After a smooth five-hour glide on the SGR from Nairobi to Mombasa, I booked a ride and headed to Dodoma Serene Hotel. I’ve been to Mombasa more times than I can count, yet somehow this was my very first night on the island itself. With an early-morning bus to Tanzania waiting for me, it felt right to sleep in a hotel named after the capital of my next destination.
Just kidding—I only realized the hotel’s name after checking in. My Bolt driver recommended it, so maybe the travel gods were already whispering, “Tanzania is calling.” Dodoma Serene’s biggest charm was its location—close enough to the bus pick-up point to let me sleep like someone who wasn’t about to travel at dawn. Honestly, I wasn’t so sure sleeping would happen at all. Maybe I’d just use the room to shower and change. At that point, I was thinking, “Let’s see how the night goes.” Sleep? That was still very much up in the air.
As we crossed the Makupa Bridge, I rolled down the window and let the Indian Ocean breeze rush in, cool and salty, like a proper coastal welcome.
After a refreshing shower, I walked out of the hotel and flagged down a tuk-tuk—those buzzing, three-wheeled characters that seem to know every secret corner of Mombasa. Dinner was at Creek View Café, unhurried and satisfying, before I jumped into yet another tuk-tuk. What followed was entirely unplanned and utterly perfect: an impromptu dive into Mombasa’s nightlife.
The city was dressed for the season. Roundabouts, palm trees, and landmarks sparkled with Christmas lights, as if Mombasa itself was in a celebratory mood. Club-hopping became the order of the night, and in between dance floors, I kept running into familiar Nairobi faces. These were holiday escapees—people on a temporary break from deadlines and alarm clocks—fully committed to the annual end-of-year festivities. Their diaspora brothers and sisters had flown in too, and together they turned the city into one big reunion. Word on the street was that Nyali, across the bridge, was even livelier.
It was that time of the year again—the kind that makes you forget tomorrow and savor the now. I wished it could stretch just a little longer. Or forever. As Richelle E. Goodrich puts it, “The holiday season is like candy. It melts in your mouth slowly and sweetens every taste bud, making you wish it could last forever.” And on that Mombasa night, it truly did.