6 – 9 OCTOBER 2011

MUSANZE (formerly Ruhengeri), KIGALI

GORILLAS IN THE MIST

 Travelling to Musanze, the gateway town to Parc National des Vulcans the day before my trek which it is only two hours away, the bus was easy to find, easy to board and leaves on time, the road is excellent and the scenery stunning with verdant hills all being cultivated to the tippy tip top of each one. It’s raining when we arrive and I check in at the Tourist Rest House to contact Dakin there who is running a Peace Club and a Girl Guide member.

the short, but heavy rains

I thought we arranged to meet at the Fatima Centre and amidst another massive downpour (a long short rain perhaps?) I wait and wait and exchange many sms to ascertain that she is still coming and is only minutes away. After waiting nearly two hours I give up and return to dry off and ponder the state of the mountains tomorrow after all this rain. Tonight I realise I have left my head torch at the Kigala hotel – bugger. Try ringing but telephone number on receipt is not connected. I ring Ange and ask if she has time, to call in and collect on my behalf? She will try. This afternoon I have to try and find transport to Kinigi in the morning and after trying a few hotels in town and leaving my number jic, I decide there are no tourists here. I get a quote of $80 from a local driver so I eventually try ORTPN who tell me they have a car going tomorrow morning to transport some hikers already at Kinigi.

Volcanos in the distance

I ask if it’s possible I could get a lift in the car – he asks if I could take a bad $5 note that he obviously cannot cash and we both agree ‘it’s possible’. The suggested price is $15 and I will be picked up at my lodge 6am tomorrow  YEEAAHHH !

I pay a visit the Gorrila Information Resource Centre and read up on lots of information about Dian Fossey and her experiences at this park, including disproving the ‘savage’ reputation that the wild gorillas  had. She was murdered, presumably by poachers in 1985 but has been immortalised by the film Gorillas in the Mist.

I learn a lot from DiGit news, www.gorillas.org including how at risk the habituated gorilla families are form human respiratory diseases.

It also reported that research is showing an increase in the mountain gorilla populations now at 480 , an increase of 100 since the 2003 count and double the amount recorded in Dian Fossey’s first census in the 19602. With the numbers in Bwindi and  DR Congo, this puts the population at 786!! I also read about measures being introduced to discourage determined silverback gorillas from invading/destroying local lands and crops as this annoys the farmers and puts the gorillas at risk.  All in all a great visit and I am really looking forward to my visit tomorrow with hope that I will see a mountain gorilla safe in its own habitat.

This gorilla liked my rain poncho

Early wake up because I am so excited – and then think I have the wrong time and have missed my lift because it is so light outside? I ask someone the time am told 6.15am, argh have I missed the lift? Telephoning Jason at ORTPN, who reassures me and soon enough the car arrives and I am very relieved not to have ‘done my dough’ because there is no refund on a no show for the trek. On the way the driver explains that because of the hikers that he may not be able to come back for me until late – I should try and find a lift back if I can. But I can please pay him half the money now – which is what I had planned to do anyway. We arrive at Virungas Park HQ, and its very peaceful there before the other muzungus turn up with their tour groups. I approach some tour guides who are all chatting together and explain that because I am independent that I am looking to join a group to get to the car park.

The Peregrine guide says they have 6 and can take me in their group and I thought we successfully communicated this to the ranger but alas when groups are sorted, Peregrine have been allocated another couple. There is a group of six – 4 UN staff from Arusha (working on the Genocide trials) and a couple from US/UK. The couple have a 4wd so they take the Guide and myself. The road to the trail head is appalling – local kids are all waving along the way to the muzungus in the 4wds dashing past them in their bare feet and rag clothes. At the car park we meet up with our armed guard to walk to the edge of the forest where we will then find out how far away the gorillas are. Here at Virunga there are gorilla trackers who head out each day to find the gorillas that have usually only moved within a kilometre or two from where they were previously the day before. We are visiting the Amahoro Group/ Family—Amahoro meaning peaceful has 17 members led by the peaceful Silverback Ubumwe.We are told that Amahoro is a more strenuous group to access compared to Group 13 or Sabyinyo.

MUD MUD MUD               GORILLAS GORILLAS GORILLAS

Onwards and upwards on the muddiest track I have ever walked. This is no walk in the park even if there is a semblance of track to follow. As I stepped, the mud rose over the top of my boot and as I walked, I was pulling each foot out of the ooze hoping not to leave the boot in it! Ahead the guard was hacking away with his machete, at the undergrowth of the forest to vaguely clear the way for us. So for an hour and a half we traipsed, ducked, slid and marched slowly up the volcano to get nearer the silverbacks.  Our guide is in contact with the tracker and soon we are in hearing distance of his hoots. We leave our bags and walking sticks in a pile and only take cameras and raincoats with us to be nearer the family. I hear rustling and soon spot a young gorilla who sizes us up while cameras are madly clicking away.

It soon sidles up to me to tug at my poncho and the guide eases it away, whilst I am so thrilled to be so close that I have to resist picking it up for a cuddle! As we step away we notice more of the family about us. There are a couple of nursing mums, the alpha male silverback lounging away on a nest in the sun

Our hour is soon over and we slip and slide and battle though the hacked undergrowth of bamboo back down the volcano. Have I mentioned the pouring rain? It is very hard going and I am typically awkward especially with the slippery, muddy track. Eventually we reach the edge of the park, cross the trench dug to discourage the animals from wandering into local fields and I topple down over the volcanic rocks very slowly, with each limb landing one at a time ending with my head – It’s a bad feeling knowing that your head is about to hit rocks and you don’t have a hand to save it.

I was very lucky not to be badly hurt and assure the guide that I have no fractures – I bet they were grateful they didn’t have to haul me out! Lol Even though we were off the volcano by then we still have some pretty muddy paths to get through across the fields to the car. One by one we all succumb to the muddy paths and Carol slips hard making her very dizzy with the pain from her fall. I slip again in the mud and upon being hauled up a second time, the guide says ‘what is that’ pointing to a huge swelling on my arm as big as egg!!

OMG I have never seen such a thing and wonder if I have been bitten – the guide says ‘no problem, if it does not hurt its ok – it’s a contusion.’ I place a VERY firm pressure on it, wishing this lump away with great success. By the time we make it back to the cars the bruising is coming out and the lump is much diminished. However closer inspection of my legs shows another couple of contusions coming up on each shin along with some beautiful bruising. I show them to the driver who immediately feels sorry for me and insists that he can drive meal the way back to Muzanse after dropping his clients off at their hotel. I chat with them on the way back – it is Eric’s second time to trek the gorillas and they have climbed Kilimanjaro and did a safari in the Masai Mara. I wonder at the state of the roads up here at the villages and wonder if some of the minimum US$20,000 earned a day from the gorillas couldn’t be ploughed back into the local villages. Eric authoritively tells me that Rwanda doesn’t have a budget and relies on foreign aid. He says that money is used to build schools and clinics for the local villages. I didn’t like to argue cause they were giving me a lift but I still think that once you build a school and a clinic they are finished and you could go on and build a decent road?  After dropping Carol and Eric at their lovely 5star lodge to rest by their private open fire, I get driven back to Musanze for which I am grateful of the lift and pay the driver the equivalent of $15 and he’s pretty pleased with that.
I wash mud from everything I have worn including my boots which are caked thick with the stuff. After an hour or so of washing, rinsing and wringing I think I have conquered the mountain’s mud, nursed my wounds and bruises along with displaying them to the lodge staff who are ‘very sorry’! Feeling somewhat presentable I telephone Clementine of the Musanze Girl Guides to arrange to visit the Region office. The local moto taxi says he knows where to go, but of course he doesn’t, so after many stops, starts and useless directions I make another call and Clementine explains where she is – on the main road of course and we have already ridden past it!! I am warmly welcomed and shown around 2 rooms set up – one with knitting machines and the other with many, many sewing machines. They are producing knitted goods like scarves and school jumpers which are very popular hereabouts. I am invited to return tomorrow to meet the Guides which I eagerly accept. Wandering around town looking for dinner, I now firmly believe that Musanze just may be the Buffet capital of the world! All restaurants serve buffets – all the same foods and it doesn’t change between lunch and dinner. But checking out the market, passionfruit are in season, which make a yum addition to bananas.

A tennis club!!

Next day I decide to rest up my bruises, walking around town to sight two entcourt*** courts complete with clubhouse and gardens planted with roses. I settle down on the seats to watch some talented lads play tennis at the first tennis courts I have seen in all of Africa! I’m meeting Clementine and the Guides at 11am – Clementine rings to say can we make it treize – 1300 – 1pm. I detour to tourist hotel for some lunch and spend an hour or so sorting out my ebook reader’s ‘collections’. Time passes soon enough and I continue walking to the Guides, where a lovely young Guide appears to guide me to Clementine’s home where I meet her husband, check out family and Guiding photos and eat a second (albeit small) lunch. The Guides turn up and we head off to a local cave that I suspect may be part of a greater Musanze Cave complex that forms part of the Albertine Rift Valley. 

Of course we attract much attention – the muzungu and girls wandering the highway on a lovely sunny day.  I teach the girls a couple of songs - ‘Everywhere we go’ and ‘Ram Sam Sam’ which they pick up quickly and seem to enjoy.  We get ‘snapped’ by a local photographer and walking back into Musanze some of the girls run ahead ‘because she is hungry’. Walking around I could not help but notice that there seems to be many more armed military on each street corner here – when I asked Clementine about it, she laughed it off saying that ‘we are scared in case we have another genocide.’ Despite an outward appearance of calm, I feel that Rwanda may still be a fragile country. Someone else also referred to this saying “there are many people over the border in DRC who think that the ‘job’ (genocide) is not finished”.

We return to Clementine’s home where her son who has the house key has not returned. We wait out front and I teach them an easy game, the key turns up and the girls eat the remains of lunch. Clementine’s sister turns up to tell her that her very young daughter was locked in the house – everyone forgot about her being put to bed and left her alone for several hours!

Fields of pyrethum daisy

They all found this quite funny but I was really shocked because I witnessed the girl being put to bed and I didn’t give her moment’s thought either! Clementine gets stuck into her sorghum bee and is very insistent that I should return to Rwanda with my husband next year in August for a catholic ceremony of some sort for her children. She declares “I invite you!”  I tell her I will do my best but feel very lousy because I feel there is no way I could ever make it back here then even though if I could, I would. After singing and dancing together the girls and Clementine walk me back to the main road and I am encouraged to pick a gift and when I decline they pick out a scarf for me because ‘it can get cold in Kenya’.

Next day I make a day trip to Gisenyi, on Lake Kivu on the DRC border, only 60kms away from Musanze on another good road with fantastic scenery all the way. Lake Kivu is estimated at being one to five million years old (you’d think someone could have a nearer estimation that that?), with a depth of 485m! On a lovely sunny day waves are lapping at the shore which is bordered by fantastic gardens and tree lined roads. It’s Sunday so everyone is about, either walking to or from church or basking by the beach here. However this lake also has an interesting side to it – not only was it used a dumping ground for many, many bodies during the genocide – it is also one of only three lakes (the other two are in Cameroon) that experience limnic eruptions!  Apparently rare, this event is caused by carbon dioxide suddenly erupting from the depths of the lake and gathering into a deadly cloud on its surface causing death to animals and humans alike!

Not today though as the current water pressure is twice that of the gas pressure and that methane is being utilised for electricity production. It’s the weekend and lots of folk out enjoying the beaches and parks here on the lake.  I walk the shores and take a short cut through a large hotel, ending up at their deliveries gate where I was told that ‘guests are not allowed to exit this gate’. I try reasoning with the two security guards that am not a guest, have taken a shortcut and want to pass through their gate to the road beyond. ‘NO, not possible, guests cannot come out this gate.’

No thatched roofing here in Rwanda!!

Sometimes Africa is soooo frustrating – they have been told what to do and they cannot think past it. Again I try explaining and hit a wall – they even take out their cell phones wondering who to call because this mzungu wants to go out the gate! In the end I walk past them both, push the gate open and pass through closing the gate behind me. Believe it or not, we are all happy –me because I got through and them because they ‘did not let me pass’, as per their instructions. How I got through was not their concern – they can’t lose their jobs for what a mzungu chooses to do, can they?  I find the Bikini Tam-Tam Bar and Restaurant – what a name and spend a lovely few hours relaxing and reading Little Women by the lake in lovely sunshine. It’s an easy trip back to Musanze and next day I take another scenic drive back to the capital, Kigali in the hope of retrieving my head torch.

Abundant produce - carrots

Arriving at the bus park, I buy a ticket for Uganda with a departure at midday, leave my pack at the office and get a moto to Auberge la Caverne to retrieve my torch. The staff tell me that someone came and picked up my torch on Saturday – Ange says they should have got a receipt and they must be keeping it. Ah well if someone else liked my torch more than I, so be it – the trip back to the capital was no great hardship and if anything very pleasant and I’ll have efficient transport from here to across this border as opposed to my earlier the alternative of local cars on back roads.

NOTE: The current government, Paul Kagame’s RPF won 93% of the vote in the August 2010 election, the second poll since ‘Divisionism’ legislation was implemented in 2002. This law provides hefty prison terms and fines for sowing discord between Hutus and Tutsis, but detractors cite the legislation as vague and being used by the current government to suppress political dissent and opposition. 

3 – 5 OCTOBER 2011

RWANDA – Country number 21 – RWANDA

KIGALI

Waving farewell to my new truckie friends at the border car park, I cross the frontier bridge by foot and with my visa have no problems getting stamped in. Conveniently there are forex currency bureaus here at the border, along with a waiting coaster bus that is filling to go to Kigali. We leave within the hour and after two hours and many more fabulous hills later we arrive at the outskirts of Kigali which is built on more hills. Whose bright idea was it to build a city on hills? And I have to mention that these are not small hills either! This makes every street either going up or down a hill – there is no level ground areas unless created by concrete!!  

This gorilla is telephoning the world to tell them of the genocide.

SERIOUSLY

Arriving at the bus station, I take a moto taxi to the Auberge La Caverne, check into an ok room and head straight into town to pay a visit to ORTPN, the issuer of all Gorilla Trek permits in Parc de Vulcans. Now popular advice tells travellers that they should book a gorilla trek permit months in advance as the demand is so great. But of course those who know me will not be surprised that I just try my luck as I have a week to spare so can afford a few days I ask for a permit for Friday, my first preference  and get it, no problems and yes they take plastic for the US$500 payment!! This is fantastic (if expensive) and I leave ORTPN with a huge smile on my face and a gorilla trek permit in my pocket.  Walking about the small centre of town is either uphill or downhill and I make a big effort to walk everywhere in anticipation of the volcano hike on Friday. Next morning I head out to the Kenyan Embassy to enquire about visas. Multiple entry visa please? “No, not available. Single entry only.” I explain my travel plans that include an entry from Uganda and another entry from Madagascar four weeks later. “That’s ok – you get a visa each time, $50 and $50.” Could I get a multiple entry visa in Kampala? “No.” I try again, “But you used to have multiple entry visas?” “Yes, but we don’t have the stickers for them anymore.” Aha, the ol’ sticker problem again… I suggest that perhaps they could use a single entry visa sticker and annotate it? “No, that would not be possible.” 

The infamous Hotel Rwanda

 I then ask if perhaps the border may have multiple entry visas – you know, less demand  and maybe there are still a few older stickers left in a drawer somewhere – you can try she tells me. Oh well, no success but that’s one less job for Kampala anyway.

Not too many sights here in Kigali – the highlight if you can call it that, is the Kigali Memorial Centre. And what can I tell you other than it is a lovely memorial to an absolutely tragic genocide with this very sad story told within the parameters of other world genocides. 

Peaceful now...

A few of the thousand hills in the distance

 The centre was established by www.aegistrust.org and is well thought out, even to the unmarked, mass graves here that are still being added to with an established rose garden to supply roses that are sold to visitors who wish to leave them at these graves. There is plenty of background evidence provided to adequately explain how this genocide was planned and ruthlessly carried out with numbers of deaths estimated at nearly two million people from the population of 7 million. And over 3 months the world stood back and watched.  I learnt that the division of tribes was formalised by the Belgium colonialists with the introduction of identity cards: A Tutsi owned more than 10 cattle, a Hutu less than 10 cattle and the remainder classified as Batwa (pygmy).  The country’s media was manipulated and used in the lead up to the genocide to cement suspicion and ill feeling but most did not suspect what was being plotted and were unbelieving at how ruthlessly and efficiently it was carried out. There are video recordings of survivors telling of their continuing traumas including one fact that really stood out for me: women were raped by HIV + men who were identified after the genocide to stand trial at the War Crimes court in Arusha, Tanzania.

There these men received ARV treatment but for the raped and infected victims left in Rwanda, there was no such luxury.  www.kigalimemorialcentre.org  The final room is a lovely tribute by surviving parents and families to their innocent children who fell victim to the human carnage with photos and accounts of their interests, talents and even their favourite foods.  After the genocide, Rwanda’s former districts were abolished and the country was divided into four districts – east, west, north and south along with many major towns being renamed in an effort to abolish any past perceived land divisions.

There are two further memorials to the genocide: churches in Ntarama and Nyamata on the outskirts of Kigali that I decide not to visit. During the genocide hundreds of people fled to these churches for shelter but all victims were indiscriminately killed. In one case it was the priest who alerted the Interahamwe militia to their presence and abetted his parish’s death!! According to the blurbs, bones and skulls are left on display and personal belongings left after the bodies were removed are a testimony to the genocide for anyone who may deny its occurrence. As an aside, many of the designers and instigators of this genocide fled into exile and remain out of reach today in Kenya, Cameroon and DRC Congo.

Every road is either uphill or downhill here

I have discovered free wifi at the Bourbon coffee shop so after lunch there, I visit the Girl Guide headquarters and am warmly welcomed by staff there including Ange, Pascaline, Laurence and Alexia the Chief Commissioner. They have a fab headquarters including a couple of rooms for accommodation. I check out Centenary celebration photos and am presented with a scarf woggle and earrings that are hand made. I also hear how they are tackling that age old acorn of deteriorating premises and little money to repair.  But in the meantime assests are put to good use including a nursery school of local parents.

working fountains, manicured gardens, what the??

I spend the rest of the afternoon searching for gardening gloves to wear on my gorilla trek- the advice is that there are nettles on the mountain. Not an easy task but I find a pair of mercerised rubber gloves that are way too big but might do the trick. I make sure my camera is charged with lots of room on the memory card and cannot wait to head east on Thursday, towards the Congo border which is where the gorillas live.

NOTE: More than 17 years after the 100 day Rwandan genocide, that resulted in the deaths of over 800,000 Tutsis (85% of the Tutsi population) and moderate Hutus, the Rwanda Demobilization and Reintegration Commission (RDRC) has been established as a step home for those who fled to the DRC militia at that time. Mutobo is a half way house between war and peace where over 90000 ex combatants have been processed since 2001 as part of the reintegration of armed militia members from the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) into Rwandan society. Many of the thousands had not been home since the 1994 genocide. Every ex-combatant including from the FDLR, DRC army, defunct FAR and Mai-Mai militias is required to go through the RDRC to become a civilian, a compulsory rite of passage in post-genocide Rwanda.  As well as a psychological demobilization, the reintegration package participants must have ‘elaborated a small business project’ by the time they leave, receive US$100 towards it and assistance with medical fees. However there are some civilians trying to disguise themselves as ex-combatants to be eligible for the Mutobo program which has now implemented screening followed by ‘fine screening’ to separate three of every 10 potential clients, who hoped to sneak into the programme under false pretences. 

1 - 3 OCTOBER 2011

LAKE VICTORIA

Travelling north of the Serengati’s western corridor and the Grumetti River, it is lovely countryside with fantastic views right across the plains. I chat with three Masai on board the bus, who are headed to west Serengeti for work. We arrive at Musoma around 6pm, luggage is unloaded from the bus and Juro finds his pack has been soaked right through. Mine is a little muddy but not too bad considering. Immediately a local lass spots me, takes a shine to me and insists on taking me to wherever I want to go! We try the Stigma hotel, where Juro immediately takes flight because he can’t afford $12. I can, so up the stairs to dump my pack and head back out with my new friend to the bus company where she enquires on my behalf about a ticket to Mwanza in the morning. Here at the office, the bus leaves at 5.30am and from the bus station at 7.30am. I am in no rush especially when assured that there are plenty of tickets available. My friend assures me she will come in the morning to take me to the bus station and we walk back to her shop to share a beer there and meet her mother. Dinner that night is at a local bar with fish, shima, a local newspaper and plenty of folk who are mystified at my appearance there!

My new friend in Musoma

Next morning my friend is telephoning at 6am – she obviously doesn’t want me to miss the bus so is here already. By 6.30am we are out the door, checking with a couple of bus yards but continue on to the bus station on moto taxis. She puts me on the Mwanza bus, assures herself that I have a ticket at the right price before heading back to town – my shout. And that is the only payment she accepted! I still remain mystified why she decided to adopt me, but I was very grateful that she did. The Mwanza bus heads out of town on time and on board are the three Masai that I met the day before and we greet each other like old friends!! The countryside here is still green but becoming hilly but no glances of Lake Victoria as yet. At Bunda the Masai alight and they wish me well in my journey.  One hour later we arrive near Mwanza and the bus makes several drop offs around town. I have been quizzing my seat mate about where she is headed – Geita – on this bus. I start to understand that this bus will travel further westwards towards where I eventually want to go but turns off towards Bukoba in the north. The conductor wants to know where I want to go and after a bit of confusion and advice we work out that I can continue on this bus, get dropped at Bwanga and find other transport to travel onwards to Biharamulo. This will shorten my travel to the border tomorrow considerably. As the bus pulls in at the station in Mwanza, we take on more passengers for the trip to Bukoba, and head south towards the lake where I am again adopted by a lovely man who assures me that my planed route is sound and will get me to Biharamulo by the end of the day.

Ferry on Lake Victoria

But first we have to get across Victoria Lake by a vehicle ferry and one has broken down meaning that this one operating will be doubly loaded and twice as busy. I chat to a muzungu family on the ferry, South Africans now living and teaching in Geita. They assure me that this ferry is ok and again that my plans are ok – I do like to double check information I get just because! Its a safe crossing on Lake Victoria then back on the bus to head across the Tanzanian countryside. Many hours later we arrive at Bwanga, which is a tiny village, where I and my luggage are unloaded.  I ask here and there ‘Biharamulo’ and get directed around the corner and across the road where I find a car heading to Biharamulo that has just filled up – bugger. Then a young man dashes across the road and insists that they must take the mzungu. Now this car has three passengers and a driver in the front seats, four passengers across the bench seat and two passengers in the back. The driver relents and says if I can squeeze in at the back up to whatever town he said, I can get a seat the rest of the way. I clamber in without any ceremony because I want to keep heading west today and the last thing I want is to get stuck here. The road is dirt, dusty and red but I feel even sorrier for the many cyclists we pass, showering them each time with dust and stones. After about half an hour, we pull up, passengers alight and I get a quarter of the back bench seat – and I am a happy traveller again until we pull in at a small village where repairs are done to the car.  By the interest in me, I gather not too many mzungus get here and many, many children and adults alike find an excuse to slowly walk past and check me out! They are very shy and don’t really respond too well to being greeted so in the end I ignore them until eventually we get going again. The road is still atrocious, a deep red dust but as long as we move forward I am very happy. Eventually another long day finishes with a 6pm arrival at Biharamulo where I meet a lovely young man who immediately adopts me as soon as I step out of the bus park. He is very happy because he has received his second year results today and has passed well. He takes me around to a couple of guesthouses, sees me installed in White Lodge and then gives me a grand tour around town including the hospital, municipal offices etc. Dinner that night was ugali, great vegies, avocado salad and a Nile Perch head – memories of a movie I saw a few years ago – Darwin’s Nightmare that described the social and environmental changes being wrought by the introduction of the Nile Perch into Lake Victoria. One of them being that the fish fillet is exported to Europe, leaving only the heads and carcasses to sell at local markets.

Next morning I’m up early, eager to make a good start to get across the border and on to Kigali. At the bus park, I look for a shared taxi to ‘Rusumu’, find one with a young mum already on board, and within the hour we have enough passengers to head off.

Dumped literally the middle of nowhere on the way to Rwanda

BUT after an hour of travel and dropping passengers at their various destinations, there is only the young mum with baby and I left on board. So unless the driver can find more passengers on the way to Rusumu, he won’t make money. So he obviously decides to cut his losses, parks at an intersection and unceremoniously drops us there. In the middle of NOWHERE, to find more onward transport and we are a long way from where either of us wants to go. We are very unhappy about this bad treatment by the driver and locals try hailing a lift for the mzungu. Eventually a truck pulls up and offers me a lift right to the border as he is on the way to Congo. I climb on board and take a slow but sure way to Rusumu though the amazing hills of this part of the country that continues into Rwanda – the land of a thousand hills. Of course travelling in a truck on these beautiful hills is very slow going but I only see one other car pass us so I very grateful for this lift to the border. We stop for breakfast at a weighbridge parking along with the rest of the trucks who are driving this road and the driver deposits me at a shack café where I have the best cup of tea I have had for ages – piping hot too. After his paperwork is finalised, the driver collects me up again and we make the Rwanda border by 11am which is great with a bit more luck because I will definitely get to Kigali mid-afternoon to accomplish a few chores today.

FACT: Tanzania is very proud of its history of peace and in the main they are very kind and helpful, considering that tourists have been coming here for eons. But I found as a muzungu travelling in the backblocks that I was often accorded special privileges as a guest of their country that was amazing, if somewhat embarrassing. But I quickly learnt to graciously accept what was offered – be it a seat/place in a queue/advice/snacks/conversation - as to refuse or negotiate was impolite to those who were being hospitable to the visitor. I really enjoyed Tanzania, its coffee and fabulous natural attractions which includes it’s people. 

27 SEPTEMBER – 1 OCTOBER 2011

Gorgeous leopard

SAFARI (meaning more photos of wild animals)

TARANGIRE NP, LAKE TANGARA, NGORONGORO CRATER AND SERENGETI NP

Returning to fetch my pack which was already packed as I was planning to go to Arusha today, I find chaos is loudly breaking out at the hotel. By the time I get there the Israeli girls have found out that this trip is not spending a night at Ngorongoro when they were told it would.

here kitty, kitty, kitty

This does not auger well, I feel but my money is already tucked down a sock. There is much toing and froing on the street in front of the hotel, accusations of being lied to (true), no change of itinerary and as the girls have only paid a deposit, they cancel. That now leaves four of us on safari – Carol and Miguel from Spain, Juro from Slovakia and me with our driver Mosha and cook, Anuary. We now have lots of room in the car and after several stops for this and that we finally get going. Next stop is Arusha to buy a couple of onward bus tickets for Juro and I because we are not returning to Moshi at the end of the safari from Serengeti. While waiting for Anuary and Mosha to come back to the car, I try to buy some peanuts – and the bloke tried adding another 100 shillings on the cost just because he could!! I am very happy not to have had to tackle the touts here because I have a feeling they may have been twice as bad as in Moshi. From Arusha we drive west for a couple of hours to arrive at Tarangire National Park. We spend the afternoon driving and animal spotting – the usual lions, giraffe, wildebeest, buffalo and herds of elephants.

The park is in great shape and seems very well managed. I get to know my fellow passengers: Carol, Miguel and Juro have climbed Mt Kilomanjaro together so are already very good friends. The Spaniards have a stash of Spanish smallgoods with them that they kindly share, but Juro who can speak English and Spanish insists on only speaking Spanish with them. I try to keep up but my Spanish is so rusty that I give up and figure if he would like to include me, well and good. Otherwise I will suffice with my own company as this safari is twofold – it takes me to Serengeti and Ngorongoro and it gets me further west towards Lake Victoria which I could not do without private transport through the national parks.

Hide me, mum

We arrive at Panorama Camp in the evening just outside the village of Mto wa Mbu – river of mosquitos – on the escarpment of the Rift Valley with fabulous views of the lake in the distance and the wonderful night sky. We have standing tents, but no luxury here and I am very happy to have my own mossie net to use here. Our cook, Anuary does a fab meal for us and afterwards we are entertained by The Black Tigers (and Terry told me there are no tigers here in Africa!), a local crew with great acrobatic skills. But why, of why do they insist on singing Guantanamero?

Big elephants and an even BIGGER tree

Lake Tangara in the Rift Valley

Carol tells me that their porters also broke out singing that song when they completed the Mt Kili climb and they thought it most unusual! I suggest that surely ‘The Lion sleeps tonight’ could be more apt?

The morning brings to light the fabulous views from our vantage point camp and Lake Manyara is visible in the far distance. The second day of safari we have a guided walk right by Lake Manyara out through the village of Mto wa Mbu and onto the outskirts of the NP. We see buffalo, hippos, Thompsons Gazelle (no springboks here) who pronk just the same, and far away in the distance flamingos! Lunch is followed by a cultural walk through the village’s banana plantations learning all about the different varieties of bananas (yes, I already know them but the walk was pleasant enough), call in at a Makonde carvers workshop and end with a visit to try the local banana beer – yuck – no better or worse than sorghum beer or millet beer.  Earlier this day I couldn’t find my drink bottle and a packet of chips are missing – I suspect the baboons have raided my tent?

Bet one of these baboons raided my tent

On our return I make a search of the campgrounds for my drink bottle with the thought that the baboons may have dropped it because they wouldn’t have been able to open it and it was empty. BINGO it is found and I have it back – unbelievable luck really.

 Our third safari day takes us into Ngorongoro Crater which is absolutely HUGE – the biggest caldera in the world (Africa has been the making of my geography knowledge, I reckon).  Just the drive around the crater rim to the floor takes over an hour along the descent road.

jic you were wondering what Ngorongoro looked like

There are only three roads in and out of the Ngorongoro = a descent road, an ascent road and ascent and descent road that heads over to the smaller craters nearby. No views from the top due to cloud cover but heading down all becomes visible, including the diminishing Lake Magadi which does have flamingos. It is very, very dry here with vast herds of wildebeest and a sprinkling of animals but certainly not as many as I had anticipated. I think that if this was my one and only safari I would be disappointed. As it is, I have been thoroughly spoiled with only cheetahs and wild dogs on my ‘to see’ list now. One highlight though is seeing the Masai people up close and personal – no cultural visits as such, just lots of glimpse of them by the roads wrapped in their traditional brightly coloured blankets. On the way to Serengeti we spot a few boys with painted faces – new initiates. But I notice that women are not to be seen roundabouts – too busy working at home I guess while the blokes are gallivanting tending their cattle.

Late afternoon we enter Serengeti National Park and our driver heads straight to an area where we see two cheetahs – wow. I cannot think of anything else to describe how delighted I am, because they are absolutely gorgeous.

Gnus, wildebeest, call em what you like

When we arrive at the Twiga (giraffe) Rest House in Seronera there is no power because the generator is broken. But Annuary still does a fab job cooking up a storm, we still get hot water and the beds are netted and comfy so all is ok again.

Next day is spent driving and animal spotting – we see a great lion pride complete with males, lionesses and many cubs. There are many hippos, giraffe, wildebeest, elephants and even another cheetah very far away up in a tree. We drive back to house for lunch and while Carol, Miguel and Juro take a siesta I spot Mosha climbing into the car. He’s heading back to the airport, which is past the information centre, so I ask for a lift. It turns out to be really interesting and I spend a fascinating hour or two there..

Its a twiga

They show dvds of the Great Migration and Lions – both are really great to watch, especially after seeing the animals for real. I price the dvds in the gift shop - $12 each!! I pick up something else - $12!! Other tourists are all happily paying him dollars for the souvenirs but I suspect that this guy is plucking prices out of thin air. I ask him again how much, in shillings and the prices drop somewhat but not enough to tempt me. I reckon I can pick up a David Attenborough doco at JB HiFi when I get home for less and be guaranteed of the quality as these are all burned copies. There is an information trail here and I learnt many, many things including the fact that all baby wildebeest are born within the space of 3 weeks every year – and the baby wildebeest can stand within 10 minutes of birth and run at full speed within the hour of being born!!! The crocodiles living in the rivers depend on the great migrations crossings – one wildebeest is enough to sustain a croc for six months, until the next crossing!

This afternoon the short rain set in – but not so short this afternoon. I am happy with all we have seen but Juro is pretty determined to see more. After an hour of driving in the rain even he becomes despondent and lets us give up so heading back to our final dinner together at Twiga we meet up with its namesake right nearby.

Last day we have a morning drive before breakfast – two cheetahs far away, but the real highlight is a leopard right next to the road with a carcass high up in a tree that he returns to nibble on at intervals. We spot a lovely lion, hippos, giraffe and of course more wildebeest.

Juro and I get dropped at the bus ‘stop’ at Seronera around 10am with our packed lunches and we farewell our safari companions. Then we wait and wait and wait and of course I get chatting and end up drinking warm beer in the shade until the bus finally turns up at 1.30pm. Our seats are there and off we go, through more of the Serengeti to exit at the Ikoma Ggate. Bye bye Serengeti

FACT: Tanzania is home to a formidable number of UNESCO World Heritage Sites including Kilimanjaro NP, Ngorongoro Conservation Area, Serengeti NP, Selous Game Reserve and Zanzibar’s Stone Town. The other ones I missed are the Kilwa Kisiwani & Songo Mnara ruins down south and Kolo-Kondoa Rock Art Sites (no idea where they are).  So even though Tanzania has one of the highest proportions of protected land of any African country - about 30% is protected in some form - limited resources limit conservation efforts whilst soil erosion, deforestation, desertification and corruption continue erode the Tanzanian natural wealth.

Keep your head down and they might go away

Nope they're still there

sample timber that makes...

these carvings

Ngorongoro Crater

Sunset on the Serengeti

Wallowing hippos

Lazing lionesses

25/26 SEPTEMBER 2011

TANZANIA– Country number 19 – Formerly TANGANIKYA

SECOND VISIT

After a very smooth, two hour ferry trip back to Dar, I disembark and get stamped back into Tanzania again. Walking from the port I manage to get lost again.

Smoking must be good for your singing?

There is something about these curly Dar streets that I lose my way every time, even when I think it should be straightforward. I cannot fathom it especially when I often have a reasonable sense of direction. So after walking twice as far as I should have, I check into the YWCA’s nicely netted room, dump my pack and get a dalladalla straight out to Ubungo bus station to book tomorrow’s bus to Moshi. AARRGGHHH As soon as I enter the general area of the bus station I am assailed by touts – “sister, sister where are you going?” They make money by taking you to bus companies’ ticket counters and claiming a commission on the cost of your ticket.

Naturally your ticket costs more so the trick is to find the right counter without any help. All the while being hassled by at least five or six blokes all yelling at me “sister, sister where are you going? Arusha? Moshi? Nairobi?” At first I don’t have much luck finding the company I want, while many tell me they are Dar Express – but I know they’re not so it is very frustrating. Eventually one man takes pity on me and says quietly “44 and 45, Dar Express.” Thank heavens some people are kind in amongst the rogues and I immediately find counter 44 and 45 to get my ticket to Moshi without any further ado.  Later I chat to a local about my experience here and he gives me some very invaluable advice – as soon as you arrive tell them “I already have a ticket” and they will immediately leave you alone. After the bus station trauma, getting the dalladalla back to town was easy and I lash out on a taxi to the Masani Slipway, a recreational spot for well-heeled locals and expats alike, to watch the sunset with a Safari beer in hand. Aaahhhhhhhh

HUH??

A nice easy evening packing for tomorrow’s foray west to Moshi and leaving the YWCA in the early morning, the guard fetches me a taxi. We soon find the traffic around Ubungo is so heavy  even at 5.30am that I get dropped a block away and walk the rest of the way to slip through the touts grasp at the entrance because “I have a ticket”. Easy but long bus ride to Moshi – why? The trip used to take six hours but now the government tells the buses they have to keep to the speed limit to reduce accidents (could someone tell that to bl**dy  Ng’itu Express). So now it takes nine hours to reach Moshi from Dar es Salaam. But all the way there is great scenery, as we head past the Usambarra Mountains here in northeast Tanzania towards the major coffee growing region of Tanzania.

More hassle here in Moshi on arrival but I manage to walk the kilometre into town unaided. First three places are full but each one kindly directs me onto another place and eventually I check into Kilimanjaro Backpackers Hotel. Tiny room but I’m only here one night to see if I can see the mountain – I have no intention to climb it for I am far too lazy. Walking around here in Moshi I gain new friends on every block – as soon as you shrug one off, there’s another guy (AND they are all blokes) waiting at the next corner. Honestly some of them run when they see you so they can be first at you to greet you, question you, be your friend and then sell you something on which they can get a commission.

There's a mountain somewhere under that cloud

I try looking for Mount Kilimanjaro but have to ask to know which way to look as the sky is full of clouds. Hopefully sunset may see them clear somewhat. Kindoroko Hotel is booked out so their rooftop bar is closed to non-residents. I spy another hotel rooftop from the street and head up there to find out that yes they do have a rooftop bar so up the stairs I climb to the fifth floor. It’s a funny place with a different warning at each floor about keeping quiet. Upon reaching the top floor there are no staff, but great views so I enjoy a peaceful view of Moshi waiting for the clouds to slowly lift at sunset. They do to a certain extent but there is no clear view of the mountain tonight. Soon enough an ‘old friend, remember me?’ turns up and sending me off back downstairs to the streets of Moshi for a sunset beer, dinner and early night to travel  to Arusha tomorrow.

Over breakfast I get talking with three Israelis who are leaving on safari today. I ask them lots of questions about how they picked the company because I am so turned off by the street touts here. The girls tell me that it’s a wonderful company, they used them to try and climb Mt Meru, he’s a very nice man and you just have to give them a chance, they tell me. A Slovakian guy is also going on the same safari today along with a Spanish couple. When I ask Juro more questions he kindly gives me the company’s card – Totally Wild. This used to be a popular kids tv program at home, so on a whim I head around there and find they can fit one more person on board. I figure that the other travellers would have asked lots of questions and they are happy so I pay my money and I’m on. Or should that be off on Safari today!!

FACT: At 5896m, Mt Kilimanjaro is the highest peak in Africa and the destination of many wannabe climbers because apparently you can walk all the way to the top without ropes or climbing experience. I remain untempted by this fact.