Out of Africa—A Literary Pilgrimage by John Greeves Are you one of those people who sees the film, then reads the book, or is it the other way around? For me this particular pilgrimage represented more than a trip to a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong hills. I wanted to find some tonal hues of Africa and combine this with the rich lyricalism I found in Karen Blixen’s book Out of Africa, and discover something of the author herself. sits squarely beside several outbuildings including a separate kitchen block. The house is set in massive lawns with tall trees, shrubs and fragrant flowers with the distant backdrop to the blue knuckles of the Ngong hills stretching out. Inside a blurring of identity exists, between the authentic and the assortment of film paraphernalia. It’s difficult to tell who has prominence here; the former cast of Out of Africa (Robert Redford and Meryl Streep) with their film costumes casually strewn across every room or the rightful occupants Denys Finch Hatton (the bald-headed interloper) and Karen Blixen with her hunting dogs?
I am up at four this morning, probably due to a strange bed and the expectancy of this trip to Karen Blixen’s house. Drawing the curtains back, I see life beyond the tourist bubble- an unbroken line of city workers filing past (from the shanty towns), to their place of work. Nairobi it seems and its people are all early risers; a side of life many privileged outsiders never see.
Separating fiction from fact, in this house, becomes increasingly difficult as I pass from the living room, bedroom, bathroom to the dining room,
After a poolside breakfast and a solitary car trip, I arrive alone at Blixen’s former home. No tourist buses can be seen and I’m fortunate to have the whole place to myself, except for the guide who has arrived early to meet me. The location isn’t what I expected. The farm has gone and suburbia has crept in its outstretched arms. The squat bungalow with a long veranda, - 66 -
