Kenyatta again. This time through immigration, collect luggage and find the man with the EXPLORE sign. There are supposed to be eight of us but after 3/4s of an hour wait we conclude that no. 8 is a no-show. Make our way to minibuses to take us to Wilson Airport for the onward flight: Jenny and me; Jackie, a middle-aged woman who's just joined Gordon Brown at the Treasury (he eats in the staff restaurant and sometimes brings his kid in); Sarah, a headhunter; Adam and Rebecca, who're Navy; and Morgan, Irish, fresh from hand-rearing cheetah cubs and failed to read the note about the US$300 local payment and hasn't changed any money. Sarah subs him.
The local rep takes our money, agrees to organise a city tour of Nairobi and a meal to fill in the hours between 4pm and 9pm when we will be at a lose end during our return journey, and runs.
Longish wait for a smallish plane. Check in is on a first names only basis. We have to change planes at the first stop then make sure we get off at the right stop after that. It's like buses.
45 minute flight to land on a mud strip by a herd of zebra. Our bags are offloaded and we carry them ourselves across the mud and load them onto our third plane of the day. Spot the thatch roofed, open-sided hut that passes for the departure lounge. Two short hops and we're at our destination - Siana Springs Lodge, complete with its own airstrip.
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