Beach vacation during Covid-19: My mid-week getaway in Malindi

If the pandemic has left you begging for a change of scenery in the last few months, you’re not alone. Having spent the bulk of this year indoors, with part of your face covered when running errands, distanced from friends and loved ones, and abiding by the ever-changing rules and regulations set in place by the government, many deserve a break.

However, booking a ticket and hotel on a whim isn't as easy as it was just a year ago.

With the rising number of Covid-19 cases, there are a score of health risks and ethical factors to take into consideration when booking a vacation.

Since I moved to Kenya two years ago, I’ve made it a habit to go to the Coast and with each week that passed this year, the idea of sinking my white toes in the equally white, hot sand was looking more and more like a dream.

And then I got the call, “Do you want to go to Malindi?” And from there, my dreams turned to reality. A hesitant reality, albeit.

The last time I had been to Malindi was 16 years ago, when my cousin Monalisa moved there from Nairobi and had given birth to her first son, Johari, which is also the name of her restaurant. I was only 11 at the time, but I can still recall the Salat al-Zuhr booming from the local mosque’s loudspeaker.

Safety

For those like myself fortunate enough to travel, and to do it safely and responsibly, the option to travel around Kenya, especially in the coastal region, exists and it exists in abundance. Safety being paramount.

At Jomo Kenyatta International Airport the mandatory security check at the entrance now features a hand-washing bay. The departure terminal has officials who take your temperature and offer you sanitizer before you proceed to the check in counter and finalise details to get on board.

As Magical Kenya has placed an emphasis on local tourism, the waiting bay for local departures is a bit too cramped to be socially distanced from other passengers. To ease my fear of flying, I grabbed a gin and tonic and patiently waited to board my first flight since the onset of the pandemic.

My family had rented a serviced house just a stone's throw away from the Ruins of Gedi, complete with cleaners, chefs and even a travelling masseuse named Kim from the Philippines to cater for the 12 of us staying in the house. Again, in a bid to protect themselves and the people they’re serving, the house staff were masked throughout our stay at the house and kept their distance while still catering to our needs.

Crab samosas

On our first full day in Malindi, a few of us took a day trip up to Watamu, the sustainable ecotourism destination, for a birthday lunch. As we drove 15 kilometres south of Malindi, we passed through small towns and clusters of people who seemed to be oblivious to Covid-19 restrictions. Masks? Non-existent. Social distancing? None of that.

On making it to Crab Shack, I was surprised to find the restaurant at near capacity. And most of the customers were actually Nairobians. How did I know? We were all wearing masks.

Crab Shack, the open air, perched restaurant, only accessible by a 200-metre board-walk, sits among mangrove trees, overlooks the ocean and serves the freshest of crab samosas. In fact, they’re so fresh that our family ordered 40, thus buying all in the restaurant.

For the most part, the tables were spread out, the servers and cooks were wearing masks and the overall hygiene was decent. Despite months of slow business in tourist spots, you would think that maybe the servers lost their touch, but the service at Crab Shack was on point.

After more than filling lunch, we dashed back to Malindi so that we could make it back to the local supermarket, 7 to 7, before it closed to buy pizza toppings as the chef offered to make pizza, a skill he learned while working for Italians. As I idled outside of the car waiting for my aunts to finish shopping, locals would walk by me and look at me like I’m a square egg. I thought I was getting funny looks because I was overly dressed to be at a supermarket, but then I shortly realised that it was because I was wearing a mask.

Historical sites

The following day began with an early morning massage from Kim followed by a walk on the beach. Strolling along the beach, it was saddening to find that many of the hotels that closed during the onset of the pandemic are still closed with the private beach-front seating for guests empty and even dilapidated like the Ruins of Gedi.

Next on the agenda after the long walk was discovering the old Swahili town. We headed over to the ruins where our masked tour guide gave us a crash history course about the ruins, from its conception in the 12th century, to the speculations regarding its abandonment, to now its current state as a preserved historical site. The ruins tell a story of a prosperous city, filled with Arab-influenced architecture and surrounded by a lush forest, shrouded in mystery as no written documents regarding the place and its nearly 400 years of existence exist.

From there, it was to the recently reopened Vasco da Gama pillar where the tall, white edifice, contrasted against the deep blue colour of the ocean, tells the story of the Portuguese explorer’s warm reception to the coastal region of Kenya. During the down season, the pillar underwent a facelift as the soil around the 500 year old pillar was eroding and had the potential to fall into the ocean.

After a long day of history class, we decided to treat ourselves at Osteria for some gelato—I treated myself to some rum and raisin—before we headed back to the house for a bit of R&R. Sticking to the theme of social distancing and staying away from enclosed locations, we ate our gelato outside on the patio of the restaurant while the sunset for the evening.

Despite seeing many people letting their guard down by not wearing masks, following sanitizing protocols and social distancing, my mid-week getaway added up to a safe and stress-free couple of days. For those couple of days, the pandemic seemed like a distant memory… until I returned to Nairobi.