21 – 25 SEPTEMBER 2011

ZANZIBAR – Country number 20 – ZANZIBAR

STONE TOWN

A calm two hour ferry ride across the waters, which was most unlike the ferry booking offices the day before. Now Zanzibar is not officially an independent country, although its immigration is certainly alive and well here with very formal forms to be filled on and an exit form to return on departure of the island. Whist waiting in line, I notice one bloke has all his passport and visa photocopies but the chap in uniform is very unmoved – I’m happy I didn’t listen to Mr Rwanda’s advice!

It’s a two minute walk to Bandari Lodge, a traditional house and my room is gorgeous with lots of windows, mosquito netted wooden traditional beds and lovely thick whitewashed walls.
There is a kitchen to cook in and breakfast is provided. Cheap, cheerful and very atmospheric – very suitable for Stone Town and very like Rubys in Mozambique Island, just not as stylish.  Later, when walking about and trying to orientate myself to this Malindi area someone is waving to me from a café – it’s Fin whom I last saw in Harare and it’s lovely to see him again. He’s been here for a few days now and fills me in on all the tips and places to see. He recommends a spice tour, tells me where there’s free wifi, what the beaches are like andto go Forodhani Gardens for dinner where everyone meets up in the evening.
We chat about our travels and Fin is certainly doing it very well – meeting people and really getting to the countryside.
He’s leaving on tonight’s ferry to start moving northwards to meet his brother in Cairo from where they will travel the Middle East. I wish him luck on the overland travel up through Sudan and we both wonder if we may meet again up in Uganda. I have now decided to not be surprised at who I may meet again from here on in!! That night I head to Forodhani Gardens by the sea and it is very atmospheric here with lanterns lighting an array of stalls and many people strolling about with families and friends. Upon closer inspection it looks as if there is very little variety here with mainly two different sorts of stalls either selling sugarcane juice or various shellfish/fish kebabs at outrageous prices. I can’t understand how locals are affording this food and listen carefully to soon realise that there are two different prices being quoted – one for locals and another for the mzungus tourists. Next night I try Darajani market where the juice is half the price and variety of food available is very different to Forodhani Gardens. I finish my meals here with great masala tea.

I am staying close to the harbour where there is a fantastic fish market that is alive with boats coming in and workers wading out with baskets to carry in the catches to be auctioned on shore. I visit here a few times just because it is so lively and interesting especially for people watching. Returning to Darajani market in town, I buy a couple of pieces of very fresh tuna to cook up for my lunch on a couple of days. Another day I search out an indian restaurant to have a great vego thali.

One morning I meet up with Judi  who I was put in touch with by Tanzania Girl Guides. Judi is looking to start a Girl Guide unit on Zanzibar – originally from Sydney, married to a Tanzanian and running two restaurants and a guesthouse! They now have a little girl and Judi is looking at Girl Guides to provide an alternative recreation that is traditionally available to moslem girls (tv at home!) here.

Fine weather for walking all over town each day because I just love the great architecture here in Stone Town that is now very much valued; tiny shops, courtyards and laneways always winding through to somewhere else, and of course because of the high storied houses there is plenty of shade. It’s a melting pot of African, Omani, Arabic, Portuguese and Indian cultures. Stone Town streets and alley ways are lovely – full of children running to and from schools, little girls in full hijab and little boys walking to Madrassas. Women in black hijab and niquaya, men in kanzu and kofia walking to the many mosques dotted inside the town – the oldest dating from 1831, Msikiti wa Balnara. There is The Old Fort built around 1700 by the Omani Arabs on the site of a Portuguese chapel and is decorated by a very modern Girl Guide badge at it’s entrance!! The gorgeous Old Dispensary, being renovated by the Aga Khan Charitable Trust and the Anglican cathedral of St Monicas is built over the former slave market site and auction yards.

There is a Beit El-Sahel (Palace Museum), the sultan’s residence until 1964 devoted to the Sultanate era and Beit El-Ajaib (a House of Wonders) built in 1883 by Sultan Bargarsh as a ceremonial palace. Great displays at the latter: A Kanga display - kangas are printed cotton wraps worn by women that often incorporate a Swahili proverb. There is also a life sized mtepe – a traditional Zanzibar sailing vessel made without nails. Both of these lovely buildings have fabulous vistas of the Zanzibar shoreline and back towards the town from their balconies.

I book a ‘spice tour’ on Fin’s recommendation and because Zanzibar was founded on spices. We are driven to someone’s garden an hour out of town where there are a couple of each variety of spice including turmeric, nutmeg and vanilla. Our Spice lunch is very ordinary, but there is turmeric in the vegies. The tour’s highlight for me was to see the Hamamni Persian Baths, built by Sultan Bargash in the late 19^th Century. Other than that, forget about the spice bit – no plantations BUT I did get to see a vanilla flower.

Having a sunset beer at the Africa Hotel, I chat to an American couple who are renewing their vows tomorrow at the St Joseph’s Catholic cathedral.
Just for fun I try to get there but too late she cried after going to the wrong church. So when I finally get to St Joseph’s church I stay for the next local weddings – two together. One wedding party with hawthorn colours and the other a mint green. The brides are done up like princesses with their guests are all dressed in colours corresponding to the wedding party they are attending. There is much hooting, ululating and cheers at various parts of the wedding mass including the ’I DO’ bits. It was lovely to witness so much happiness and hope here, in a continent where these emotions can often seem to be very much missing in day to day life for a lot of people here.

Meeting up with the Colombian in Stonetown

Walking down through Kenyatta Rd a tourist passes and recognises me – he’s certain he knows me asking ‘do you remember me? Do you know where we met?’ He is vaguely familiar and I make a guess that it was probably in West Africa? YES, he tells me, we met in Mopti and then I remember The Columbian!! We took the boat together with a bunch of travellers along the Niger River up to Timbuktu. I last saw him at the Desert Festival where he could only stay one day because of having to catch a flight back home….. And he’s been home, worked and is now at the tail end of another travel through East Africa, flying off tomorrow morning back to Nairobi and Barcelona!!! I still find it UNBELEIVABLE to meet people like this. I mean this continent is BIG, the countries many, and even to be in the same town and then the same street at the same time to meet is amazing. Esteban is lovely to talk to and he has news of the Croatians we travelled with and we are both friends on FB with Temoris. I knew that a few of the folk we had all been together had been very ill with Malaria after that trip to Tim and he tells me he saw the horrible Dutchman another time in Spain and avoided him like the plague! We agree to catch up again some more tonight at Forodhani Gardens and chat for several hours there. We part ways wishing each other luck with promises to find each other on Facebook.

The very BIG tree

Apparently there are also lovely beaches here on Zanzibar but alas I didn’t have any interest in visiting them proving how very slack/selective I am becoming! Soon enough the calendar tells me its time to return to the mainland and with my return ticket in hand it is only a matter of turning up, getting on board the Sea Express and waving farewell to Zanzibar. aahhhhh after the rain the waters are as smooth as…. Aaahhhhhh And onwards through Tanzania again

FACT:  Zanzibar was one of East Africa’s great trading centres for centuries, where Africa, India and Arabia met. Persia was arriving from the 8^th Century and trade in gold, ivory, wood and slaves prospered along with the adoption of Islam. Along came the Portuguese in the 16^th Century, then the British and then the unlikely Omani Arabs whose empire prospered with slaves, ivory and cloves. SO much so that the Omar Sultan moved his court here in 1840. By 1860 Zanzibar became independent from Oman with Omani Sultans ruling under a British Protectorate until 1963 and full independence. In 1964 a declaration of unity was signed with Tanganyika and Zanzibar became part of the new United Republic of Tanzania.

19 - 21 SEPTEMBER 2011

Stalled in DAR ES SALAAM TANZANIA

What else to do in Dar? Go Monday armed with dates, itineraries and credit cards to buy Ethiopian Air tickets – but the boss says I have to buy two international fares in and out of Ethiopia to qualify for the domestic vouchers. The salesman quietly tells me to try again in Nairobi  where there will be no problems.  Check out a photography exhibition at Alliance Francaise – SOUTOURA by Angel Luis Alsai – lovely photographs of West African women. I also spend an inordinate amount of time over at the Holiday Inn using their wifi. I purchase 24hr blocks and despite being told that it is strictly 24 hours, I find a way to stretch it out over 3 days access. I look online and find a return ticket to Madagascar for $500 return from Nairobi with Air Madagascar(half of Kenya Airways pricing, ) and I allow a couple of days either side of the GAP tour that I anticipate joining – I’ll wait until closer to the time to see if I can get a last minute pricing. Thank you Lesley for the heads up on the tour because I had given up on going to Madagascar after she fell sick and couldn’t come.

There is a huge indian population here and that means there are many Sikh, Parsi and Hindu temples all centered in one area nearby. Mohammed tipped me on where to get chai – but each morning I try they have sold out - but their samosas are the best I’ve had yet!

I visit the tourist office in case I have missed something interesting to see around town and pick up a brochure for the Dar zoo with photos of various animals in concrete cages and enclosures. The publicity highlights ‘Finally, there is THE DREAM RIDE a chance for our visitors to ride animals of their own choice, a camel, a horse or a donkey and set out on CARAVAN safari around the zoo. What a lifetime experience this promises to be for you and your family and friend.” I remain unmoved and give the zoo a BIG miss.

Eagerly ringing the Rwanda Embassy Monday re the visa – no, ring this time tomorrow. More time to walk along the seafront and check out ferry prices in anticipation of leaving the mainland tomorrow.

Eagerly ring Rwanda Embassy again late Tuesday morning to be told off and instructed to ring this afternoon at 3pm. OK, now this afternoon’s ferry is a no go so another tonight here in Dar.  I telephone again at 3pm to be told that my visa is ready, come and pick it up. Try to get there myself again on the Dalladallas, I make it out to a stop called Morrocco and am nearly within touching distance but just can’t find the right dalldalla – a chap wants to help and takes me there in a tuk tuk (yes they have them here) because he wants to help me. I enter Rwanda’s visa office to find the bloke online on Facebook and he proceeds to write me a receipt, paste my visa in my passport and hand it back to me saying “you have thirty days, effective now.” WHAT? My thirty days are ticking by now? But why? “Didn’t they tell you?” NO and I didn’t bl**dy ask either, so more fool me. Not the end of the world though and I quickly get a dalladalla back to Morocco and back to Posta then straight to the ferry terminal to buy a ticket for tomorrow. The reputation of the ticket touts here is well known and they are very persistent, so after a couple of false starts I eventually purchase an open return tix over to Zanzibar and will avoid paying a Ports departure tax in Zanzibar. Now I am happy again with plans to be moving again.

FACT: Since 1973, Dosoma has been the official capital of Tanzania and the headquarters of the ruling Party. However Dar es Salaam is Tanzania’s major city and its capital in everything but name, being the unrivalled economic and political centre of the country..

14 - 19 SEPTEMBER 2011

DAR ES SALAAM TANZANIA

Finally checking into the YMCA, I sing the song, making all the hand actions,

OF COURSE in memory of the Village People and disco!  My room has a balcony overlooking huge mango trees in the centre of town and backs onto a church with lovely bells at 6.30am each morning. There is a great cafeteria and bar here along with lovely folk working here. Even the voracious taxi drivers out the front are very friendly accept my daily knock back in response to their offer of a taxi ride, with grace. Granted there are power cuts each day but with a generator so we are never indisposed for very long. And we are right across the road from the Holiday Inn, with its fab rooftop bar and fantastic wifi.

Try making my way around using the dalladallas – get directed to Uganda street and get a taxi to the Uganda embassy . Pay at the bank come back and “one minute, madam”.  30minutes later I have the sticker in  my passport and I figure its not too late to try Rwanda as well this morning. No luck finding my way with the dalladallas so I get a taxi who insists he knows where the embassy is – I try to tell him it’s the other way, but I am reluctant to be so sure. Turns out he was wrong, I was right, they have moved and nobody told him! Sorry madam, sorry madam – but yet there is something to be said for a bargained price because even if they get lost you don’t pay extra.  Back we go to Old Bagamoyo Rd and find their lovely big new house with little sign of offices or workers.  The security guard leads me to a back room where there is one desk with a lovely young Rwandan woman who is very excited that I am Australian and wanting to travel to Rwanda. She has never been there (to Rwanda) but is hoping to visit next month. I fill in the paperwork and then receive a post it note with a telephone number to call tomorrow along with an account number to pay US$50 into if the said telephone call says its ok. Half of the day is gone now, but I message Zohra from Girl Guides Tanzania to arrange to visit their HQ tomorrow.

I try for the tourist office and Ethiopian Airlines but both are closed by the time I make my way back into town. In the morning I head to the now open tourist office and I am successful in getting decent instructions out to Mwananyamala, where I want to go, using the dalladallas. When I get to the Mama Zakaria stop, I telephone Stella who comes out to meet me and we walk back to a house that they are using as a headquarters while they await a new office to be built – it will take 2 years!!!  I meet some of the Region Leaders who are in town to learn a new training project to make girls aware of the dangers of alcohol. At home our health departments take this type of education on board but here it is left to small organisations who petition for funding to do it. Apparently here in Tanzania alcohol consumption is a real problem, with many rural folk in some areas using it to settle their babies and tots without any knowledge of the danger in doing so. Hmmm Stella tells me there is one woman on Zanzibar who is looking to start Girl Guides and I ask if I can be putin contact to meet with her – no problems. We wish each other farewell and Stella sees me safely onto the Dalladalla back to town.

Wise words

Back I come to the city and visit Ethiopian Airlines to get official confirmation that if I fly in and out of Addis I am entitled to internal airfares at much reduced prices. This is great news unlike the Rwandans who tell me after calling them that yes I will be approved for the visa and it will be ready on Tuesday. TUESDAY – and what will I do till then, methinks??  I explain that I had planned to travel to Zanzibar but without a passport that will not be possible. He reassures me that I can travel to Zanzibar using a copy of my passport but I just don’t believe that and think it would probably be my luck to catch the ferry over, only to be sent back because of no passport. He suggests I ring Monday but he is not making any promises. That means I will be here in Dar until Tuesday if I can catch an afternoon ferry to the island, fingers crossed.

Friday evening I am finally reading Thursday’s Tanzanian Daily News and I notice an article about Tazara Railways who are celebrating Tanzania’s 50^th year of Independence and their own 35^th anniversary by running a special train down to Selous Game Reserve. “It includes the annual beauty pageant winners for them to enjoy the beautiful landscape along the railway line! Moreove, other people are allowed to buy the tickets and enjoy the trip at a low cost.”

MIss Tanzania and bodyguard

A return day trip to Selous with Miss Tanzania and her four runners up on board? Nothing else to do tomorrow so why not! I head out early Saturday morning to the Tazara station to find crowds around Miss Tanzania and Miss Second, Third, Fourth and Fifth in the flesh! Tickets are still available so I lash out for a ticket in first class and join two pommy blokes in a compartment decorated with a flower arrangement of roses! It turns out we are the only mzungus on board and they are both here for work here (economics etc). They bought their tix days ago when the trip was first announced and they assure me that our tickets are all inclusive!  
We are asked if we mind another passenger – no, plenty of room and we are joined by Mohammed asks if he can join us and he who is a mine of information having been in the railway industry for 30 years. And it seems as if he knows everyone on board, knew the rail line backwards and even had a timetable for today’s trip. The train leaves ON TIME and soon enough we were served a packed breakfast and delicious masala tea – chai. This is followed by quickly by offers of beer! I walk through the train to the airplane equivalent of ‘the pointy end’ to find Miss Tanzania Salha Israel,  dining off real plates with Tanzania Railways ‘Deputy Managing Director. Because Tazara is a joint operation between Zambia and Tanzania so there are two Deputy Managing Directors – one from Zambia and the other from Tanzania. We have the Tanzania’s Deputy on board, Damas Danial Ndumbaro who is very happy to meet a mzungu and promises to call in on my compartment later. Photos are taken, I get a guided tour of the pointy end to see a real double bed, a full sized bath in the bathroom and I get to shake many hands, introduce myself and where I come from. Enough of the pleasantries I wander down through the rest of the train where techs are trying to get the PA going – because its just not a celebration unless here is loud music happening. Everyone is on board with friends and workmates and I wonder just how many of them actually have purchased tickets! Second and Third classes are full and there is a great anticipation about today’s trip, everyone is happy, smiling and wants to know who I am and where I’ve popped up from!  I am really in search of another chai now but no luck there so after the many more offers of a beer I relent and find myself watching the scenery fly past drinking my first Safari (beer) of the day at 10am!

A full sized bath on the train JIC??

There are tv crews on board from both Zambia and from Tanzania recording this momentous day and I am interviewed by both stations. Some chap pops into our compartment at regular intervals to keep us informed of what is going to happen next. Mohammed keeps us up to the minute on how much time we have gained or lost at the various stations we pass. And by this time the music is blaring but we find the volume control in our compartment actually works so we are all happy travellers. Another update on our travels tells us that the rail line cuts through the Selous Game Reserve, the train will slow down when it passes through and if we spot animals  the train will stop to allow us to view them more easily. What a civilised train ride! The animals didn’t seem too keen on the train and obviously knew that this was not a timetabled arrival – but we did manage to spot various (and fleeing) giraffe, zebra, elephants, antelopes and birdies. We then reached the small station of Kisaki where everyone disembarked and the women were off like a shot to the village for a spot of shopping. So naturally I followed the women because they ALWAYS know what is going on and what is good.
Local kids were employed to carry back the kilograms of fresh produce purchases – I really didn’t think there would have been a tomato left in that village after those passengers had been through! Later when we’re back on the train returning to Dar, Mohammed lamented that he didn’t get to the village for shopping because he didn’t know about it – no train line there I think and you didn’t follow the women! lol  Mohammed also laments the lost time and gives us a very accurate estimate of our late arrival time. He also kindly offers me a lift back into to town and the two poms jump on too.
A long day but really a lot of fun on a once off journey!

FACT: The short rains have started here and just like a tropical monsoon.  Known as mvuli, they are very heavy but usually over in ten or fifteen minutes.. But beware getting caught out in them because you will most certainly be soaked to the skin within a couple of minutes.

I thought this was a really cool wheel cover

13 SEPTEMBER 2011

TANZANIA– Country number 19 – TANZANIA

MTWARA, SOUTHERN TANZANIA

Up bright and early, 4am after a good night’s sleep to catch an elusive transport to the frontier. Leaving behind the bananas that won’t survive a trip with the pensao manager, I head out into the new morning looking forward to crossing the border today. There is a security guard wearing khaki coloured pants and shirt, carrying a rifle, must be a security bloke right? Who advises me not to stand in front of the shops but to move further down the road, where he can keep an eye on me because “Palma no good”. Watching the sun rise in yonder east, I use the last of my Mozambique credit to give Terry a quick call and for the first time in nine months he calls me back!!! We chat and he fills me in on the recent Tanzanian ferry sinking, with over 200 people drowned. I tell him that I will know after Dar es Salaam which way I will come home as I hope to get some plans and dates firmed up, especially for Ethiopia.

Not only have I returned to African lands of mosquito nets, but also Islam. A chap in kanzu (white robe worn as an outer layer for prayer) and kofia (embroidered linen cap) walks past and asks “where are you going”. I tell him the frontier and he tells me I ‘should not wait there, come with me’. Fair enough too, I think and I follow him to the one road out of town where there at least a dozen folk all waiting for the elusive transport to the border. I start chatting to try and find out what they know and one fellow tells me that someone told him three cars have already gone to the border this morning – I’m shocked at this news and tell him I’ve been waiting longer than an hour and nothing has gone past yet. “But one car went at 1am” he tells me – 1 AM!! Are these people out of their cotton picking minds? Why on earth would you want to reach a border at 2am?? If anyone else can fathom it out, please tell me because even after all this time I still remain none the wiser as to wait makes some of these transports and times tick! I question my new friend about the river crossing and he assures me that it is very low and ok “but when it rains the water is very difficult and takes over an hour or two to cross”. This reassures me and before you know it he’s hopping on the back of his son-in-law’s motorbike to get to the border and I start to think I will may checking in back at the pensao again when our hopes are raised by a landcruiser pulling up – its full but people are getting out and I’m told to ‘get in’ they have saved a seat for me. And off on another roller coaster ride hanging on but at least the door I’m sitting against closes unlike the other door that will not close and occasionally gets kick shut by the blokes hanging on for grim life outside, one of whom gave up his seat for me. After a couple of hours (and passing te motorbike) we arrive in Namoto for Immigration and then a customs check where I had to open my pack for a fairly thorough search! No problems though and while I’m waiting for the rest of our passengers to clear border formalities a local lad approaches me with a reasonable offer for my Mozambique meticais which I accept. Then he offers me a boat ride over the river for a price. Not very cheap but not too pricey (he’s already made a tidy profit on the cash exchange) and he seems nice enough so I agree. When we are all cleared immigration and customs there is another half hour drive to the river where all hell breaks loose on our arrival. My young chap motions me aside, gets my pack, rounds up his mate and we’re first off across the river. I am reasonably happy with this so far and check to see if others are actually following us in case we are headed somewhere different where I don’t want to go – bugger being always suspicious. The river is so, so low we beach on sandbanks a couple of times, requiring the guys to get out and push the canoe. When we do land, it is at a bank in the middle of the river so we then proceed to have to WALK across the centre of the Rovuma River because it is so, so empty. And there I was worrying about the crossing when I am walking across its muddy flats for ages. We reach another river crossing and here a couple of kids with even smaller canoes are there waiting (instead of being in school). We all three climb on board one of the canoes when his mate thought it would be are a hoot to rock the boat severely so as to nearly toss all of us out. The blokes I was with were angry and when we landed I really growled at our poler – not his fault madam, but I figured if I told him off enough he wouldn’t be so keen to let his stupid mate do it again for a laugh. These boys would have been lucky to be ten years old, with no educations, regard or respect for anyone. Frontiers are tough places with parents who have you working as soon as they can, forget about school or any other hopes you may have as you grow up. We walk some more and at some stages I get piggy backed across watery muddy bits and I certainly feel a real goose. Then there are the muddy slippery bits which for those that know me very well, can just see me on my arse in it. Careful madam, careful madam they say. Eventually we reach the outpost and I’m second to the car which means I get the second seat INSIDE the matolo!! Who hoo, now I feel like a queen, especially with all the piggy back rides I got today to save my precious feet from becoming too wet! They can take as long as they like to fill this truck because I have a seat and shade and I made across the border with very little hassle.  Soon enough we’re off and reach Kilambo, enter Tanzania and I get a 3 month entry for $50, no hassle, no questions asked which was wonderful because I had kept worrying that perhaps the rules may have changed.  We are then driven all the way into Mtwara, making me as happy as Larry especially when the driver is kind and offers to drop me right at the Lutheran Centre when get to town – so thoughtful and a nice introduction to Tanzania. The rooms at the Lutheran are clean and mosquito netted so after my early start and energetic border crossing it’s time for a nana nap for a couple of hours under the fan to let the midday sun cool off. Heading into town around 3pm I manage to find my way to a bus garage to inquire about tickets onwards up north. Not here and soon a boy comes out to guide me to the bus station where I buy a ticket and confirm the 5.30am reporting time – yuck. I wander some more to find St Pauls, a church reputed to have ‘impressive artwork’. After a few lucky guesses and turns about town I find the church, ask the priest if I can visit and find the art somewhat uninspiring even if slightly retro. More like biblical murals around the walls, it would have been very modern in the 60s when it was painted by a German Benedictine priest. Back to the market to get a new sim card for my phone and I’m feeling very happy getting things accomplished so how about some dinner at a bar near the Lutheran Centre? I try Tanzania’s Kilimanjaro beer but find it a bit ‘hoppy’ but there are other local brands to try like Safari and Serengeti– are you finding a certain theme here? Food offerings are very limited at the bar – fried shrimps and chipsie. OMG has all of Africa converted to chips? I take the chips and give the fried egg a miss. Back to the Lutheran centre, I head off to the loo with my room key which is attached to a big wooden holder but as I lock the loo door and turn around I hear a certain tinkle, tinkle and watch my room key slide off the wooden keyring and all the way into the toilet – a hole in the floor style loo too. I quickly decide that there is no way I am going to even try and retrieve it so I go back out to the bloke at reception and tell him as clearly as I can that I have lost my room key down the toilet. He understood key, lost and toilet quickly and handled the news quite well really. It sent him on a long search for a duplicate key, coming back a few times with handfuls of keys to try and eventually third time lucky he got the door open. He tried it again on the inside and as it was bit dicky, I gave it a go and it worked ok – oh happy days again. Later he returned with his telephone number in case I got stuck inside the locked door, very thoughtful of him eh?

Next morning I travelled on a VERY scary bus ride to Dar with Ng’itu Express – I would advise anyone NOT to take this bus service to or from Mtwara – there is every chance you may die!! The driver drove like a madman – to keep up with the bus in front I was told, because he wants to be first to Dar! First to his bloody grave, I thought especially when there were two separate occasions he almost lost control after overtaking other traffic (read going even faster) then swerving to avoid a head on accident. I shared my death bench with Juma, who studies IT (what else?) in Mtwara and was going up to Dar to visit his aunt. Nice to talk to and he was always reminding me that ‘this road is very bad’ and ‘we have been on this bad road for one hour now”. Hmmmm Late afternoon we get into Dar es Salaam and into very heavy traffic with more roadworks and Juma suggests that because I am heading into the city I should get out at an earlier stop and get a taxi ather than spend more time in the traffic heading further out from town to the bus station, Umbongo. Great advice and soon enough I’m in a taxi that pulls into petrol station after petrol station in a search for fuel. Then we tackle very heavy traffic into the centre of town.

FACT: Tanzania has been hailed as the only country in the world to have conducted a special study on children in detention facilities and for this it will be named as a good example during the next UN General Assembly in New York.  I thought it might be nicer to get the 491 surveyed kiddies out of the 65 detention centres or determine how to keep them out of there in the first place….. 

13 SEPTEMBER 2011

NORTHERN MOZAMBIQUE – the tippy tippy top

Start the journey north towards the border we walk to the nearby I firstly have to get a chapa over the bridge then swap to bigger minibus to Namialo with another couple who are heading west and get ripped off with a huge charge for luggage – BAH. Then get dropped at Namialo to look for a bus going north to Pemba. There is one bus already at the junction so I quiz the lucky bus driver – remember my portuguese is very, very poor – but the name Pemba elicits a shaking head, the name Mocimboa and an explanation follows of which I understand very little! But I make a guess that he is going somewhere else but he can drop me at the Pemba turn off. I dash inside, settle in, check my maps to locate where he is actually headed and realise he is going all the way to Mocimboa de Praia which I had initially thought would take me three days to travel to. I was planning to try to visit the Quirimbas Archipelago further north as the islands are meant to be gorgeous but I quickly gauged them not to be unique (my new yard stick) and I decide to take what the universe give me! I’ve got a great front seat to stretch my legs out, my seat neighbour is a mine of good information and I will save two days travelling (and two mornings of early rising). YAHOO, I can’t stop smiling! When we catch up with another bus at a police checkpoint, the driver tells me its ‘Pemba’ but my new friend tells him I’m staying on board for the whole ride. She is also going over the border up to Dar so I figure I might places if I can hang onto her coattails – and she seems happy to take me under her wing. She feeds me snacks, bargains with the sellers for me in towns and is very interesting to talk to, as she has a small disability requiring use of one crutch and is draped in hijab travelling with a small entourage for what I don’t know.  An unusual woman and quite widely travelled within Africa. Then even though I understood that she was going to stay in Mocimboa, as soon as we arrive late afternoon she hustles me towards a crowded matola, I’m histled on board and next thing I’m being driven on another bad road towards Palma. I try clarifying what Fatima’s plans are today and I hope they don’t include coercing a mzungu up to the frontier, robbing her and leaving her stranded!  I do hate being hustled and hurried so I ask to try and ascertain where she is staying tonight – ‘at the frontier’. Then I am told that only Africans can cross the border at this time, not mzungus. I will have to stay in Palma and travel to Namoto tomorrow morning.to cross the border. Some discussion follows and from what I can understand I should have stayed back in Mocimboa as Palma has a bad reputation. I ask about the LP guide’s accommodation suggestion,  get directed back out of town but that will never do if I have to be up at 5am again to travel. I ask about any pensao in town and find the one and only is very acceptable,  very clean and reasonably priced. After rinsing off some of the dust from todays travel I walk the length of town trying to locate something to eat other than fried fish. I end up eating fried fish with a nice roll for dinner. Beer o’clock so I find a bar with an assortment of drunks, beggars and out of towners who are perched for the night. The owner blasts one bloke who won’t give up nagging me for a contribution and then I’m left in peace to watch the riveting (not) tv soapie with everyone else. One man posted here for work to set up fish farms chats to me for a while until his wife turn up! lol It doesn’t take much to get to sleep tonight even though I am a still a little worried about the forthcoming border crossing tomorrow. This frontier requires a river crossing in a dug out canoe and the guidebook describes it as being either dangerous or adventurous depending on your perspective.  I have been asking over the last few weeks to try and ascertain what the situation might be and the most reassuring thing I know is that there hasn’t been very much rain so all rivers are very low. The other warnings I received concerned the boatmen – they are very hard to bargain with and there is certainly a very high price quoted for mzungus. Locals like to laugh as they tell you what any price is for them, “but for you, I don’t know” they say. Another ploy is to bargain with the mzungu then get to the middle of the river and threaten to throw your belongings out of the boat unless you paid more. Oh joy, oh joy – memories of getting a boat at the Laos border into Cambodia – a real nightmare and alas nothing to look forward to. But onwards I will go and hopefully things may work out ok.

FACT: Mozambique is spread out over 800,000 sq km and has a 2500km coastline, six national parks including two offshore marine parks. Environmentally the country is trying to break new ground which is so refreshing for Africa, I think. Over 80% of the population are working at least part time in subsistence farming and HIV infection rates hover around 20%. All in all I think they maybe a little stalled but I hope that with some luck and hard work the country will continue its growth and development into the future, not the least for its youth’s sake.

9 – 12 SEPTEMBER 2011

ILHA DE MOZAMBIQUE

UNESCO World Heritage Site

The bus fills gradually and by 9.30am we’re off with only a few police roadblocks with the last one giving us the most trouble. A couple of back seats have been paid for and are being used to transport ten long boxes of hundreds of tiny chirping chickens. Now when they are loading them on, I do consider the risk of avian flu but they do provide a pleasant background noise. One policeman takes immediate exception to this cargo and tells the passengers that it is illegal for chickens and people to travel together.

On the bridge to the island, on a matolo

Everyone remains silent as the driver and jockey try pleading their case. The policeman comes back on board to tell us all off for allowing it to happen in the first case and one passenger answers that they have no rights. The policeman takes exception to this and assures everyone that they should immediately report such cases as these to the police straight away. RIGHT! AS IF anyone in their right mind would give up their seat while a bus is loading, to go and report the ‘crime’.  Meanwhile my seat buddy buys up snacks all along the way and insists on feeding me – like I need it – but so kind, eh?

We eventually reach the island’s bridge – all 3.5 kms of it and change over to a small matolo because the bridge cannot take the weight of the minibus. With this move one lady discovers she has lost a 10kg back of maize and there is much fretting about this but nothing anyone can do about it. Another man starts telling me that the muslims here hate the Christians – he is a Christian here with his church to paint houses… what can you say to such statements other than to nod your head and wish them luck I guess.  I eventually locate Ruby’s Backpackers – it is FABULOUS!!

Owners are away and friends are looking after it ans are oh so friendly. There is a great kitchen so I can cook up the produce I bought on the train ride, the dorm is fantastic, the rooftop terrace is amazing and the music is always good.  WOW and after a few hours of walking around I find the island is FABULOUS too.

The crumbling edifices remind me of Havana, the winding sandy laneways remind me of Yazd in Iran and the nicest time to walk is late afternoon and early evening when everyone is sitting out catching a cool breeze, chatting to neighbours, children playing games in the streets and stores slowly closing up for the night. Add in the lovely Portuguese language, a full moon and warm weather it is all added up to a fantastic place to visit. There is the daily walk to the fish market to choose between a fresh fish or prawns or a lobster to cook up with my fresh vegies. And when the sellers are down tho the last kg or so they come knocking at the backpackers to see if mzungus will buy.

Unfortunately I am beginning to suffer – a bottle of decongestant I bought in Lusaka is all but finished and still I’m coughing. I visit the pharmacy here, cough for him and he suggests a week’s worth of amoxicillin. I take it and after a few days find some symptoms easing so I hope for the best. Meanwhile Tony, he of the sim card in Nampula is ringing me evry day but I am as bad here as at home and rarely hear the phone if I have it with me so I miss his calls. He takes to messaging me every day to declare unswerving love and ask when I am returning to Nampula. I give him open answers, which here in Africa is very acceptable – better than telling the truth.

The days pass quietly and peacefully walking form one tip of the island to the other – it is only 3 kms long and only 500m at its widest point. Stonetown has many interesting buildings that include an old hindu temple, disused banks, colonial administration buildings and every corner is another view where yesterday at a different time of day it was different. I really love the mixture of Portuguese, indian and muslim cultures colliding peacefully enough although the majority of people are also desperately poor here. I am very happy I made the effort to get here and it has been more than generously repaid in the sights, sounds and general atmosphere I have found here. If you ever get a chance, go to Ilha de Mocambique – exotic and lovely, palm trees and the biggest, most ornate hospital I have ever seen. Old mansions, churches and military installments.

FACT: Vasco de Gama landed at Mozambique Island over 500 years ago, in 1498 on his way to India. The Fort of Sao Sebastiao is the oldest and most complete fort still standing in sub Saharan Africa and its Chapel of Nossa Senhora de Baluarte was built in 1522 and considered to be the oldest European building in the southern hemisphere.  The Palaceio de Sao Paulo is dated from around the early 1610 and contains an altar built in Goa by chinese artists. There are two towns on the island – Stonetown where stately buildings and churches slowly age into decay and Makuti town, meaning straw town, where indigenous folk were forced to live under thatched roofs. Makuti town is also built very low, metres below the road level showing the amount of rock removed by slaves to build the Fort, Palace and Stonetown for the Portuguese during their occupation

Vasco, himself

The Palacio

aaahhhhhhh

Straw/thatch at Macuti Town