Room 622

John had been staying at the PanAfric, a hotel on Kenyatta Avenue which Scott and I saw while walking into the city from the youth hostel. We stopped to ask the desk clerk if he had checked back in. As the man tried to phone room 622, we turned to see John standing half way down the spiral stairway watching us, grinning. His flight to Khartoum had been postponed and he had been in Nairobi all along. We toasted White Cap beers in his four star room.

That evening, John introduced us to Stoley, a burly helicopter mechanic from Idaho, and to several other people from the company he was working for. We all went out for a fine dinner at a restaurant which was well over Scott's and my frugal budget but splurged anyway, feasting on Mount Kenya quail. Later, we reveled at a night club in the city where they familiarized us with Kenya Cane, a smooth but potent alcohol distilled from sugar cane.