You start in the north, in Samburu and at Lewa, a conservancy that rebuilt its rhino population from almost nothing and now protects one of the most closely monitored populations in Africa.

This is walking country. You go out on foot with guides who have spent twenty years in the field and Samburu trackers who grew up reading this landscape. Tracks in the dust, alarm calls in the trees, a broken branch or a patch of flattened grass. Things most people walk straight past become the clues that tell you what has been here and what might still be nearby.

Then the coast, and everything changes.

Lamu is a UNESCO-listed island with no cars, its coral-rag streets and alleys too narrow for them. You walk, or you go by dhow. In the Old Town, a historian who grew up there takes you through streets shaped by centuries of Swahili, Arab and Indian Ocean trade. Out on the water, you sail the reef on a working boat rather than a tourist one, then come back to food that this coast has been cooking for centuries.

Two very different sides of Kenya, joined by the people who know them best.