Due to my backpack arriving late on New Year’s Day, I decided to eat at my hotel (I’d usually go to a local place but didn’t want to wander an unfamiliar village at night, and when I was already starving).
I’d read that Paje village isn’t somewhere to be wandering alone after dark.
The waiting staff noticed I was inadvertently moving to the music in my seat (the hotel was playing Afrobeats) and started chatting to me. When I went to leave, one of the waiters offered me a free shot of local Cognac. Not being someone to turn down free alcohol, I accepted.
BIG mistake!
After I downed my shot, he offered another. I said no and he suggested we have one together to celebrate the new year. It seemed rude to turn that down, so I accepted.
He then suggested I come to a local bar in the village for another drink and some food.
I politely declined, seeing as I was operating on < four hours’ sleep in 48 hours and wanted to watch sunrise, but he suckered me in – almost as if he knew I love to experience local places.
He told me it was literally three minutes’ walk away; I could come for 20 minutes and have just one drink.
You already know how this ends, right?
We go to the local bar, and are joined by several other members of staff…but all male. I’d been given a local beer to try (I don’t even like beer), and a little of a local dish (think chips IN an omelette) but, once the others showed up, I was repeatedly presented with rounds of shots – cognac and tequila.
They told me they’d all been so busy working NYE that they hadn’t even had time to say ‘Happy New Year’ to each other, so this was their celebration and they really wanted me to help them celebrate.
Seeing as I’d also had two glasses of wine with dinner, by this point I’d ceased being able to make wise choices and so I then found my tipsy ass in a mini bus taxi with the staff members, on my way to some local club.
I think we left the village, but I couldn’t be sure as it’s actually quite large.
We arrive, someone puts a wrist band on me (I have no idea who was paying for all of this), yet another drink is placed in my hand and suddenly I’m clubbing it up at an Afrobeats night.
Both some random local and the waiter who gave me the original shots started hitting on me, but one of the other waiters kept stepping in to get me away.
So when he said he was leaving and did I want him to get me home safe, I said yes.
You may, or may not, know this but I’m terrified of motorbikes… we leave the club and before quite knowing how I got there I’m sandwiched between the motorbike owner and the waiter bumping our way through the deserted village streets at 4am.
Just like in Kenya, the cheapest taxis are boda boda – motorbike taxis.
I can just remember I had my head buried in the back of the guy in front, whilst hoping this thing didn’t topple over!
Fortunately it didn’t, but it did stop in a random part of Paje village that I hadn’t seen before and I felt a stab of panic.
The waiter told me we were outside his house and asked if I’d like to see. As much as I do love to see local homes, and as intoxicated as I was, I was still wary of going to a strange man’s home in the early hours and so I politely declined and the waiter walked me down an alley and back into my hotel via the beach.
By the time I got to my room, the world was a-spinning. I actually slept fully-clothed, missed sunrise and I’m pretty sure I was still drunk at breakfast.
I spent the following day feeling as if I was legit dying. And I never want to see cognac again in my life but it was definitely an experience to add to the books!
P.S. Every time I see Mr Maasai on the beach he now sings the chorus to ‘Macarena’ and does the hand actions. My work here is done!
Grateful for the cats!
Cats deserve the world!