25 Apr 2007

Memoirs of a Non- Danish Princess I


Everything has an end; especially those that you never want to. Like a nice long holiday in one of the world's most beautiful islands, or a candlelit dinner by the beach with the waves lapping gently on the reefs and the shores, like making love in the calmness of the ocean in the middle of the night, and seeing a shooting start just then…being so excited that you forget to wish on it.

I had promised a day to day update on what happened, and now as I think about it, it's flooding back as memories, and I'm tearing. Think lying snuggled in bed next to the love of your life, as the sun rays stream through the curtains and fill the room with tiny crisscrossing beams of light on the walls. And all you feel is magic. Your heart beating, beating for the love you feel then, that particular moment when nothing matters apart from the two of you on that bed. And you treasure each second because you know, one day, all that will be a memory.

One that you know you will play back over and over in your head until you can't stand it anymore. One that you know, one day that is all you'll ever have to look into. And one day is now; it is this minute, this hour, today. It will be tomorrow, next week, and the next months to come. I'm clutching at memories, even the tiniest. Those that I never thought would count. Like looking up from a book and finding those gray pools of love staring at me, then those fabulously full lips break into a smile. That lasted about 2 seconds, I forgot all about it 3 seconds later. Now, days, months later, I have dug into the deepest crevice of my brain and retracted that episode. That is what is putting me to bed every night; what is making me get out of bed and face the day, knowing that in the evening, I will have to go back to that lonely cold bed. I have gone through all the time we spent together. And I mean all. Fighting, laughing, talking, joking, crying, almost-breaking up, saying goodbye very early in the morning to Uganda, picking him at the airport, picking him at the bus station, traveling to a tucked away ranch, cooking our first dinner there, sunbathing in the natural pool naked, making love in the open, taking pictures, him attacking a tree stump, him injured, me having to pull out splinters from his blood-flooding leg, him to hospital, cooking together at home, diners at an Ethiopian restaurant, coffee, snuggling on the couch, watching movies at the cinema, drinks at the pub, football matches, bus ride to Dar es salaam, forgotten passport, first night in hot hot hot hot Dar, sweating profusely on the bed as we fought for air, making love in the heat and gasping for breath afterwards.

I getting sea sick on the ferry, overrated restaurant that took forever to serve food, which was cold when it arrived, fans switched off at 1 am in a hotel min Zanzibar and having to switch hotels at 2 am after 1 hour argument with the caretaker (one I should actually forget), trudging through Stone Town with our backpacks and him sweating so much that you could wring the sweat from the shirt. I rejecting one hotel after the other, him holding on the last possible shreds of his patience, getting to a cozy hotel, overcharged since the owner saw the weariness in our faces –worth it though. Drinking Funky Monkeys that tasted like shit (not that I know how that tastes)Being overcharged at the car to the beach, making love in the beach hotel for the first night, fighting about something I cannot remember, making love some more, pregnancy scare, diner by the beach front, making love in the water at night and during the day, him lying on the hammock- tanning, him looking at me from across the table, then bending ever so slowly towards me, kissing me so softly, so tenderly.

And my heart skipping a beat…just then.

Switching hotels since we loved the beach so much and had run out of money, and had to look for one which takes credit cards. Our last day in Zanzibar beach and Stone Town, our last night in Dar, and our 24 hour journey from Dar to Nairobi! Me in hospital waiting for my biopsy, him looking down at me after my biopsy as I struggle to fight the anesthesia as he kisses me ever so sweetly.

The last night before he left, making love- feeling like a virgin after the biopsy… me folding his shirts to fit into his backpack, crying all the while, crying some more all the way to the airport in the morning, crying too much I have to leave. I walking away, pausing, turning back, him waving, last memory. One that is to last me till maybe, December.

Now blank.

With many more that I have not included, not that they were not worth remembering, but because I simply cannot state all of them.

He is my Danish Viking Prince. My Gentle Storm. My Boyfriend. My Lover. My Bestfriend.

I miss him.

I love him.

13 Apr 2007

Sun Sand and sex... not in that order...

It just hit me that I have never gone on holiday per se. I mean, I have taken few days off tom have fun, but to actually travel, do nothing, be unreachable, sleep in a nice hotel, shop and just lie around…not really. Well, now I'm, on one. In Zanzibar… because DVP decided that he love me so much , wants me all to himself, and wants a romantic holiday with the woman of his life.

And since I'm not supposed to be near a computer (not even supposed to remember how they work) I won't tell you more. Will give a day by day account when I get back…

Fighting Stumps...

I was supposed to have blogged these weeks ago. But things happened and I kept postponing it. And I kinda felt that I owed you, the reader an update of what has been happening in my life since I claimed that I was bonding. Claimed... not really, we really were doing that.

So I go for a shoot at the foot of the escarpment. Now for those who know the Great Rift Valley view point, you do agree that that is one of the most awesome sights in Kenya. We are staying in this Ranch where they bottle mineral water, a Garden of Eden Tucked away… See opposite image

I had mixed feelings about the place. One; anger. It is owned by colonialist. Now I have no problem with the British,, but after reading "Britain's Gulag", the las thing I want to see id a settler on Kenyan soil. But that a sentiment for another day. Two; romantic. Yes, so romantic that I took DVP there for a three day getaway. Now, the owners (grrr) have tapped the spring water into natural pools enclosed by water lilies and vegetation around that you can skinny dip in broad daylight without a fear. You do know what follows skinny dipping…

On the last day, after much sun and sex, sometimes not in that order, we sat around waiting to be picked up back to Nairobi. Now, the following story has different versions, depending on who you talk to. ME: DVP was walking going to bird watch, leaving me alone to occupy myself. The gods saw this not to be fit, and decided to halt him. He walked right into a tree stump, fell on a cactus plant and got almost 3 inches of a splinter into his shin. I had to drain liters of blood before I got the splinter out. Almost three weeks later, he is still nursing the wound, the stump still stands. HIM: I was trying to make my g/friend laugh, a cactus tree, the size of a baobab appeared from nowhere, attacked me, and I have o stay, I was not fit enough, but you should see the tree now. I'm way better…STUMP: I have been dead for 25 years, was just ling around, as usual when this human walked into me. I did not mean to hurt anyone; after all, I'm dead. He did, however, steal apart of my heritage, took it with him in his leg.

What can I say, everyone has different perspective of situations..