The Best Way To Get There, I Was Further
Informed, Was By Gharri, Which I Found To Be A
Small Trolley, Having Two Seats Placed Back To Back
Under A Little Canopy And Running On Narrow Rails
Which Are Laid Through The Principal Street Of The
Town.
Accordingly, I secured one of these
vehicles, which are pushed by two strapping
Swahili boys, and was soon flying
Down the track,
which once outside the town lay for the most part
through dense groves of mango, baobab, banana
and palm trees, with here and there brilliantly
coloured creepers hanging in luxuriant festoons
from the branches.
On arrival at Kilindini, I made my way to the
railway Offices and was informed that I should be
stationed inland and should receive further
instructions in the course of a day or two. Meanwhile I
pitched my tent under some shady palms near the
gharri line, and busied myself in exploring the
island and in procuring the stores and the outfit
necessary for a lengthy sojourn up-country. The
town of Mombasa itself naturally occupied most
of my attention. It is supposed to have been
founded about A.D. 1000, but the discovery of
ancient Egyptian idols, and of coins of the early
Persian and Chinese dynasties, goes to show that
it must at different ages have been settled by
people of the very earliest civilisations. Coming
to more modern times, it was held on and off from
1505 to 1729 by the Portuguese, a permanent
memorial of whose occupation remains in the shape
of the grim old fortress, built about 1593 - on the
site, it is believed, of a still older stronghold.
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