamu Town. Or you can stay where you are and have the Banana Penthouse’s resident chef cook up a meal, which is served on the veranda.
The island is surrounded by mangrove wetlands that are home to an abundance of enormous crabs and lobsters. Yellowfin tuna, kingfish and marlin are also plentiful, as well as lesser-known dorado and wahoo in season. I placed my order early, as instructed, so supplies could be bought from the local fisherman.
It’s an unnecessary effort to be active in Shela, but even harder further round the island at Kizingo, the self-styled ”no news, no shoes” beach resort. Six bandas are strategically positioned in the dunes for privacy. I was lulled to sleep by the lapping of the sea and, without the 5am wake-up call of muezzin cries and braying donkeys you get in Shela, I even managed a lie-in.
After a couple of days alternating between my lounging on the veranda and walking down the beach, I summed up the energy to accompany Louis, the owner, on his daily snorkelling trip where I saw an impressive selection of sea life, including a pod of dolphins.
There’s a small shop at Kizingo where you can buy locally made leather sandals, accessories and wooden carvings, but if you want more variety, save your money for Lamu Town, where you can barter to your heart’s delight in the numerous silversmiths, tailors and furniture stores. — Â