A place that will always remind you of swahili culture

When English pop band Bee Gees sang, “Nobody gets too much heaven no more, it’s much harder to come by” in their title track, Too Much Heaven it was a charming way to present a love song. That was in 1979, and records show they hadn’t come to Africa, for had they visited, I am sure they would have edited their lyrics even slightly because there are a few good resorts where surely God was hinting about the paradise that awaits us in heaven.

Comfort, hospitality and luxury are some of the words that define Hemings way Resort, located along the white sand Watamu beaches in Mombasa. A little piece of heaven is served here. Its beauty cannot be exaggerated, for it is listed as one of the one of the world’s top 10 beaches to visit. Part of the reason lies in its sophisticated ambience that does not lose the Swahili architectural style.

Our journey begun from the airport at Mombasa, and the sites on the drive reveal that this place has kept its historical look. The flat-topped houses still have that colonial look, a reminder of those high school history classes. But that’s not all that your eyes will feast on. There are the beautiful water fronts and floating boats, and the tycoons, mostly foreigners lazily basking in the sun at the sands. Luckily, the sun won’t be burning them after all, because the green thickets and palm trees provide good shade and let in the much-liked breeze off the magnificent Indian Ocean.

Now this is a life your writer wants to live in the evening years of his life, simply go out to the coast worried of how much there is to see than how much havoc such a trip would wreak on his pockets or fat accounts then. Along the beach line are beautiful cottage facilities that sit on well-tended lawns.

After an hour’s drive from the airport we finally get into Hemingsway’s Tropical Resort, a rich tropical recourse of foliage and palm trees. My appetite, by now was thoroughly whetted, yet we are only disembarking.

Charlie Claw's, Wasini Island

What lay beyond the green and strong brick walls told of more beauty, of a restaurant and cottages with an open view into the oceans. At this time of the year, foreign tourists like to utilise their evening hours doing some water sports while other take the sun-downer boat rides in Arab dhows. These sights are a marvel.

The décor at the reception tells of how popular water spots are because pieces of art depicting fish are all over the walls. In the ocean, a child is playing with its father and mother, all cheery. And as I take all this in, I am offered a welcome drink. However, the humidity is beginning to take its toll on me and I feel like swimming.

“We understand you might be feeling warm so we will lead you to your rooms and then you can have some lunch. Feel free to enjoy a swim afterwards,” one of the hotel managers briefs us, almost reading my thoughts because I was gearing for a good swim at the blue giant pool, seating in the midst of the resort’s compound.  Up to our rooms Hemingsway mastered the craft of hospitality and splendour. There is a big bed, so large, it makes your writer hate singlehood like never before. It occurs to him that life is so irrational and one fact is glaring – I need love in my life. To go with the comfortable bed are three different lighting systems and a bathroom you could spend a couple of hours in, perhaps making love or doing romantic reading to that special person. I am “beaten” and decide to take in the breeze from my balcony, from where the ocean, tourists – some running along the coastline and others relaxing, and waving palm trees all highlight the beauty of the beach country.

The beach boys, the ones popular for offering sex to tourists, are not gone. And as I take in the coastal magnificence, one passes three windows from mine trying to show off his muscle. He goes down on all fours and, in a dash, does 20 press-ups, perhaps trying to impress a female tourist.

The darkness is soon upon us and boy oh boy, lonely is the night. There was a band to get us in the groovy mood till the dying hours of the night when we retired to our comfortable, luxurious villas.

I have made myself a promise to work smarter than harder because it’s the easier way to make more money, and then return to Mombasa later in this life and more so make it a habit to travel and marvel at beauties around this wide world.

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