**This article was sent to us by a travel writer who likes to call himself the Wandering Expat. He sent it in anonymously because he doesn’t want his identity revealed. Tax evasion maybe? We hope you enjoy his weekend review**
The thing that stood out for this weekend from the several that I’ve spent in Distant Relatives was the relative normalcy of it all. It was good to see the jungle veiled eco-backpackers in its natural state of calm, not the frenetic preparation that leads into their annual New Year’s blow out.
That first long Friday I idled the hours away, crossing back and forth throughout the leafy confines of the backpackers’ grounds. It was time to get familiar, to spend time with dawas poolside and wander down through the bamboo out towards the beach along the creek. This place has always had a special vibe for me, some sudden onset of zen that becomes rapidly inescapable. Walking around the bar, near the red velvet pool table one can see some of those recognizable faces.
Gareth Humphreys (or G-Funk) is one of those faces, and can often be found tending bar or playing sand volleyball after his shift is up. The general manager (I understand he’s gone till October now) of Distant Relatives is also the man behind some of the most memorable art installations the place has ever seen, including the psychedelic-octopus that glowed during its occupation of the tree above the dance floor during Kilifi New Year 2017. Now the party season has died down, but that hasn’t taken the life force from DR, “We just try to keep the chill vibes going here, even though this is one of the quieter times of the year, we’ve got to keep it lively and keep up the energy.”
A flurry of phone calls and weekend day drinkers ordering another round whisks Gareth away from the interview towards his natural place of tending to the vibe. This is the weekend after all, no ‘quiet season’ ever really changes that. The Friday night crowd is soon to roll in and to sip Nile specials and catch up while the sunset dips below the baobab and the pool lights take on their blue glow in the water. Such a night would call for music, something that the main house of Distant Relatives is in tune with. This Friday is set to feature Reggee Jones, the traveling legend from South Africa, who’s spent four decades making bodies move across the African continent.
“For me its all about young people,” explains Regee, seated on a red kanga covered couch, the chatter of guests murmuring quietly from around the high-ceilinged room, “that’s what I can always connect with and that’s what I connect with here at DR you know, the young people, the vibe reminds me of the days I only played to uni students.”
From elsewhere in the main room, laughter breaks out as a group of Kenyans and Americans delight over a flush hand of cards. Reggee smiles a bit, “the energy is just unique here, that’s why I always come back around to play at Distant Relatives.” The man of a thousand beats prepares for his set, which ran for at least three hours late into the Friday evening, bodies dancing in the courtyard as new, old and temporary friendships were forged around tables under the starlight, dull light flickering off the giant painted face that backs the stage adjacent to the volley ball court.
Saturday’s are always a day to get lost in, to wake up surrounded by the swirling sounds of the bamboo drowning out the vague chattering of monkeys and the creek’s currents off in the distance. Such days are good for staying within the backpackers confines and taking in the scene of it all.
For the scene to stay ‘it’ an operation needs someone that can be defined as ‘glue’, holding together all the strains and ideas and making sure they’re pulled off with aplum.* For Distant Relative’s that’s Christine Nyarangi, the administrator who always seems to be everywhere at once, “we just try to make sure everyone’s happy, all the guests and whoever comes through the backpackers. People love this place because you’re free to do what you want and be easy, that’s why I love it. We really try for that and that’s what guests will tell you, people that work here are friendly, we want to talk to the people that stay with us and make them feel as welcome as possible.”
Sometimes it is hard not to feel that same feeling in these halls, things flow together and there’s always something happening. On this Saturday it was sailing with Captain Issa, out and around the creek during sunset hours, drifting along with quickness, taking the wind as it comes. Much later that night I wandered with new friends down to the beach to go wading, and as the moonlight was dull, the bio-luminescence appeared with strange force flowing out from the movements in water like their own tiny universes.
The next evening, Sunday and my last day at DR was helped by the efforts Pwani University Coasta Salsa Club swaying within the sand to music coming from a speaker on their table, taking the space of Distant Relatives as a catalyst for their dancing.
“We wanted a change of scenery,” says Ivy Mia one of the salsa dancers, “this place has a calming effect to it, DR is more accepting of us and we like dancing here, this place and the people who work here reach out to the community and support our art.”
As you can see, sometimes the vibes become all together too strong, and up until Sunday at 8:07 PM (my bus was due to leave for Nairobi at nine) I had the sudden onset urge to stay indefinitely. I managed to resist it, but the pull back to Distant Relatives Backpackers and the whole Kilifi scene never wanders far from my mind.
The Wandering Expat
The views expressed in this article and any such article remain those of the author and do not reflect those of Distant Relatives LTD.