Tanzania, Zanzibar and Beyond (Hopefully)
It's been a while since the last post, and we've covered a fair bit of land in that time. Where to start?! Well it's 11.47am on Sunday, we're in Nairobi, and we've been up since 5am. Why, you might well ask. Well, we were hoping to be well on our way to Kampala, Uganda, right now, but things haven't quite gone to plan. In fact, we should have arrived in Kampala this morning. Our tour guide only booked us tickets from Dar es Salaam (Tanzania) to Nairobi, when we'd asked for a through ticket to Kampala, and the connecting bus was full (we waited till the last minute, 11.30pm, to find out). So a helpful guy at the bus station took us to a (shabby but passable) hotel by the bus station for the night and promised to help us get a bus first thing this morning. Turns out they too were full, so we've got tickets for tonight's night bus. At least we'll save on a night's accommodation. The bus journey from Dar was a world away from the Moshi-Mombasa experience. We went with Scandinavia, and paid $33 for a 15 hour journey on a modern passenger coach with curtains, head cushions, reclining padded airline seats, music, air conditioning, and were served water, soft drinks and biscuits! We even had movies. Ok so 'The Human Shield', 'American Cyborg Steel Warrior', and some wierd African film 'Baby Guards' weren't exactly must-sees, but the non-animation sequel to the Jungle Book was watchable. Tonight's won't be quite as luxurious, but hopefully will be safe!
It feels like a long time since we said goodbye to our safari group and the big yellow truck, but it was only Friday. Our two weeks in Tanzania saw us exerience the truly awesome Serengeti and Ngorongoro game parks, and some more incredible sunrises and sunsets, as well as our return visit to Marangu at the foot of Kilimanjaro. This time, the weather was with us: the views of the snow-capped summit were striking as we drove through Moshi. Inevitably, conversation returned to the subject of the climb, and I realised that I am quite disappointed that I didn't make it to the very top. Before and even during the climb, I think fear that I wouldn't make it because of AMS meant that I lacked real determination and desire to get to Uhuru. But now, a mild sense of failure has developed and preyed on my mind, and, being there again, I felt the need to prove to myself that I can do it, that, if I wear enough warm clothes and a more comfortable rucksack, I'd have no excuse not to get to the top. Having two nights at Marangu meant a welcome break from the confinement of the truck, so we enjoyed a wander into town, and chatted to some of the people we'd met on our previous stay. I went for a run, woohoo! It was uphill, so a bit intense even for me, and I was stared at a lot, but I felt so much better for it. A game of ultimate frisbee the same day pretty much wiped me out! Gitonga and Goodluck also made the most of their free time, spending a whole day in the bar getting totally sloshed on Guinness. Goodluck was too drunk to cook, so we had to do it ourselves, and we could taste the difference. Crunchy rice and soggy vegetables were not quite up to his standards! Again, the green wholesomeness of Marangu contrasted with the harsh yet striking scenery of the dry Serengeti plains. Again, the night skies, bright with millions of stars, the smear of the Milky Way as clear as the view of Kilimanjaro in daylight, was unbelievable.
We spent the last week on Zanzibar. For 3 nights we stayed in beach bungalows with real beds! Four poster mosquito-net beds! (Although I did find a small scorpion in mine...) No more putting up and putting down tents every morning and night. No more cooking. No more ridiculously early mornings. The beaches on Zanzibar are beautiful: much like Mombasa, with soft white sand, pale turquoise water, and lined with coconut palms. But better than Mombasa: being on the west coast, sheltered from the rougher currents of the Indian Ocean, the sea was perfectly still and clear. Paradise! Life centred around the Bikini Beach Bar (drinking and dancing with people from all over the world, as well as the locals) and the volleyball net. I still have bruises.
We weren't totally lazy though. As soon as we arrived on the ferry, we did the 'spice tour', a variation of which every even vaguely interested Zanzibar tourist experiences. This included a tour of Stone Town, the old coastal town of Zanzibar oozing with Arabic flavour and the influence of Islam. Inland, it is advised to dress conservatively by covering knees and shoulders so as not to offend the Muslim residents. Thankfully, it wasn't too hot. Beautifully carved wooden doorways and white mosque-like buildings along narrow alleyways give a magical timeless character to the place, especially at sunset and sunrise when the eerie call to prayer resounded in the streets. We visited the fort and the former slave holdings preserved as a reminder of the cruelty of conquest (cramped, low-ceilinged underground dungeons in which many of the slaves waiting to be sold died due to the awful conditions), as well as the first Christian church built on the centre of the former slave market. Monuments to the sufferings of the shackled Africans create a real sense of the history that took place. The spice tour itself kicked off with a delicious 'spicy meal'. Thankfully it was spicy only in the loosest sense - our rice and curry was flavoured with cinnamon, cardamom, cumin, coriandor and more, the chilli was strictly optional. We then visited a Zanzibar plantation, to see how the spices are grown, which was really cool - especially seeing boys climb giant bent coconut palms to pick the fruit. It's strange to see fresh cloves and pepper and the fruit of nutmeg, rather than the dried or powdered stuff we get in England. The boys wove bags, hats and jewellry from the leaves of banana trees for us, which we've still got. They're supposed to last a month, but I'm not so sure they'll survive so long in my rucksack.
The next day was snorkelling, off an unspoilt (and private) island about two hours away from the beach we were staying at. We sailed there on a dhow, but unfortunately it was a motorised version of the traditional Zanzibarian wooden sailboat, so not so authentic! I think I'm over my fish phobia, sort of - the water was really clear and the coral reef was amazing - we saw bright blue, yellow and black-and-white stripey fish, just like in Finding Nemo, as well as long thin trumpet fish, sea urchins and starfish, right in front of our masks. I also swallowed a bit too much sea water. The following day, despite many times thinking that maybe I should wimp out, I went scuba diving. It was fantastic! In the morning, we watched some cheesy teaching videos in the dive centre (run by expats) before having a trial run in the shallow water on the beach, decked out in wetsuits, weights and the scuba breathing gear. It was really strange at first, breathing under water. I scoffed when advised beforehand that the most important thing was to remember to keep breathing, but you really do have to make a conscious effort not to hold your breath. You have to breathe deeply and quite hard to force the air through the valve and out through your mouth against the water, and the exhaled air bubbles shudder against your face mask; it's quite disconcerting, and I did a bit of hyperventilating. The visibility was poor in the shallows too, with all the sand we kicked around getting used to our flippers. I was seriously considering backing out of the real dive in the afternoon, as I was a bit unsure about how I'd cope being unable to resurface if I panicked. And what if a big fish came swimming at me?! But my dive buddy Cat would have been alone without me so I just kind of went along with it. And it was so worth it! It was scary at first, and I had trouble equalising the pressure in my ears, but being amongst the fish on the reef 10 metres beneathe the surface was incredible. I saw a turtle only a foot away, as well as a stingray and a lionfish. Very cool!
It rained on my only pure beach day, which was a bit disappointing. In fact, it pissed it down. Played a bit of pool, footy, went for a quick swim and buried Carlos in the sand to pass the time. Our journey back from Zanzibar was a lot more interesting than our journey there. The road was pretty bad - more potholes than actual road, but we were pretty used to this by now - but the ferry was incredible. Fortunately, I'd taken a travel sickness tablet, and had dished them out. Tash had decided she'd be ok. How wrong she was. The sea was as choppy as I've ever been on, and it was only a small ferry. You pay good money for a ride like that at the theme parks. It really was like being on the Big Dipper, or the Pirate Ship. People were spewing everywhere. I was sat on the deck, where the air was fresh, salty and very wet. But getting soaked and cold was preferable to sitting down below, where fear and vomit could be clearly smelt and heard. Poor Tash had her head in a bucket the whole two-hour journey. I have to admit to laughing quite a lot at the misfortune of others on top - and at Kooz, who sat, like those on either side of him, with his head down in his lap. But whilst they were chundering, he was reading his book, oblivious. Dazed and damp after the crossing, we said our goodbyes to the group.
So here we are. As you can tell, we've got a lot of time on our hands today. Not that Nairobi is uninteresting. We witnessed a man being hurled to the ground and kicked and beaten with glass bottles at 9am this morning. On our last visit, we drove past a scene that will long be branded in my memory. About fifty people were gathered on a verge by the main road, looking up into a tree. The figure of a man, perhaps 35 in t-shirt and chinos, hung motionless from a branch, a noose around his neck. Probably suicide, Gitonga concluded, out of desperation at life. On a brighter note, walking the city people frequently stop to talk to us, usually trying to sell us a safari but often just being friendly. Wandering round the market, full of carvings, artwork and jewellry as well as fresh meat and veg, was a morning out in itself. But we're getting to know Nairobi pretty well by now; we've spent more time here, a destination that most people recommend getting out of as soon as possible, than any other place we've been to so far.
Right, off to lunch.
It feels like a long time since we said goodbye to our safari group and the big yellow truck, but it was only Friday. Our two weeks in Tanzania saw us exerience the truly awesome Serengeti and Ngorongoro game parks, and some more incredible sunrises and sunsets, as well as our return visit to Marangu at the foot of Kilimanjaro. This time, the weather was with us: the views of the snow-capped summit were striking as we drove through Moshi. Inevitably, conversation returned to the subject of the climb, and I realised that I am quite disappointed that I didn't make it to the very top. Before and even during the climb, I think fear that I wouldn't make it because of AMS meant that I lacked real determination and desire to get to Uhuru. But now, a mild sense of failure has developed and preyed on my mind, and, being there again, I felt the need to prove to myself that I can do it, that, if I wear enough warm clothes and a more comfortable rucksack, I'd have no excuse not to get to the top. Having two nights at Marangu meant a welcome break from the confinement of the truck, so we enjoyed a wander into town, and chatted to some of the people we'd met on our previous stay. I went for a run, woohoo! It was uphill, so a bit intense even for me, and I was stared at a lot, but I felt so much better for it. A game of ultimate frisbee the same day pretty much wiped me out! Gitonga and Goodluck also made the most of their free time, spending a whole day in the bar getting totally sloshed on Guinness. Goodluck was too drunk to cook, so we had to do it ourselves, and we could taste the difference. Crunchy rice and soggy vegetables were not quite up to his standards! Again, the green wholesomeness of Marangu contrasted with the harsh yet striking scenery of the dry Serengeti plains. Again, the night skies, bright with millions of stars, the smear of the Milky Way as clear as the view of Kilimanjaro in daylight, was unbelievable.
We spent the last week on Zanzibar. For 3 nights we stayed in beach bungalows with real beds! Four poster mosquito-net beds! (Although I did find a small scorpion in mine...) No more putting up and putting down tents every morning and night. No more cooking. No more ridiculously early mornings. The beaches on Zanzibar are beautiful: much like Mombasa, with soft white sand, pale turquoise water, and lined with coconut palms. But better than Mombasa: being on the west coast, sheltered from the rougher currents of the Indian Ocean, the sea was perfectly still and clear. Paradise! Life centred around the Bikini Beach Bar (drinking and dancing with people from all over the world, as well as the locals) and the volleyball net. I still have bruises.
We weren't totally lazy though. As soon as we arrived on the ferry, we did the 'spice tour', a variation of which every even vaguely interested Zanzibar tourist experiences. This included a tour of Stone Town, the old coastal town of Zanzibar oozing with Arabic flavour and the influence of Islam. Inland, it is advised to dress conservatively by covering knees and shoulders so as not to offend the Muslim residents. Thankfully, it wasn't too hot. Beautifully carved wooden doorways and white mosque-like buildings along narrow alleyways give a magical timeless character to the place, especially at sunset and sunrise when the eerie call to prayer resounded in the streets. We visited the fort and the former slave holdings preserved as a reminder of the cruelty of conquest (cramped, low-ceilinged underground dungeons in which many of the slaves waiting to be sold died due to the awful conditions), as well as the first Christian church built on the centre of the former slave market. Monuments to the sufferings of the shackled Africans create a real sense of the history that took place. The spice tour itself kicked off with a delicious 'spicy meal'. Thankfully it was spicy only in the loosest sense - our rice and curry was flavoured with cinnamon, cardamom, cumin, coriandor and more, the chilli was strictly optional. We then visited a Zanzibar plantation, to see how the spices are grown, which was really cool - especially seeing boys climb giant bent coconut palms to pick the fruit. It's strange to see fresh cloves and pepper and the fruit of nutmeg, rather than the dried or powdered stuff we get in England. The boys wove bags, hats and jewellry from the leaves of banana trees for us, which we've still got. They're supposed to last a month, but I'm not so sure they'll survive so long in my rucksack.
The next day was snorkelling, off an unspoilt (and private) island about two hours away from the beach we were staying at. We sailed there on a dhow, but unfortunately it was a motorised version of the traditional Zanzibarian wooden sailboat, so not so authentic! I think I'm over my fish phobia, sort of - the water was really clear and the coral reef was amazing - we saw bright blue, yellow and black-and-white stripey fish, just like in Finding Nemo, as well as long thin trumpet fish, sea urchins and starfish, right in front of our masks. I also swallowed a bit too much sea water. The following day, despite many times thinking that maybe I should wimp out, I went scuba diving. It was fantastic! In the morning, we watched some cheesy teaching videos in the dive centre (run by expats) before having a trial run in the shallow water on the beach, decked out in wetsuits, weights and the scuba breathing gear. It was really strange at first, breathing under water. I scoffed when advised beforehand that the most important thing was to remember to keep breathing, but you really do have to make a conscious effort not to hold your breath. You have to breathe deeply and quite hard to force the air through the valve and out through your mouth against the water, and the exhaled air bubbles shudder against your face mask; it's quite disconcerting, and I did a bit of hyperventilating. The visibility was poor in the shallows too, with all the sand we kicked around getting used to our flippers. I was seriously considering backing out of the real dive in the afternoon, as I was a bit unsure about how I'd cope being unable to resurface if I panicked. And what if a big fish came swimming at me?! But my dive buddy Cat would have been alone without me so I just kind of went along with it. And it was so worth it! It was scary at first, and I had trouble equalising the pressure in my ears, but being amongst the fish on the reef 10 metres beneathe the surface was incredible. I saw a turtle only a foot away, as well as a stingray and a lionfish. Very cool!
It rained on my only pure beach day, which was a bit disappointing. In fact, it pissed it down. Played a bit of pool, footy, went for a quick swim and buried Carlos in the sand to pass the time. Our journey back from Zanzibar was a lot more interesting than our journey there. The road was pretty bad - more potholes than actual road, but we were pretty used to this by now - but the ferry was incredible. Fortunately, I'd taken a travel sickness tablet, and had dished them out. Tash had decided she'd be ok. How wrong she was. The sea was as choppy as I've ever been on, and it was only a small ferry. You pay good money for a ride like that at the theme parks. It really was like being on the Big Dipper, or the Pirate Ship. People were spewing everywhere. I was sat on the deck, where the air was fresh, salty and very wet. But getting soaked and cold was preferable to sitting down below, where fear and vomit could be clearly smelt and heard. Poor Tash had her head in a bucket the whole two-hour journey. I have to admit to laughing quite a lot at the misfortune of others on top - and at Kooz, who sat, like those on either side of him, with his head down in his lap. But whilst they were chundering, he was reading his book, oblivious. Dazed and damp after the crossing, we said our goodbyes to the group.
So here we are. As you can tell, we've got a lot of time on our hands today. Not that Nairobi is uninteresting. We witnessed a man being hurled to the ground and kicked and beaten with glass bottles at 9am this morning. On our last visit, we drove past a scene that will long be branded in my memory. About fifty people were gathered on a verge by the main road, looking up into a tree. The figure of a man, perhaps 35 in t-shirt and chinos, hung motionless from a branch, a noose around his neck. Probably suicide, Gitonga concluded, out of desperation at life. On a brighter note, walking the city people frequently stop to talk to us, usually trying to sell us a safari but often just being friendly. Wandering round the market, full of carvings, artwork and jewellry as well as fresh meat and veg, was a morning out in itself. But we're getting to know Nairobi pretty well by now; we've spent more time here, a destination that most people recommend getting out of as soon as possible, than any other place we've been to so far.
Right, off to lunch.
posted by Lucy at
10:38 am
