When Vasco da Gama's fleet arrived at
MALINDI in 1498, it met an unexpectedly warm welcome. The king of Malindi had presumably heard of Mombasa's attempts to sabotage the fleet a few days earlier and, no friend of Mombasa himself, he was swift to ally himself with the powerful - and dangerous - Portuguese. Until they finally subdued Mombasa nearly one hundred years later, Malindi was centre of operations for the Portuguese on the East African coast. Once Fort Jesus was built, Malindi's ruling family was invited to transfer their power base there, which they did, and for many years Malindi was virtually a ghost town as its aristocrats lived it up in Mombasa under Portuguese protection.
Malindi's reputation for hospitality to strangers has stuck, and so has the suggestion of sell-out. As a steadily growing development area for the cultivation of, deutschmarks and lire - and now euros - the town is slipping towards cultural anonymity: it can't seem to make up its mind whether it wants to be a Mombasa or a Lamu. While retaining a Swahili atmosphere, which Mombasa has partly lost in urban development, it utterly lacks Lamu's self-contained tranquillity. Heavily dependent on tourism, the town has gone into decline economically as holiday-makers have turned their sights elsewhere. It's now making great efforts to reverse that trend, starting with a clear-out of the beach boys and hawkers that were such a nuisance to tourists in the past, and aiming to abandon its former dependence on the Italian package-tour market. Nonetheless, although Malindi makes an excellent base for visits to places like Gedi ruins and Arabuko-Sokoke Forest, it remains a town unashamedly geared towards beach tourism.
Consequently, whether you enjoy Malindi or not depends, at least in part, on how highly you rate the unsophisticated parts of Kenya, and whether you appreciate a fully fledged resort town for its facilities or loathe it for its tackiness. And of course it depends on when you're here. During the summer-holiday season (Malindi's best month, sea- and weather-wise, is August), as well as in December and January, the town can sometimes be a bit nightmarish. In a busy high season (and it's a while since Malindi has seen one) everything African seems to recede behind the swarms of window-shopping tourists and Suzuki jeeps. Even so, Malindi at its worst is still relatively placid compared with, say, Spain or the Greek islands, and off season (reduced here to the long rains only - April to June) can seem positively subdued, as if exhausted. At this time of year, when it is often damp and grey, with piles of seaweed washed ashore, Malindi has the air of a south of England beach resort: the faded muddle of an ageing seaside town - garnished with tropical plants. It was opened as a settlers' coastal escape in the 1930s, which in Kenyan terms is a very long time ago, and the last of the sun-wrinkled generation of a bygone era can still be seen walking on Lamu road.
Fortunately, Malindi has some important saving graces. Number one is the coral reef . The combined Malindi/Watamu Marine National Park and Reserve encloses some of the best stretches on the coast. Kisite-Mpunguti, on the south coast, and Kiunga, further north, are reckoned by some connoisseurs to be even better, but the Malindi fish have seen many more strange faces in masks and have become so used to humans that they swarm in front of you like a kaleidoscopic snowstorm. Malindi is also a game-fishing centre with regular competitions, and a bit of a surfing resort, too. Good-sized rollers steam into the bay through the long break in the reef during July and August and in early September, whipped up by the southerly monsoon winds which are likely to get you sand-blasted on the beach.
Despite the heavy reliance on tourism, Malindi still has some interest as a Kenyan town with an ancient history and a few places of interest other than its beach and reef. An interesting old Swahili quarter, one or two "ruins", a busy market, shops, hotelis and plenty of lodgings all compensate for the tourist boutiques, beauty salons and real estate agencies. The fact that Malindi has a broad range of places to stay within walking distance of the beach - and a broad range of places to eat and spend money within walking distance of the hotels - gives it a clear advantage over Watamu, Diani or the places more immediately north of Mombasa. As for the Italian package tourists, they have left the town with something that nowhere else in Kenya can boast: some of the best pizzas, pasta and ice-cream in the whole of Africa.
The best way to get around Malindi and its environs is by bicycle (several places rent bikes - see "Listings"). The flat countryside around Malindi is ideal and Gedi (90min) or Watamu (2hr) are easy objectives, with the guarantee that you'll be blown either there or back by the wind, depending on the time of year. The northern reaches of the wonderful Arabuko-Sokoke Forest are within easy reach too.
The Town
Other than the beach and the sea, strolling around town is the occupation of most of Malindi's temporary residents, and is not without its idiosyncratic rewards. The old part of Malindi is a half-hour diversion: interesting enough, even though there's nothing specific to see and few of the buildings date from before the second half of the nineteenth century. But the juxtaposition of the earnest and ordinary business of the old town with the near-hysterical
mzungu -mania only a couple of minutes' walk away on Lamu Road produces a bizarre, schizophrenic atmosphere that epitomizes Malindi.
The town has an amazingly salacious reputation which is not entirely home-grown. Some European tour operators have in the past been quite inventive in their every-comfort-provided marketing strategies. In the immediate aftermath of the first AIDS-awareness crisis in the late 1980s, there was a massive slump in German tourism to Malindi, but memories are short, it seems; a quick glance at some of the town's bars at night is enough to convince you that the sex safari is back in full swing. Though Germans still come, in recent years Italians have dominated.
Archeologically, Malindi's offerings are scant. The two pillar tombs in front of the Juma (Friday) Mosque on the waterfront are fine upstanding examples of the genre, though the shorter one is only nineteenth century. This being Malindi, its appearance is usually described as "circumcised", though Islamic scholars on the coast tend to dispute the automatic phallic label applied by foreigners.
Malindi's other monuments are Portuguese. Vasco da Gama Pillar (1499), down on the point of the same name, makes a good target for a stroll. The Portuguese Chapel is a tiny whitewashed cube of a church now covered with makuti , whose foundations were laid in the sixteenth century on the site of a Portuguese burial. The most recent Portuguese bequest is the ugly 1959 Monument to Prince Henry the Navigator on the seaward side of Uhuru Gardens. These monuments however contrast uncomfortably with the "Vasco da Gama = Killer" and "Da Gama traitor" graffiti which appeared around town in 1998, on the 500th anniversary of da Gama's arrival in Malindi and which are still visible in some places.
Malindi also has a little zoo called the Falconry (daily 9am-5.30pm; Ksh300), with various birds, snakes, crocodiles and a giant tortoise. The former customs and excise building on the waterfront has been set aside for use as a town museum .