Welcome to Dar Es Salaam

Tanzania
April 17th, 2009

We arrived in good time into the city of Dar. Or so we thought. It was late morning, around 11am on Friday so we presumed we would be able to navigate the city with relative ease. A lesson my friend, presume nothing when in Africa. It took over an hour of maneuvering before reaching our destination- the Sudanese embassy in hopes of acquiring some much sought after information. After parking the car on the pavement we headed inside, following a security guard. We were delivered to what we assumed was a waiting room- a room with lovely burgundy sofas and two other gentlemen sitting down. So we sat. It turns out we weren’t in the waiting room but rather in the company of the officials themselves. We chatted with the gentlemen and discovered what we needed to know.

Glancing at our watches and feeling our stomachs rolling the next stop had to be lunch. We stopped at a busy local café and ate brilliantly while politely declining the offers of watches, sunglasses, pirated DVDs and other bargains. Once finished we jumped back into the car and headed towards Mikadi Beach, our camping spot for the night. Driving along in busy traffic once more, we stopped at a light. Waiting in traffic a young man, a street child grown up, walked past our car. We thought nothing of it. Suddenly he ran back and with tremendous speed and technique he ripped our left side mirror completely off. It took less than thirty seconds. WTF!!! I know. We were completely stunned. I jumped out of the car first but couldn’t see the guy, then Karel jumped out. It was complete reaction no thought process at all. Luckily we were fine and so was the car, besides the mirror.

Deciding we needed to pit stop at Toyota to find a replacement mirror was our next move. No luck. It would take six weeks to order. The manager kindly told us this sort of crime happens all the time. He also said he would try to call around the black market and see if he could get our mirror back for us. No luck. Unfortunately for us, we need the side mirror as we don’t have a rear view mirror due to the steel plate in the car. Driving towards the campsite we decided we would deal with everything once we got back from Zanzibar.

April 24th, 2009

Armed with directions from ex-pats (behind Shoprite there’s a place, look for Shama’s), our point-it picture book and our Swahili phrasebook we set off. We found the place with relative ease. Karel parked and jumped out beginning the search. Finding it difficult due to language barriers we changed our strategy and took a picture of the missing mirror (got to love the digital age). Quickly thereafter we found a place that could help. They said they had another mirror at a different shop and would get it for us. Only fifteen minutes they said. In reality it took about half an hour, but they did return with a mirror that fit. It wasn’t exactly the frost free heated luxury mirror of former, but it did the trick. Whether it was a stolen to order we’ll never know. What we do have now is a strategy- the mirrors have our license number in tip-ex/white-out on them, are double cable tied and in every major town we go through I ensure that I have the Tabbard bug spray handy so if anyone loiters around the car they’ll be sprayed. Watch out F@%$ers!

Swahili for Beginners

Iringa, Tanzania
April 14th, 2009

Entering the border at Tanzania proved to be an expensive experience with the two of us shelling out $50US each for visas and an additional $25 for the car. Once we crossed the border and were driving along the road we were struck by how beautiful the country is. The south has an amazing landscape with thick deep green leafy trees and bushes and rolling hills. Admiring the luscious views we worked our way towards the Old Farm an infamous campsite near Iringa known for its amazing culinary delights. We arrived as it was dark, set up our tent and fell fast asleep.

In the morning we woke up and organized for breakfast. We may have missed the famous dinner but wanted at least a sample. On route to breakfast we met the owner, an amazing woman named Nicky. She brilliantly runs the camping and lodging and manages the farm and has a staff of over 300. After asking a few questions, we decided to stop at the Toyota dealership in Iringa rather than Dar Es Salaam for a few things we needed to get done on the car.

After enjoying our breakfast of fresh bread, eggs, yoghurt, fresh fruit and fantastic coffee we made our way in to town. Finding the Toyota dealership proved to be dead easy given the instructions we received from Nicky. Unfortunately the car couldn’t be looked at that same day and instead we booked an appointment for the following day. We spent the rest of the day wandering around the market and struck by how different Tanzania is from Southern Africa. We were experiencing our first communication complications and stuck easy language had been until now. Stopping for a quick lunch in the market of mostly rice and a few pieces of meat (which actually couldn’t be cut and had to be swallowed whole) we chatted happily as best as we could to the woman running the restaurant who in return for conversation gave us some more lumps of meat (joy!). Following our lunch we went for a Pepsi, yep Pepsi not Coke (we were super surprised). Over our Pepsi we spoke to the owner who taught us our first Swahili. He was a lovely man, very patient and kind and enjoyed sharing his knowledge with us. It was wonderful speaking to a person so proud of their culture and so anxious to share it.

Livingstonia

Malawi
April 12th, 2009

Bidding a rainy farewell from Nkota Bay, we headed further North to Livingstonia. Adding an extra couple to Nessie’s load, Alex and Veera- friends from Chizzy, we made our happy way. The company was great and the drive wasn’t too long, but the last section of the road was extremely steep. This particular section of road had been shut the previous week due to rains and mud slide, but was fine now- well drivable anyways. We set up camp at the Mushroom Farm (a few kms short of Livingstonia) and admired the views of the hills and lake below while enjoying a G&T. I do mean a G&T – there was a whole bottle of gin but only one tonic, we had to make due with soda which worked rather well as the four of us polished off the bottle quite nicely.

The next morning we headed up the final few kms to Livingstonia. Arriving we drove straight to the church, which is the main attraction of the town. Climbing out of the car we headed for the wooden doors. Locked. What? Yes it was locked. Not people to give up we decided to try and find the vicar to open the church for us. The vicar it seems was away in South Africa for a Sunday School meeting. However we did enjoy a tour of the cathedral (set up specifically in a Malaria free area) given by the vicar’s son of twelve. The tour consisted of a pointed out impressive stained glass window, a tour up steep and rackety steeps past the church bell and on to the roof of the church for lovely views, and the back room of the church where meetings are held.

Satisfied with our tour we wandered around town. Feeling hungry we asked two people sitting on the steps of the town department of antiquities (yes I know) where we could eat. They told us we could eat there. Deciding to be forward thinking we thought it best if we ordered our lunch then, so we could wander as meals often take about an hour to prepare. No problems. Order taken and we happily continued to explore. An hour later we returned and waited an additional half an hour. At last the meal was ready. Unfortunately it just wasn’t the meal we ordered. No beef stew only fried chicken- but fried chicken African style with maybe three bites of meat on the poor roadrunners wing. No fair.  Our next stop was to find a bottle shop where we stocked up on beers and an interesting bottle of gin with an illustrated label consisting of a man without hands eating you guessed it, fried chicken.

The final destination of the day was to see the waterfalls nearby. Not exactly sure where to go, we heard some children shouting ‘waterfall’ and stopped. Parking the car we had another tour, this time led by four boys aged 10. Quite cute they led us to the first waterfall, and then to the second. On route to the second though, they decided it was too dangerous but only after we jump crossed some water and navigated some slippery mud. All in all it was a fun couple of days, and we enjoyed your company so much A&V. Thanks for the good times.

All Aboard, Next Stop – Paradise

Cruising the Ilala
Nkota Bay, Malawi
April 5th, 2009

After visiting several of Lake Malawi hotspots (Cape MacClear and Kande Beach) we decided to continue to follow the lake and enjoy the islands. Once a week on Monday, there is a public ferry which departs from Nkota Bay at 8pm and makes its way towards the islands of Chizimulu and Likoma. We decided that on this particular Monday we would be on it. Upon hearing the ferry horn blow and announcing its arrival, we grabbed our backpacks and walked down towards it.

We bought our tickets and then climbed aboard the white ship up a steep wooden plank, which has seen better days. Standing on deck we had a fascinating time people watching. Every possible person you could imagine climbed on board, carrying with them every imaginable item from bananas to TVs to bread rolls to mattresses to boats to well you get the picture. There was a very Titanic feel to the whole thing.

Deciding to get something to eat we entered the ship’s restaurant. The beef stew was nice, but the cockroaches running around were not. With a TV present in the restaurant Karel was hopeful for a DVD especially as there was a Wesley Snipes Chinese illegal pirated collection, but alas it wasn’t to happen. Wandering on the top deck and using our backpacks as pillows we slept for a couple of hours.

At midnight the ferry horn blasted and we gathered our things and were amazed to see the two lifeboats being lowered down. The chaos which followed would have been entertaining if it wasn’t so confusing. Luckily the owner of the backpackers on the first island affectionately known as Chizzy was on board and told us what to do. After several boats left we headed downstairs and navigated ourselves through thick crowds and got on board. One five minute boat trip later and we arrived- paradise.

We spent three nights at Chizzy in a fantastic backpackers, Wakky Retreat, and enjoyed swimming in beautiful waters, snorkeling and wandering around the island. Wanting to visit the other island, Likoma, we took a fishing boat across the waters. Another interesting experience to stay the least. It was a short trip, only about two hours in length, but extremely long in terms of the current and sea sickness feeling factor. However once we arrived all was forgotten. Likoma was much like Chizzy, except the beaches are sandy and the island is bigger. There is also an incredible Cathedral there, the beauty of which was an unexpected surprise. A big recommend if you’re in Malawi.

Unexpected Kindness

Meeting Ernesto, his family and the Head Mistress
Near Cape MacClear, Malawi
March 29th, 2009

We cleared the Zambian and Malawian borders easily mid-day and started driving towards our first destination in Malawi- Cape MacClear on the famous Lake Malawi. It was a long day spent driving in shifts and darkness approached sooner than either of us expected. With the huge population of Malawi and the villages built next to the roadside, as dusk approached we knew we needed to find a place to stay for the night. Soon after we decided we needed to find a place to stay we saw a sign for a school.

Pulling off the main road onto the school grounds we asked a man if it would be alright to stay there for the night. He told us we should ask the Head Mistress and guided us towards her house. I spoke with the Head Mistress and she said it would be fine, but she needed to speak with the others- the others being another well respected teacher Ernesto. All was cleared, we met Ernesto and were told to camp right next to the house.

We unpacked our tent surrounded by a host of children and various adults. Ernesto then invited us into his house. Bringing a flask of herbal tea we entered. We got the seat of honour sitting in comfort on a faded pink loveseat facing the household’s two televisions. The lovely Ernesto, our host, introduced us to his lovely wife and two children. It was an exciting night we were told, as Malawi was playing the Ivory Coast for a place in the World Cup! The atmosphere was incredible as we were surrounded by every person in the village- either camped out on the floor or peering through the house windows. The t.v. had extremely poor reception however and was mostly a series of black and white dots, but one could gather that the Ivory Coast were giants compared to the small Malawian footballers. It was almost painful to watch as in the first few seconds of the match Ivory Coast had already scored! There was a definite David vs Goliath feel to the whole thing.

The next morning we were woken by the school bell and packed our belongings up. Greeted by the Head Mistress, we were told that there was water for us to have a bath and we were thought very unusual indeed when we politely declined. Ernesto was also up, saying he hoped we had a good night’s rest and thanking us for staying with him. He then said he had something for us and went inside his house. Returning outside he presented a beautifully carved dhow (canoe). I was almost in tears thinking of how unexpectedly kind this man and his family are. Our words of thanks didn’t seem to match his actions of kindness. I can only hope that one day we might be able to return the same level of thoughtfulness to someone else.

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatca Gonna Do When They Come From You

Police Stop
Lusaka
March 28th, 2009

After a “restful” stay at ChaChaCha Backpackers (a complete hole- we don’t recommend to anyone) where Karel awoke to hear an ex-pat lovers quarrel (kissing followed by ‘no Murray, no, don’t hit him!’) we ran some errands around Lusaka. Once achieving our objective of obtaining our African yellow card for inclusive third party insurance for East Africa we headed for the hills. Unfortunately before we could successfully leave the city limits we were pulled over by a traditional built Beyonce haired (well not exactly as glamorous, actually it’s probably completely unfair to mention the two in the same sentence, perhaps a “badly wigged braided blonde and red haired extravaganza” is more appropriate) police woman.

We pulled off the main road to the appropriately directed position and waited to hear the news. There was a speed gun on the main road so needless to say I was thinking about what was coming. As we waited Karel was already in the pooper, another bloody speeding fine. The woman approached us and asked for Karel’s liscence and wrote down all our details. Handing over the documents she said something like “Did you know you were speeding? You were doing 72 in a 65 zone. What do you have to say for yourself?”. Karel responded by saying he wasn’t sure how fast he was going, which he didn’t. The police woman replied by saying that we have a fine of 540,000 Kwacha (about $100 US) payable now and that she has a receipt book. I said we don’t have that much money, that’s too much money to carry, and was wondering if I might be able to negotiate us out of this. She immediately dropped the fine to 270,000 Kwacha. Karel and I knew then that something didn’t add up. We said we didn’t have any money, but we would happily go to the police station and pay there. The police woman was stuck explaining that as she has the receipt book the police station wouldn’t be able to accept any money. She then asked us what money we had. Nothing we said. She looked us up and down, wandered around the car and told us we could go, but “next time carry more money, the next police officer won’t be as nice”.

Lord of the Flies

Kafue National Park
Zambia
March 26th, 2009

Our next destination was Kafue, a National Park about 150kms from Victoria Falls. Following our trusted Tracks 4 Africa GPS, we made steady progress on potholed roads which then lead us to a very remote dirt road. We kept checking our route as this particular path was single lane and passed small village after small village. Yep, we were right on track. Steadily steaming along at about 20kms an hour we loved seeing what normal life would be for a rural Zambian. Small huts dotted the roadside along with cyclists. We saw a man riding his bicycle with a live chicken under his arm ready for dinner. We saw a young man with a homemade wooden guitar strumming along with his mates. And we saw loads of children running and playing eager to wave to us. Brilliant.

Time ticked on and we had to set up camp. Judging by the amount of traffic we encountered (none) we pitched the tent right on the road. Hearing the nearby villagers chatting along we wondered if we would have an audience. Inside the tent we planned our escape- waking up at five and packing up just before sunrise. Satisfied with our plans we settled in to reading our books. About half an hour later we heard two bicycles coming down the path. Looking at each other listening and unsure about what to do, we heard the bicycles stop suddenly and the two men chatting animatedly to each other most likely about their near miss of running straight into the back of the vehicle.

The next morning we followed our plan and packed up the tent promptly. High fiving our foresight we were well chuffed. Just before we left, two children came walking past. Expecting them to be interested in us we wondered what they would do. Well, they didn’t do much just walked past as if they see white people camping on their road everyday.

We entered the park early, at about seven in the morning. The scenery was beautiful with thick trees, tall elephant grass and leafy bushes. The most amazing thing was the lake in the park. It was stunning. Crystal clear blue water with huge boulders dotted along the shore set the tone for a peaceful afternoon lunch. We later discovered another part of the lake with dead trees patterning the water. Again it was beautiful. We set up camp there and enjoyed the sunset. Hearing hippos grunting as we slept was the perfect lullaby.

The most memorable moment for this trip was our introduction to the tshe fly. Mother f***er. The flies look peaceful enough, somewhat like a large housefly. The exception is though that they bite, and that bite hurts like hell. Anytime the window or door was open for even a minute they would flock in. Their entrance was followed by either Karel or I (whoever was in the passenger seat) stalking each and every one of them. We stopped counting at how many we killed after several hundred. The scary part about it is that once you have smashed one (sorry for the gory details but the satisfaction about killing one is immense) you see how much blood they have sucked from you.