Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty, well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming WOW, WHAT A RIDE!!!

Come along and explore the allure of Kili. Join us in the warmest winter we’ve known. Sail with Pirates in a Dhow. See beautiful Zanzibar, the Spice Island. Meet the people and enjoy the places of Tanzania with us. See some of the most gorgeous scenery in the world. We hope that when you finish this chapter of our Journal you’ll say, “WOW, WHAT A RIDE!

Kilimanjaro to Malawi

Why Kilimanjaro? Picture a 12-year-old boy sitting in a darkened theatre in Spokane, Washington in 1952. Hemmingway’s “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” leapt off the silver screen in living Technicolor and into his mind, never to leave, always to pose the question, “How can there be a place in tropical Africa where there’s snow, all year round”? He knew that someday he had to go there, he had to see it for himself. And now, he has!

January 23, 2004
The Climb Begins
Moshi, Marangu Gate to Mandera Hut

Our last breakfast before the climb. We sat on the patio and stared toward Kili as we ate. A gal, Beatrice from Switzerland, struck up a conversation. She has been up, not to the top but up, several years ago. A dermatologist, she used to live here in Moshi, and is back for a meeting and holiday.

The bikes and bags are safely stored and locked in a room off the hallway. The driver from Mauly, Donald, picked us up at 8:30 and the adventure begins. I took the CDs of pictures and the DVD to the Poste and sent them off to Web-master Wally. The Postal Clerk, Sharill questioned the contents and when I told him he demanded to know more about a bicycle trip around the world. He wants to be an e-mail pal. I ran back across the street and got a card for him.

Our guide Genesis slipped into the seat behind us. The Porters, Johnson who is an assistant guide, Salvo, Rafael and Rama jammed into the back along with the bags and supplies. The drive to the Park gate is a steady, at times steep climb to 1980 meters. (6534 feet)

It took about an hour to get for the Porters to get organized while I picked out rain pants, boots and gloves from the clothing rental place there. The only pair of boots that came close to fitting was too tight then the fellow there pulled the insoles out. I had toe room, we were on our way, up!

The distance is only 7.2 kilometers but the vertical is 700 meters or about 2400 feet. The walk is not demanding in fact it’s a pleasant stroll through a tropical rain forest. The walking trail is steep at times but well maintained. Time passed quickly as we sauntered and talked. Genesis is a wealth of information. He takes his position seriously and has tried to learn the answers to the questions we and other trekkers have. Rain spit down on us a time or two. There are two different kinds of monkeys that inhabit this area but we saw neither. They had packed box lunches, which were okay, but the best of it was just sitting in this gorgeous place and talking with Genesis.

We did experience our first casualty shortly after starting. Our Porter, Rafael, fell ill and after sitting, resting for a while he decided to return to the gate. Genesis filled us in and assured us that they had already replaced him. Porters are allowed to carry up to 25 kilograms so it isn’t like they can divide the load. Rafael went down and Turo came up to take over.

Our second loss was Cat’s sunglasses. She is taking Genesis’s advice about drinking plenty of water but that necessitates lots of stops in the trees. On one such she thinks they fell off while she was in full squat. We backtracked and looked but one bush begins to look just like all the others. Genesis pulled a funky old pair out of his pack and handed them to her. There are two lessons here for us. 1. Genesis is always prepared for any emergency, and 2. These glasses like so much of the equipment the Guides and Porters have was either donated or left behind accidentally by former trekkers. Lost in the Jungle

The Mandara Huts are in a lush setting. They’re A-Frame structures with 2 huts, back to back under each roof. They were designed and built by Norwegians. We had to sign in and were assigned hut number 5. Each hut has 4 single beds, two that bunk up on the back wall and one on each side just above floor level. The toilet is a walk down a narrow pathway.

After settling in and savoring a cup of tea Genesis took us up to Maundi Crater, 300 or so meters above Marangu. A good view of both mountain peaks above when it’s clear but for us, the clouds made it an exercise in acclimatization. Genesis says that he likes to end each day with a short climb up then back down. The crater is now overgrown with grass and trees but the indentation is obvious. It speaks of the power Mother Nature exerted here in creating this obstacle that so many feel compelled to challenge.

Dinner is cooked by Johnson and served by Salva. We just have to find the checkered cloth and sit. Potatoes and a vegetable sauce plate to pour over them. Tasty and filling. We were in the hut on the bunks and ready for sleep by 8:30.

About Genesis

During our walking and talking we asked about his life, here is a little of what we learned. His Father was a teacher and Christian but his job took him away and he ended up married to another woman as well as Genesis’s Mother. He couldn’t really afford to support all his dependants so that put a lot of pressure on his first born son, Genesis. His Mother was ill with a heart problem so, as eldest son, he had to help support her and pay her medical bills. By the time he had enough earnings to get her into the Hospital it was too late. She died in 1984. Genesis is 50 years old and trying to make a career change. If he can get money enough together to buy a Land Rover he’ll start freelancing as a Safari Guide.

How does one become a Guide on this mountain? Genesis was already involved in a career but wanted to try the climb. He bribed a Guide to take him up as a Porter. He was fit and played tennis so was sure he could handle the load. However the 25 kilos (about 55 pounds) felt like a ton on his head. He talked with the Guide and they let him carry the big box full of bread. It looked impressive but was light enough for him to handle.

That tour company specialized in German tourists. Genesis could speak English and picked up a little German. He could communicate and understand better than the Guide. After that experience he knew that he wanted more but didn’t think he was strong enough to make the grade. Then, the Tour Operator called and asked him to accompany another group. He didn’t learn until later that the first group had written a letter to the Boss about how much they liked him and how his language skills had helped them have a great experience. That was in 1992 and he has led groups up 64 times since.

Interesting, he thinks his strength lies in his knowledge of the mountain and language skills. We believe it’s in his ability to relate to people, wouldn’t you know that his previous work was in sales. A great guy and now, a good friend.

January 24, 2004
Marangu to Horombo Hut

Not a very restful night, Cat had to go twice but the sounds of monkeys and lord knows what else kept her near the hut. Luckily there are some bushes just under it. The idea wasn’t original, she saw lots of toilet paper, probably left by the less than hearty group of French women staying upstairs. Well their defense as well as Cat’s, it is dark as pitch and pretty scary out there. (Those girls are here with their company. They walked up to this hut today but will go back down and onto a Safari tomorrow. They are smoker, drinker type partiers, not trekkers.)

We awoke at 6:00 AM. Incredible, 10 hours sleep. Salva knocked and left a basin of warm water at our door at 6:30. Cat rinsed off then I shaved on the front step with out the help of a mirror. We had a light breakfast at 7:30 and were on the trail by 8:10. Genesis sets a slow pace and that suits us just fine. There is a German group of 11 and a couple, he’s Moldavian she German. They left after we did and all passed us by.

We fell in with a Russian gal, Ludmila. She is probably more interested in the flowers and plants than the mountain. Genesis has a little book and looks up the names of the plants and animals. He began to share with her. Later Genesis told us that her guide thinks that she isn’t eating or drinking enough water. He fears she’ll get sick. Awe, just to shake our confidence, as we rounded a corner in a slight drizzle one of the famous Kili stretchers pulled up and the rescue team took a quick rest. They set the single wheel stretcher on its end. The guy on board was sort of propped up in standing position. He opened his eyes and looked directly at me. I asked how he was and held his thumbs up. Then he rolled his eyes and closed them tight, again. No pictures because of the rain, darn it. He would probably have wanted one, once he feels better.

 

It's Johnson

Onward and upward, we sat in the rain and ate our box lunches. The rain continued off and on all afternoon. It moves in and out quickly.

We were first out this morning and last in this afternoon. We feel good and slow is okay with us. It was 4:45 when we reached Horombo Huts. They are similar to those at Mandara. Same drill, too. Cat signed us in and got the key for hut H-13. We are directly behind the dining hall.

During the Kili Tea and sweet biscuits tradition Genesis picked up our LPGB and discovered the pictures of African animals identified by their common and Latin or scientific names. He was excited, this is info he needs to learn to help him into his Safari Guide career. We loaned him the book, he’ll study while we spend our two nights here acclimatizing. We won’t go out again this evening but we’ll take a hike up to Zebra Rock and back tomorrow.

The dining hall was jammed. We couldn’t believe a guy we saw sitting near the door in shirtsleeves and sandals without sox? We were shivering and as the sun sank it got colder and colder. We found our tablecloth and were seated when the underdressed guy, Wayne from Orlando, Florida, sat at his assigned spot just across from us. He had just come down and was feeling weak. He apologized for not being a good table conversationalist but he felt terrible. Having just finished that sentence he looked up and said, “I’m going to be sick” then wretched and spewed vomit on the table, the bench and his leg.

You know from earlier writings that I hate to throw up and there is little we can do to help. We jumped up and I went looking for his Guide. Salva joined the hunt when I explained what had happened. He also grabbed another table and moved out things. Poor Wayne, he just sat and stared, I went back to see how he was doing and he said, “Bet you haven’t had table entertainment like that before”. I told him that I’d been table entertainment like that before, myself. He felt better and his Guide joined him so I retreated to dinner.

Still worried about Wayne we stopped by on our way out. He said that throwing up made him feel better. We talked about seeing him in the morning but he told us they were scheduled to leave at sunup, he wants to get down and out of here. Strange, nobody, not his Guide or Porters, nor any of the staff at Horombo ever made a move toward cleaning up the mess. In fact it was still there, on the bench and floor, the next morning when we went in for breakfast.

The clouds had rolled in and out earlier but, as we walked to our hut, the sky was crystal clear and full of stars. The air was crisp and cold. The lights of Moshi twinkled like a carpet of diamonds far below. We were snuggled into our sleeping bags by 8:00 PM.

Sunday, January 25, 2004
Acclimatization at Horombo

A toilet trip for two at 2:00 AM. It was cold, crisp and the thousands of stars and lights of Moshi continued to glow and light the path. Cat snoozed but I had trouble getting back to sleep. We lay and listened to our hearts pound. We are both having accentuated heart rates. Blame it on the altitude, 3720 meters or 12,976 feet.

Another urgent call to toilet at 6:00 AM and no further sleep. We did lay in then take a little walk around the camp at 7:00. Salva brought the basin of hot water at 7:30, we both washed up and I shaved, again on the steps of the hut.

Cat talked with a German guy just as he came down and into Horombo. He told her that he’s been at the top at sunrise. It was his first time at that altitude and his first bout with altitude sickness. He said, “It was great, very dangerous but great. I was seeing the sun come up and puking and puking”! Fun comes in all sorts of packages to all sorts of different people.

At breakfast we sat across from a young guy from England, Martin, and two girls from Norway, Christine and Erica. They have been to the top and agree that it’s not easy. They have been taking an electrolyte Sports Drink called Maxim and swear that it helped them make the grade. They wished us well and said goodbyes then reappeared and gave us two packets and a partially used can of their Sports Drink Powder. Camaraderie among climbers!

Our morning was a climber, up to a place they call Zebra Rocks. Genesis tells a story about a guy who decided that it would be cheaper to haul supplies up on donkeys instead of Porters. He got as far as Zebra Rocks and the last of his three donkeys keeled over and died. The rocks are named thus because of the stripes, not the donkeys. The trek was easy, we seem to be adjusting pretty well to the over 4100 meters (13,600 feet) altitude. We both wore our rental boots for the first time. They felt okay. Nine German trekkers caught us there and I took a group picture for them. They’ll be climbing to Kibo tomorrow, too. We were back at Horombo and ready for lunch by noon.

Genesis, Johnson and Salva joined us for lunch. It was a good round table discussion. Genesis has decided to have both of them accompany us to the summit. They are both trying to get experience and move up in rank to guides. Johnson is already an assistant Guide. The five of us tasted the Maxim in hot water. Cat and I like it a lot better than hot tea. Genesis really liked it but the other two felt like they’d stick with the Liptons.

Horombo is full this afternoon, a group of 53 Brits accompanied by 90 Porters and Guides arrived this afternoon. There is a group of tent campers setting up near the huts. They camped on top, in the crater last night. It sounded miserable to us. Matt, a young guy from San Diego, California, told of his climb last night. His water froze and he went without for more than 2 hours. He was tired and weak but thrilled that he’s made it. A young couple from Britain walked up, they had just come from Mandara in only 4 hours, it had taken us 7 to do the same distance. Horombo Huts

The skies darkened, the wind blew. Thunder echoed through the canyons and lightening bantered about through the clouds. We watched out the tiny window of our hut then spent most of the afternoon snuggled up in our sleeping bags. It was cold! Cat suffered a touch of the Guff-Guff.

The dinner dining hall was jammed. A group of guys from Finland were seated next to us. They had just made the decent this afternoon. They had lots of advice and tips for us. We think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be and we’re anxious to get up and back down. The altitude really gets to us. (A line from the song “Up on a Tight Rope” that Leon Russell sang.)

Genesis came in and set the plan for tomorrow, 6:30 AM wakeup, breakfast at 7:00 and the Kibo assault starts at 7:30. The big British group is here on a fund raising adventure. They each had to get 2,500£ pledges to qualify for the trek. (About $3,500 US) Some of them don’t look very fit, the next two days could be tough ones for them. The non-profit is called SCOPE, the money is to pay expenses for kids who have Cerebral Palsy.

We were back at the hut, in the bags and asleep by 8:15 PM.

January 26, 2004
Horombo Hut to Kibo Hut

Hard to believe that you can sleep well at 13,000 feet but we did. Cat stirred a few times early on, she was being bitten by high altitude bed bugs? That was our best guess. We finally pulled her sleeping bag apart and sprayed with repellent. That was our last waking memory.

Salva delivered the warm water basin at 6:30 AM. We were already up, half packed, and ready to climb. Cool eggs, cold white bread for breakfast and we were off. Nice cool weather this morning. We are now in the desert zone. Once again Genesis set the “pole, pole” pace. We ascended through rocks and small scraggly brush. The paths are very well maintained and we see little garbage. Once in a while we see a plastic wrapper or those terrible little blue plastic strips that top off the water bottles. We stopped often to pick them up and stow them in our pockets. We’ll throw them away, later. The Porters are required to weigh their supplies and garbage when they leave camp in the morning and again when they arrive at the next station. They carry the garbage along with them the entire trip, up then back to the gate at the bottom. We have been pretty impressed with the organization of the park regarding cleanliness and the rules that govern our Porters and Guide.

Our greatest disappointment was in learning about the small dollars they are paid. Although we learned what we know now through hearsay we are beginning to believe what we’re hearing. (My friend and Attorney, Richard, has a big rock in his office with these words chiseled into it, “Hearsay, though etched in stone, is still hearsay”.) It may only be rumors but we’re beginning to understand the economics of Tanzanian Trekking. Most of the chitchat among trekkers is about how much the Guides and Porters are paid and how much they expect to earn through tips. Our best info is that Genesis probably gets 25,000 T Shillings and the Porters get 13,000 for the 6 days. This seems like slave wages to us? Especially for the porters who work so hard carrying the food, water, pot & pans, garbage, AND their own personal belongings ON THEIR BACKS! Then, when we reach camp and crash they cook and serve us dinner.

These guys are virtually, totally dependent on customers tips. This seems unfair, we’ve already spent more than our budget to make this journey. Now we’re beginning to feel compelled to tip another $100 or more? We suppose that it’s all about supply and demand, the capitalist way. If they’re willing to work for next to nothing in the hopes that they’ll make it up in tips, why should a tour operator pay anything?

Ludmila, our Russian flora friend came down toward us. She had skipped the extra day and forged upward without rest or acclimatization. She did climb almost half way to the summit becoming ill and turning back. She’s happy, she’s off to Zanzibar Island for sea level and sun! For us the wind howled it’s ominous warning as the temperature dropped. We continued our “pole pole” (slow, slow) journey. Sana and Mohammed, a couple seated near us at dinner last night, caught up with us. She asked, “Aren’t you the people riding bikes around the world? We overheard you telling about your trip at the dinner table last night”. We walked together for a while, they’re from Boston, Massachusetts, he’s a Doctor and she works with a non-profit assisting the homeless. They’re young, dedicated and fit walkers, they moved on ahead. Two Chinese guys also passed us. They work at the Chinese Embassy in Burundi. One of them didn’t look very good and said that he felt sick.

 

Getting High

The wind chill made the temperature feel like it was plummeting. As you approach Kibo Hut the summit looks close enough to reach out and touch. The trail above zigzags up in loose gray shale. The snowcap, ice and almost vertical path look daunting from this angle. It’s a mere 4 kilometers but Genesis says it will take us 7 hours to reach Uhuru. The thought of climbing there in the pitch black of night with ice on the ground doesn’t feel very inviting.

We registered then went to our “dorm room”. Sana, Mohammed and a German guy, had already made themselves at home. He was lying on a lower bunk, resting and dreaming of Uhuru Peak. The 4 of us chatted while we had hot energy drink and popcorn, and tried to convince each other that we were going to all make it to the top! Cat was chilled to the bone and crawled into her sleeping. She was wearing all the warm clothes she had. Even with her Maasai blanket on her feet she was shaking and shivering. This is not a good sign, she just doesn’t do well in cold. Though I wasn’t as cold my head was beginning to throb.

Mohamed is a Doctor, a General Practitioner at a hospital in Boston. He was a very popular guy. One of the Chinese guys came knocking first, asking for help. His partner was throwing up and throwing up. Mohamed went with him but told him that it was due to altitude and the only cure was to get back down the hill. (We heard later that the well one did make Uhuru, the other left Kibo at midnight and went back down in the darkness. He must have really felt terrible.) Then it was a German guy in the group that we have been leading or following for the past 4 days. He was in agony but wanted to continue. Dr. Mohamed’s prognosis was the same for him and his prescription again was lower altitude. Several others sought his advice then went on with their plans in spite of the aches, pains and sickness.

The four of us also climbed into our sleeping bags. We rested and talked until the Porters brought dinner. Ours was COLD pasta and COLD potatoes. They don’t have a good way to transport the hot food across from the kitchen area. They sleep and cook in a building about 30 yards from Kibo Hut. The wind must be at least –10 Celsius and it almost put a thin layer of ice on the food as it was transported. Appetites were hard to find. Cat refused to get out of her bag so I took a plate to her.

Genesis came in at 7:00 and we talked about our plan. He has two thermoses of hot water coming so that we will have plenty of the hot energy drink with us. He did a little pep talk then we stacked our hands, white, black, white, black, white and did a little cheer. We were a team, we were determined, and we would go to Uhuru.

He hadn’t been gone 10 minutes when, as we tried to relax and get a little sleep, Cat started experiencing an exaggerated heart rate. As I tried to calm her, my head began to throb then felt like it had a band of steel tightening around it. We tried to relax but between the pounding heads and hearts it was impossible. Then, I began to feel that old familiar feeling, arrhythmia, an irregular heartbeat. Remember our days on the bikes when I felt so weak because of this? It was back in Minnesota that a good Doctor convinced me to take Metaprolol and that was the last time I have felt this way, until now. I really hate the feeling and the way it drains me of my strength. So here we were, Cat shivering and experiencing rapid heart rate and me, my head pounding and my heart doing flip flops.

Mohamed and Sana seemed to be sleeping until we had to make a toilet call. What an ordeal, we had to find our boots then pull on the big coats and gloves. In the process Sana woke up and decided to join us. Mohamed was now awake and stayed to bolt the door to keep out the cold wind. We have struggled with the door most of the evening. Every time someone came in or out it blows open and chills the already cold room down another –10 or more degrees. Sana walked with us through the bone chilling wind to the harsh concrete floors of the “Long Drop” squatter toilets. Once again our headlamp and little flashlight came in very handy.

Cat now sought medical advice from Dr. Mohamed. He listened to her story and her heart then said, “As a Doctor I must advise you not to climb any higher but, as an adventurer I feel that you could go onward if you carry your medications, especially the Nitro tablets. Also, try to get a cylinder of oxygen from the staff to carry with you.

We avoided a final decision and lay back waiting for the 11:00 PM call to climb. I lay thinking that we’d come a long way to turn back and maybe the oxygen might be enough insurance to keep us headed up? The more I thought the worse the feeling that a steel band was tightening around my head got.

At 11:00 Genesis came in and shook everyone out of their sleeping bags. I half-heartedly asked about oxygen and pretty much knew that they wouldn’t have any. I also knew by then that we weren’t going on, we’d had it. Genesis seemed a little disappointed but agreed that it was our bodies and we should listen to them. We shook hands and wished Mohamed and Sana good luck then bolted the door behind them and crawled back into our bags. It was close to impossible to get to sleep. Breathing was a struggle and the other maladies continued to plague us both.

January 27, 2004
Kibo Hut DOWN to Mandara Hut

A knock on the door at 4:00 AM. Sana was back, she began to throw up then got dizzy and hallucinated. She said that she looked back toward Kibo and could see Angels flying up from the toilet lights. One of their Porters came back with her. Mohamed continued his quest for the top. Fully clothed, she crawled into her sleeping bag and covered her head.

At 7:00 Salva came to awaken us but we were awaiting his call. He brought cold toast and a thermos of hot water for coffee. Mohamed came in while we were eating. He was first to the top and the first back down. Though he didn’t get to Uhuru, nobody did. It was super cold and the wind was howling. He did have some sickness, too but hurried back to make sure that Sana was okay. Man, he is fast!

We began to pack. When Cat pulled out the towel the camera took a big fall to the cold, hard cement floor. Parts flew off, the battery fell out, even the CD went flying. I had wrapped it when we were still planning on climbing to keep it from freezing. It’s a goner, the LED screen is cracked and there is a piece of the cover missing that protects the CDs. We agonized at the loss for a few minutes then the need to get out of this altitude consumed us.

We did see a beautiful sunrise from above the clouds, just not from the summit. Neither of us felt that badly about not having made the final climb. We’d seen Kili up close, no reason to let her KILL us. This little side trip shouldn’t leave us unable to continue our Odyssey. We didn’t have the strong desire that allows you to override warnings and sickness to succeed. We enjoyed a stunning morning in the high altitude sunshine as we began our decent.

I felt terrible, my head continued to throb and the flippy floppy heart drained me of energy. Cat was soon on the road to recovery, each step we took found her feeling better. As for me, I felt weak and each step was a challenge. I wanted DOWN. Trekking, even going down, is a slow and arduous process. The sun took the cold away and we began to shed layers of clothing. I walked ahead and thought of being in the warm, lower altitudes. Cat and Genesis walked behind and kept up a constant chatter.

We’ve decided that Trekking isn’t our game. Going down presents new difficulties. The couple we met in Arusha, volunteers Michael and Shelli, said that most of the people they talked with that had made the climb said that they’re most lasting memory was in the toenails that they lost while descending. I began to feel the pressure with each step I took in those all too small hiking boots. It was a slow, bone jarring, tedious experience.

It was Noon when we arrived at Horombo Hut our guys, had fried bananas, chips and soup waiting for us. Genesis asked if we felt like continuing rather than spending the night at Horombo? Our bodies were tired but we wanted down! So, full of warm food and a desire to get to an altitude that our bodies can handle, we set off for Mandara. Genesis estimated that it would take 4 to 5 hours.

Toes on both of my feet are taking a beating. We continued our slow, tedious, bone- jarring journey downward. The food did have a positive affect and we both felt better. The air seems to thicken as we dropped below 3,300 meters, 10,000 feet. The walk to Mandara and 2,700 meters, 8,910 feet took longer than Genesis had suggested. It was 5:30 PM by the time our aching feet and stiff legs got us there.

Confusion, though Genesis said that he’d called to make sure we would have a Hut, the camp was full. We were relegated to spending the night with another person, a guy from the Netherlands. As tired and sore as we were I went to the office and argued with the Manager. It was to no avail and didn’t even make me feel any better. He couldn’t give us something he didn’t have?

Stef, the climber from Holland, wasn’t that keen on having company in his hut either. He’d already spread his gear on the bunks and had to re-organize to accommodate us. Europeans seem to understand sharing better than we spoiled Americans. He suggested that he would be going to dinner shortly and we would have privacy. Actually, we aren’t bathing and we’re sleeping in our long underwear so there isn’t an issue of privacy.

Spit baths and we were off to dinner. Stef passed us on his way back to Hut 5. The dinner was pretty much left overs from the original store of food. We were back at the Hut by 8:00 PM.

Stef was already lying down, reading a book. He’s here to celebrate his 50th birthday. This has been a dream of his for a long time. We relate well to dreams as well as physical and mental challenge. Stef has been working out for years. He takes a handful of vitamin and mineral pills daily. His wife isn’t here because she has an injury. He manages a team for ING Bank and seems as driven in business as he is on this quest to conquer Kili. He’s even taking some sort of pill to help ward off altitude sickness. He is very confident and save a terrible, debilitating problem with altitude he will climb to Uhuru.

We were all laying, looking at the rough board ceiling by 9:00 PM. Sleep came much easier for us at under 2700 meters, 8900 feet! While Stef dreamed of conquering the mountain our heads were full of cycling, beaches and the experiences of the rest of our African Odyssey.

January 28, 2004
Mandera Hut to Hotel Impala Back to Civilization

The 3 of us were up early! Stef, ready to climb and we, ready to head down and out. Stef’s porter was at the hut and had his breakfast ready to go by 7:00 AM. For us the service seemed to break down on our final day together. No wake up call, no bucket of warm water. We waited then packed and walked to the dining hall. I set out on a search and found Salva. He apologized, they had over slept. We know that they’re tired, too. Our legs are so stiff that we had a hard time climbing the stairs. We sat with Stef and offered our encouragement. We shook hands then hugged like old friends. He walked out toward his destiny amid promises of Internet messages and continued communication.

Anxious, we wolfed down our food and loaded up for the final decent. Just out of Camp we came upon a tribe of monkeys. They put on a great show, swinging from the tree branches and cavorting around on the ground. We got some video and truly enjoyed the moment with nature. I felt much better but we were both too stiff to gallop down the rocky path. Genesis wanted to talk about the trip and get our feelings about how the Porters are paid. His main point was to debrief, see how we enjoyed the trek. See if the service was what we had expected it should be.

Genesis is a genuine good guy. He has ideas about forming a Foundation to supply 3 wheel bicycles for the physically disabled. He wants us to be involved because we travel by bicycle. We promised to let LandRider know about the needs that exist here in Tanzania. Also, there is a non-profit company that earns money by bringing cycle tourists to Africa and uses the profits to provide bicycles to needy Africans. I will try to get them connected, too.

We were strolling, Pole Pole, as usual. The time flew by as we walked and talked. Then from behind, familiar voices. Mohamed and Sana had caught us. They left Horombo early this morning and decided to do the distance in one day. They want to get out on the savannah and on Safari. Youth and stamina are great assets for trekking. They slowed and kept our pace the rest of the way. We really chattered, like those monkeys we’d seen earlier. At the gate, Mohamed received his Certificate of achievement for having reached the summit. The rest of us just signed out and thanked the Park Rangers. This was a wonderful feeling, we had been in the elements and altitude for 6 days and were ready to move on.

Mohamed and Sana lagged behind, buying souvenirs. Though our car was there we had to wait for our German roommate. He had also summated and was on his way down. Since he was a Mauly Tours client we had to wait. We sat on the grass and ate the vestiges of lunch that had survived the entire trek. We reminded Genesis that most of the trekkers spend most of their time talking about how much to tip the Guide and Porters. We chose to pay Johnson and Salva 25,000 each 20,000 each to the other guys. Of course, we were in love with Genesis so we upped our anti to 60,000 for him. He has been a trove of info and a treasure to be with. Originally we were prepared to follow the Lonely Planet’s suggestion and give each guide 15,000 T Shillings and the Guide 40,000 to 60,000. (Remember, the US Dollar is about 1000 T Shillings.) So, we were into the trip another $150 US. If you’re thinking of going up, you should be prepared to spend almost $1,500 for the 6 days. (Oh yes, if you need equipment throw in another $75 for rental.) This was definitely way over our budget but again, one of those once in a lifetime experiences.

At last, the very tired and weak German guy came in and we were off to Moshi. The first stop was Mauly Tours showed up and off we were. First stop, the Mauly Office to sign out as clients. They wanted a debriefing but Cat wanted a shower. We promised to send an e-mail with our comments. I ran next door and checked e-mails. Cat made a quick trip to the market for wine, it’s been a long, dry week!

The Impala had reserved the same wonderful room for us. The AC spewed cold air into the warmth. We hit the TV switch, hungry for some news. No CNN or BBC? I called and the desk apologized, the room is in an area that is having wiring problems. They did try to fix the problem then offered to move us to another room. Disappointed, I followed him to a room upstairs. It felt uncomfortable so we moved back down and to a smaller room. I hated the room but it did have AC and TV.

Tired, hot and sweaty, we took it though we had been looking forward to a big bed and it had twins. The staff helped us move our bags, we got a shower and sipped our first glass of wine. That did sooth things a bit but Cat was peeved that the rate for the tiny room was the same as our old favorite. Even dinner was a stressful event. Cat ordered a dish with an herb sauce that turned out to be tomato, which she doesn’t eat.

Awe well, the beds felt so much better than the Hut Bunks and sleeping bags that we had trouble keeping our eyes open to watch a little news. Lights out, before 9:00 PM.

**Sorry, Broken Camera, NO PICTURES until February 11**

January 29, 2004
A Fantastic Day at Hotel Impala

We were so sore from the walk down the hill, that we were definitely resting our legs today. While we were having breakfast the young man who helped us the first day asked how we were doing and we replied that we were fine, but a little disappointed in having to change rooms. He said, after breakfast you find me and I will show you another room. We found him and he led us into a huge, beautiful suite. The bathroom was huge with a tub and shower! We happily moved everything again and were delighted since the price was the same! Cat immediately took a nice long shower and got all of our things organized. I set up “shop” and started typing about our Kili expedition. Cat went exploring for water and picnic stuff and just to see what the neighborhood had to offer. She returned with water, and reported that there was little else around. We had our picnic lunch sitting on our patio overlooking the pool.

The Hotel has a car that took us into town for $3.00. We cleared e-mail messages and wrote to the family. That burned up more than 2 hours. We taxied back to the hotel, relaxed and had dinner. We tried their version of Chinese cuisine, which wasn’t that great. The restaurant here is a far cry from the one at the Impala in Arusha. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same company. Awe well, we’re in Africa.

January 30, 2004
Another, Even Better Day at Impala

Today is CASH day. We will need enough to carry us through a couple of weeks between ATMs or Banks. We asked the Impala to advance cash on our Visa card but they declined. We stretched our limit on Visa Card Cash Advance and now need an ATM. We discussed our dilemma over a good breakfast, outside near the pool. Our only real option is to get back to Arusha and the Barclays Bank. The Impala Hotel operates a shuttle service to and from Arusha. Cat volunteered to make the money run while I tried to finish our Journal pages while she shuttles back and forth. Jerry, the Impala Manager, offered to drive her to the Shuttle Office. The trip is a 3-hour turn around. Cat got a ticket then hustled to the Internet Café and bought new sunglasses along the way.

Back and on board, the bus pulled out right on time, 12:00 noon. Her plan was to get to Arusha, get the cash and have lunch before the return trip. Unfortunately, they had booked students at the International School just up the street. School was still in session, they waited in the bus for 40 minutes. This really cut into Cat’s time plan. She would only have a 30-minute turnaround there. When they reached the Arusha Impala Cat asked the bus driver if he’d drop her at Barclays Bank. Just as he agreed a woman stuck her head in the bus door and told her that the bus to Moshi was leaving, right then. Cat explained our need for cash and the entire bus journey she’s just made to get it.

The woman took her to the waiting bus, turned to the driver and said, “You must take this lady to Barclays Bank before starting back to Moshi. Whew, a very close call. The Shuttle Bus stood idling as she withdrew cash then roared away and headed back.

The close call left Cat hungry and her new sunglasses gave her a headache. She needed food and rest when she got back at 3:30 PM. I took the glasses and ran hot water on them while she ate a sandwich. Snap, I broke them in half. Now those bargain glasses weren’t really that great a bargain. Once in my hands they only lasted a total of 5 hours.

Cat repacked all the bags, while I continued to work on picture placement for the website. Dinner was just fair again, then back to the room for a Jim Carey movie, “The Majestic”. Great movie.

January 31, 2004
Moshi to Mwanga
64 Kilometers

On the road again! Well the morning was invested in journalizing. I was intent upon getting the chapter from Conakry to Kili off to Wally before setting off. Cat got the bikes loaded and ready while I toiled over the picture placement. Finally at 11:30 I went to the computer in the lobby and e-mailed the package to Web-Master Wally.

At last, goodbyes to the friendly staff and we pulled out of the Impala drive and rolled down toward town. By the time we stopped and bid adieu to our friends at Mauly Tours we were both hungry. ChrisBurger, again, Cheeseburgers and fries. It was hot and 1:30 PM by the time we finally started pedaling up the hill and out of Moshi.

We came to a round about and asked a local girl if this was the turn off to Hino. She just sort of stared and squinted. The blank look told us that she wasn’t connecting with our pigeon Swahili. A couple of mzungu girls walked up that understood English. They’re from the US here on a Mission of some sort for a year. They did confirm that the turn to the right was the main road to Hino, Dar es Salaam and points south.

We stayed on the seats, with only an occasional stop for a stretch or trip to the bushes, until 6:00 PM. Mwanga is a dusty wide spot in the highway. Tired, we got soft drinks and sat on the steps of a teleboutique. The girl there told us that the Rhino Hotel mentioned in the Lonely Planet has been converted into a school. Cat looked at a tiny place nearby but it was too small and too dirty and too primitive. The girl told us of a place called Hotel Anjelika but couldn’t find a telephone number or decide on directions to the place. She suggested that a guy lounging nearby would guide us there for 1000 Shilling ($1.00). Exhausted and tired of getting nowhere we hired Omar. He immediately lit up a cigarette, assumed a stature of importance and began leading us down the side street.

He spoke to most of the other passersby as though he was accompanying Royalty. Cat began to get a little nervous about his directions. The road deteriorated to dirt and dust. The passing Matatas stirred up clouds of brown as they roared past. Omar couldn’t communicate with us at all but a sort of slick looking guy sidled up and started a conversation. He assured Cat that we were headed in the right direction. He also chatted with Omar and we began to feel that he was trying to cut himself into the 1000 S. deal. Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he pointed out a sign for Anjelika said goodbye and disappeared into the bush.

Omar puffed on another cigarette and puffed up his chest as he told the staff about leading us there. They were great, they threw open a big metal gate and helped us get the bikes into our room. It was tiny but clean and we have our own toilet and shower, we were pleasantly surprised. Cat called it a haven in an otherwise bad looking place.

It took all of us to lift the bikes in and around to a place that left at least turning around room for us. Three more pleasant surprises, the price is only 10,000 Shilling ($10) and they have a ceiling fan and color TV. They only have one channel and it is constant African Music. Great music to relax and shower by.

We chose to sit inside, away from flying pests, for dinner. The Afro videos continued to blare. The food was good, the wine great. What a stroke of luck. What a HAVEN, as Cat had said.

We think we’ve lost our stamina from trekking and having been off the road. We shut down the videos and hit the pillows before 10:00 PM.

Sunday, February 1, 2004
Mwanga to Same
57 Kilometers

Up at 6:30 AM but not moving too quickly, breakfast at 7:30. It is included but not very much food. I bought a box of Mango Juice to supplement. We were packed and ready to roll by 8:30. We’re back on the road, again!

A goodbye to the nice people there, but few can understand more than, bye, bye. Down the dirt driveway, out and down the dirt street, around the corner onto the other dirt street and we were headed up, to the highway. At one point a Taxi Van came toward us at top speed for the narrow dirt road. I waved and yelled but to no avail. He came close, and the cloud of dust he showered upon us left us choking and gasping.

At the highway a tall lanky guy, bare from the waist up, sort of staggered across in front of us. He seemed to be mentally disturbed, talking to himself as he staggered about. His right leg was swollen, I liken it to pictures I’ve seen of Elephantitus. His ankle was huge. He was obviously known, everyone just sort of ignored him. He walked across and reached into the window of a parked bus. We bought two bottles of water and stood watching as we drank, filled our bottles.

Off, day 2 and we are already feeling tired. The road is up and downs. Long slow ups and downs. We are again riding along the base of the Pare Mountains. The landscape is green but dry. This is probably a brown place later in the year.

There isn’t much traffic, possibly because it’s Sunday? Buses are busy, regardless of the day of week. As we almost crested one of the long pulls a Land Rover passed, honked then pulled over. Robin, a South African, is on an adventure of his own. He started in Sweden, drove north then looped back to the south and has been moving back home, toward South Africa for several months. Robin was a career victim of Tyco International. You remember, the company that went down after Enron. The company whose CEO was taking $300,000,000 a year wages and still felt a need to dip into the til? He was the one who hosted a birthday party for his wife that cost $2,000,000 and paid for it with company funds. Awe, poor guy? Well, his illegal cavorting caused Robin to take and early retirement and set of on his Voyage. He gave us a cold Coke, his last and we spent several minutes comparing travel stories.

A Service Station, more Coke and some cookies. We were looking for energy. We both feel depleted and weak. The nice young boy there says that it’s 20 kilometers to Same. We had planned to get there yesterday until I took the better half of it typing. So, we decided that Same would be it for us, today.

As we rolled in at 1:30 PM a Policeman waved to us. I pulled over and asked him where we would find the Elephant Motel. It and the Amani Lutheran Center are the only 2 mentioned in our guidebook. We decided to go for the Elephant since it may have a glass of wine for us later this evening.

It’s almost out of town, we thought we might have missed it but a couple of guys indicated that we should keep going, until we see the sign. The driveway is dirt. Cat walked, I rode slowly up, under a big tree and parked in the shade. We went in and were greeted by a young girl who could barely see over the bar. The 15,000 Shilling ($15) room is small but adequate. We squeezed the bikes inside and were surprised, almost shocked to see a snowy, fuzzy BBC picture. I went back to the bar and asked the girl, she came to the room and slipped the antennae wire in and voila, BBC in living color.

Lunch, I had a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Cat ordered chicken sandwich but it was small and not too good. The best news, they do have a fair white wine and the price is right, 7,500 T S. We ordered 2 Bitter Lemon drinks and enjoyed listening to our friendly waitresses better than average English language skills.

Showers felt great, we relaxed. Both of our tail ends are scorched with saddle sores. We really have softened this past 2 weeks. A generous application of anti-biotic cream soothed and cooled our affected areas. Cat lay back on the bed, I typed for a while then did the same. We both still feel almost woozy?

The dining room, bar area was crowded with guys, mostly guys watching a soccer game on a fairly large screen TV. Wine and dinner, strange presentation but okay taste for what they called Stroganoff. No noodles like we’d expected but a big clump of good tasting rice in its place.

BBC news and bed by 9:30 PM. We are both getting road weary, already. Maybe still affected by the climb and altitude?

Today’s big news, both George and Tony have conceded to independent investigations of the faulty intelligence that led to the Iraq war.

February 2, 2004
Same to Mombo
115 Kilometers

Breakfast, they offer Continental but we supplemented with eggs. Cat had sausage and I had bacon. They had a small bottle of Mango juice that added to the mix. All in all a good send off. Oh yes, lets no forget the monkeys. They were whooping it up for us this morning, making those monkey sounds and swinging in the trees. They watched with interest as we pulled the bikes out and struggled to get them around the walkway.

Off, still in the shade of the Pare (Pa-ray) Mountains on our left. They are imposing, sometimes-sheer cliffs jutting up 2 or 3 thousand feet. Off to the right, the Masai Steppe, flat fairly lush savannah for as far as the eye can see. The lay of the land is flat or down, gently down.

Rain, well more drizzle but we both felt great and it wasn’t wet enough to stop and apply the waterproof. We are making good time, we passed through a town with several possibilities of food. Opting to keep flying was a bad idea. It was 2:00 PM and we were starving by the time we pulled into the wide spot in the road known as Buiko. We turned to a young guy, Nuru for advice and he suggested a little wood shack for food. He is in second year at Mazinda Day Secondary School.

It’s market day in Buiko and there were lots of Maasai Warriors drifting in an out. Several young guys were dressed fit to kill. I tried to get a picture of them but they made it clear that they didn’t want to be a part of our memories. They didn’t ask for money, just put up their hands and covered their faces.

We made a slight right and are now in the shadow of the Usambara Mountains. Though not as dramatic as the Pare they are covered in lush tropical vegetation. For us it just means more ups and downs but they are shorter and less dramatic, too. The clouds hanging above them threatened but never cut loose on us.

Entering Mombo, a place behind a solid wall called The Liverpool Bar and Restaurant drew us in. We sat in the shade, sipped soft drinks and chatted with the locals. They all agreed that the best Hotel in town was Saldina Inn. Following their directions we crossed the bridge and found ourselves in midst of hustle and bustle, busses and Matatas coming and going. Kids, pushing and shoving trying to get their wares up to a bus window and in the face of passengers, potential customers.

The Saldina is down a muddy lane. Cat checked the room and came back saying, “If this is the best I’d hate to see the worst”. The clerk was smiling and helpful though he spoke no English. He led us around back then across a patio and into the interior courtyard. The room was stark and dingy looking but big enough to handle the bikes.

The toilet and bath, both across the courtyard, were even more dingy and in fact kind of slimy. The squatter toilet had an aroma that could be detected long before entering. The showerhead put off a trickle of cold but it was enough to cut through the road grime. We felt fairly clean as we dressed for dinner. No, not our formal wear just long sleeves and pant legs to ward off the Mosquitoes.

Dinner at a place next door called the Midway Express. I walked over to check it out while Cat finished dressing. The waiter sat behind the bar, didn’t move when I came in but looked up and said, “We have only Omelets and Chips or Chicken and Chips”. There’s something about a simple menu that simplifies life.

The tables are all outside and covered. We chose one with an advantages view of the two other groups eating omelets or chicken. We chose chicken. Long sleeves and deet spray didn’t completely repel the little stinging monsters. We ate, slapped and scratched. They did have a bottle of okay wine, the evening was not a total waste.

Back at Saldina we made use of their best features, an oscillating fan and mosquito nets.

February 3, 2004
Mombo to Segera
68 Kilometers

Strange, we were both sure that it would be tough to sleep in the $2.50 room. We made a family toilet run at 11:40 PM. We both lamented because it was still so early.

Thunder, lightening and rain again interrupted sleep, sound sleep. Not just rain but buckets of rain pouring down on the tin roof. It was thunderous in itself to begin with but became soothing. Cat checked to make sure we weren’t taking water then we both went back to sleep, sound sleep.

6:30 AM found us feeling lazy. Our plan to be at Midway Express Restaurant next door for breakfast by 7:30 applied a little pressure on us. Shaving in the bath, I had a couple of knocks on the door.

We were loaded and ready to roll exactly on time. They were opening the gate as we pushed up the street, through the mud. Breakfast as promised, egg, toast and coffee. Cat took a walk looking for bananas, none to be had but she did get some drinks called milky orange and milky mixed fruit. I took the orange, we each tasted both and decided that they were the same, just a different color. Service was slow the food was so-so. We were on the road by 8:30.

I asked the guy at Midway if the roads were open. He didn’t understand. When I asked about bridges or dirt blocking the road he shook his head, “No, is okay, road is okay”.

It’s a slight pull out of Mombo on a slightly damp road. We were surprised at how little water or mud was left on the road from the deluge. In fact within just a few kilometers the road was dry as though it hadn’t even rained?

We both felt strong to start but the hills began to take their toll. Cat called it, we were either coasting down or Granny Gearing it up, there was no in between.

The 43 rolling kilometers to Korogwe were ours by 11:30. With a fading feeling and almost 4 hours since we sat down for breakfast we decided to stop for lunch. The Transit Hotel is just that. A Bus Station, noisy buses, engines roaring, horns blaring, come and go every few minutes. Some stop and the passengers string out in a herd and try to feed before the blaring horn warns of impending departure. We pulled the bikes around back and took a table with bike view. About the same faire as yesterday, rice and meat. The meat was more edible but the price was double. Krest Bitter Lemon for me, Cat stuck with water.

Maybe it’s just day 4 syndrome? Maybe it’s the overcast thick warm air? For some reason we’re both feeling terrible saddle sore problems. We cycled the ups and downs pretty much non-stop to Segera. Well, we did take turns powdering out tails behind a tree. We thought of Albert as we applied the soothing white dust. Remember him, the cyclist pulling a trailer on the Pilgrim’s trail, Santiago del Campostela, in Spain? We wondered what he’s doing right now and if he’s dreaming of getting back out on the trail, again.

As we entered Segera our spirits dampened. It was only 2:00 PM and there was plenty of time to ride on to Muheza and another $2.50 room. A nice man, Albert, who is a teacher, pointed out a place, he called it a shack, where we could get a soft drink. We rolled down then struggled through a big muddy area to get to the porch.

Natasha was cooking coconut with beans and fish. She brought Healtho and Angli drinks and opened them for us. They were okay but the best of the stop was talking with the people, the kids, and resting. Natasha gave us some great news. She says that there’s a Motel just 1 kilometer further up the road. We’re ready to call this one a day.

She was absolutely correct. We pulled up at Segera Highway Motel and Mohamed took Cat to see the room. It has a bath, TV and AC. We really needed this! Our tires are muddy from the stop at Natasha’s so I tried to wash them. A Maasai man, the head of security here, held and pushed the bike. When Cat came back he refused to let her take over, he liked helping.

The room does have all the accoutrements afore mentioned but no electricity so nothing is working? Mohamed said that they have been having some problems today but it will come. I went for a Sprite to settle my rice and meat stomach. Cat hit the shower. The water was cold but clean. The shower is the entire toilet. I came back in just in time to save the toilet paper from the flood.

Power back on but only 2 stations available. One is a soccer game, African Cup action with Egypt and Cameroon going at it. Cat walked down to the office and Mohamed told her that BBC would be on after the game. She said the restaurant is lined with guys, here to watch the game.

I typed a little, Cat checked the restaurant menu. Good news they have Pizza. Bad news, they have no alcohol? Mohamed pointed out a stand where she could get a beer. I typed and we watched the game and sipped our suds. A chameleon scampered down the wall while I typed. We are trying to like the little guys, we know that their job is to eat those pesky mosquitoes.

Dinner in the big open hut dining area was another interesting experience. A herd of chameleon roamed up and down the walls seeking and eating as we ordered. I had pasta and pizza. I needed to recover from the 3 days of skimpy rice and bean diet. Bugs by the thousands began to swarm around the lights above us. Mohamed apologized and told us they would turn them off. When they did it drew most of them toward the flickering TV and a candle they’d placed on the table. Very romantic, but not very appetizing. We had to keep picking the flying creatures, termites we think, from our plates.

February 4, 2004
Segera to Tanga
75 Kilometers

Awe the value of having a TV connection to the world. John Kerry, the Senator from Massachusetts, has won 5 of the 7 states that held primary elections yesterday. The other big news is that the WMD in Iraq probably never existed. I hate to say I told you so BUT-------

The day started with good breakfast in the big outdoor restaurant. We needed fuel and we got some. The included is Continental but we added eggs and sausage. Great and very inexpensive. We are really inside budget for these past 5 days.

As we walked back to the room in the hazy morning sun we came across a huge insect crawling on the sidewalk. The gardener called it a jumbo. It was definitely a centipede and about 8 to 9 inches long. I hope we can get the video of the beast on line for you. It is a sight to behold.

Loaded, we rolled at 9:00 AM, on our way to Pangani and the coast. Up for the first kilometer then down and up and down. The morning was all up and down through little patches of farmland worked by families with hoes and machetes. We think this area looks like Louisiana might have back 100 years ago. Cat thinks the people in the fields almost look like slaves chained to the tiny fields as they turn the red soil by hand.

There are lots of other cyclists on the road, here. Most have panniers of plastic, large yellow containers in which they haul water. Another group, and they often ride in groups and haul large loads of cut grass. On a long pull up, one of them broke from the pack and challenged us. In fact he passed us, standing on the pegs where pedals used to be, in bare feet. He’s probably never heard of Lance Armstrong but for that moment he could have led Lance and the rest of the pack up that hill.

The crossroad turnoff to Pangani and lunch both confronted us in Muheza. The lunch at Hotel Ambassador was pretty good. The place was pretty dreadful. We would have stayed here last night if we’d been able to make the distance. I asked for the toilet and they pointed to a green door across the area behind the Hotel. I had to duck between rows of sheets drying in the sun to get there. It was perhaps the worst toilet I’ve seen or smelled, at least recently. When I got back to our table I recommended that Cat hold it if she was even close to having to go. A nice tree would be preferential. The best of the Ambassador was the rice and beans. We’ve had our share recently but this rice, beans and meat was quite tasty.

Awe yes, then there is the turn off. Cat noticed that the road appeared to be dirt as we rode past. We asked the waitress, she confirmed. Still in disbelief, we asked a couple who drove up out front. They used their best English to tell us that it was dirt and rock and very bumpy. It took us just a few minutes of thought to decide that a muddy rough road wasn’t for us! We’re going to Tanga.

Tanga is north/northeast from here rather than the southeast direction we had planned to take to Pangani. So, it was upward and onward to Tanga. More ups and downs until we reached one hilltop at about 26 kilometers from Tanga. It was hot there, we had just cycled through the banana belt area and were dropping toward the Indian Ocean. Almost instantly the breeze blew softly into our faces, a cooling breeze. At about the same time we picked up a young bike rider, Abdullah. He was soft spoken and spoke no English. His bike was mauve colored and squawked with every turn of the crank. It, along with the clicking of Cat’s broken pedal clip was driving her nuts.

We pulled up to get a drink and let Abdullah move on. He waved as he passed then, as I checked Cat’s pedal he turned and returned. We all left the bus stop together and continued squawking and clicking together. He was a nice guy, we wished that we could communicate with him. Eventually he waved, picked up his pace and left us.

Even though we were on a downhill run we were faced with an uphill wind. Traffic thickened as we neared Tanga. Our LPGB had several suggestions for places to stay. We stopped to quench thirst with Krest Bitter Lemons and get directions. The top of the mid-range Hotel list was Kola Prieto. With a cooler demeanor and fresh info we easily found it. It’s a mid-rise in a pretty mediocre looking neighborhood. A guy came rushing out and invited us in but we declined.

Another look at the book and we choose Hotel Mkonge and asked directions, just around the corner. Then we caught sight of the DHL Office and decided to try to check on our package with a camera from home. There was no way to check without a tracking number. While there we met a guy, Marty, who lives down coast. He’s 7th generation African and has been through several wars and conflicts here. He was a farmer who recently lost his farm in Zimbabwe. You know, Robert Mogobe, the President there has allowed a program of returning land to African natives. The plan is simple, if a white farmer leaves the land the native peoples can claim it. He left his land under threat of death or injury. He’s been living here in Tanzania for 6 months managing a Sisal Estate?

Mkonge is a nice place for 50,000 Shilling ($50 US), which includes breakfast. They won’t let us keep the bikes in our room but locked them in a room just across the hallway. Good shower but it took a long time to get warm water. We reveled in the luxury of a great AC and news from CNN.

Dinner in the Mkonge Dining Room, good food, wine, and a great conversation with Karl, a fellow American from Ohio. He seems to have a lot of irons in the fire. He’s a recruiter for Bowling Green University and places 4 or 5 Tanzanians there on 4-year scholarships. He’s also a farmer, well he has about 3000 acres on a 99-year lease here and does a sort of sharecropper arrangement with local farmers. He says he has tractor, plow and seeder. The farmers take his plowing but prefer to plant by hand, one seed at a time just as they have for centuries.

(A true confession, we thought Marty said he was managing a sizable Estate. Karl filled us in on the rows of plants we’ve been seeing here in the countryside. They’re called Sisal and they make fiber for twine and other fabrics. In fact several Auto manufacturers are researching the use of this natural fiber rather than petroleum based nylons etc. If they do use the more environmentally friendly plants it will be a BOON for Tanga and the surrounding area. Sisal, by the way, originally came from Mexico and is related to the plant from which Tequila is squeezed.)

February 5, 2004
A Day in Tanga

A real lazy beginning, so lazy that we almost missed the included breakfast. They shut it off at 9:30 and we just squeaked under the door. Not bad, some fresh fruit, eggs and sausage (hot dogs).

Our day is to be spent searching for a boat to get us across to Zanzibar. It is a 20-minute walk into town. We stopped first at DHL to get the address of their office in Dar es Salaam. In one of the e-mails last night from Base Camp Charlie we learned that he wasn’t able to find a DHL Office in Dar? The man there, Mr. Maphingo, was great to talk with. He is pretty conservative though. His advice was not to cycle to Kigombe because we could be robbed. Then he backed off by saying that there haven’t been any robberies but there could be. He also advised us not to take a boat, they too are dangerous.

We decided to try to contact Marty, the farmer we met at the DHL office, yesterday. We started out at Click on Line and spent more than 2 hours answering e-mails and got one off to him. Starving, we walked down the street to an India Restaurant and had the last food of the lunch hour. We’re now, 2 for 2. They started hauling tables and chairs inside as we ordered. Pretty good burgers, veggie for Cat and Chicken for me.

Back to the Internet. I waited for a machine, Cat went around the corner. The other place, Internet Cavern, and got a machine. She also ran into Karl, the fellow we met last night. I walked back and began a frustrating hour of trying to get a message written and sent. For some reason their machines didn’t want to work with AOL?

I gave up and went back to Click. Their machine did the trick but it was the same frustrating monster with the sticky space bar that strings words together. No message, yet, from Marty.

Cat made a quick trip to the store for water and wine. We walked back to Mkonge, I typed a little and we sipped wine. No boat deal? No plan for tomorrow?

Dinner in the dining hall, we talked with a couple of guys we’ve seen here and at the Internet Shop. They’re here installing a new Malaria wing at the nearby hospital. The equipment and labor are part of Bill and Linda Gates efforts to fight the worst African disease of all. We remembered seeing an interview about their plans and it’s nice, now, to be witness to the good that it will do.

February 6, 2004
Tanga to Peponi
33 Kilometers or Rough Road

Cat has the itch, she’s ready to go. We still have no plan? Breakfast, even the good fruit and food is starting to feel mundane, it must be time to go. We checked the Internet from the hotel and found a message from Marty, the Zimbabwean we met at the DHL Office. He says that the road is safe, dirt and rock but safe from bandits.

Back in the room we called Nungwi Village Hotel on Zanzibar to see if they had a boat or knew of one. A wasted call, the gal asked a guy then said, “No, we don’t boat”. At $3.00 per minute it was a quick call but minimum 1 minute. The next call was to a closer place, Peponi Holiday Resort. It is near the Sisal Estate that Marty manages and he thought they could find help us find a boat. The guy, Denys, who answered was great. He urged us to come, was sure that we would be able to get a boat and asked if we wanted to camp or stay in one of their Bandas. We chose Banda and conveniences.

The die has been cut, we have a plan and we’re movin’ on. It was 11:00 by the time we were loaded and at the desk, checking out. Yacoub, a fellow I met when we checked in, invited us to call him when we get to Dar es Salaam and have dinner. He is Director of Operations for the National Social Security Fund. They are here, in session in the big meeting room. He is so enthralled with our story that he had their photographer take a picture of the bikes and us with him in between.

As we were departing I caught a glimpse of Karl with a young girl seated in a nearby room. I wanted a picture of him and when I approached he introduced me to Niema, a Tanzanian who is leaving this week on a 4-year scholarship to Bowling Green University, Ohio, USA. She’ll study journalism while there, what a lucky girl is she, what a good guy, is he! What a great program, he says they award 5 scholarships each year

Rollin’ we stopped for water and got directions. The guy who talked with us felt sure that we could find food along the way in a village so with full bottles we moved on. The road through town was busy, cluttered, littered and dusty. We thought that was bad until we reached the end of what the Tanzanians call, “tarmac”. Of course we know that we’d be on dirt but this was tough. They were grading which left only loose dirt and rock. The over laden bikes swerved and slipped. We were finally banished to the pathway along the road that runs in front of the front doors of villager’s homes.

The bike and pedestrian traffic was thick. Cat even collided with a guy carrying 2 big bags of charcoal on his bike. No harm, no fowl. It never got much better. Even after we passed the point where the grading left off the hard dirt had rocks embedded and was so bumpy that we feared breaking spokes or worse, an axle or wheel. Progress was slow.

After picking our way through the stones for 22 kilometers we came upon the first village that our friendly direction giver in Tanga had said would be plentiful. A guy inside yelled out, as we inquired, “No sodas or food, today”? We were getting hungry so hoped that there would be another store. The answer to that question was another shout, “No more until Pangani”. That’s another 30 kilometers and beyond our destination.

A young boy caught us then stuck to us like we were long lost kin. He was polite and well dressed. Eventually I got pieces of his story, he goes to town almost every day and gets milk for his village. A small businessman, he has a plastic ice chest strapped to his bike rack to haul the milk. We thought he was going to stay until we either pulled away from him or into the Hotel. Then, he said, “Me home”, and turned down a country lane.

Cat was getting tired, in fact both of us were suffering some fatigue. Ducking and dodging the rocks has been a big upper body workout. She had just said that she couldn’t see anything that looked like a Hotel when we saw the Peponi sign. Off to the left, down dirt tire tracks and there it was. We leaned the bikes on a tree and went into the office. Denys, (Dennis) and his wife Gilly (Jilly) greeted us and signed us in. Nice folks, they started with a tract of bush here 5 years ago and have carved out a wonderful little beachfront resort.

Denys led us to Banda Zebra, the last place on the white sand sidewalk. It is a two-room hut made of woven palm fronds and sisal poles. The best of it is that there’s a toilet and shower. Hot water at 5:30 PM. The side-by-side twin beds are draped with mosquito netting. It looks primitive yet comfortable.

It had taken us 4 hours to cycle the 30 Ks. Starving, we gulped down some great, pressed sandwiches, chips and Bitter Lemons. Cat unpacked, she wasn’t interested in an ocean swim. I dipped in the Indian Ocean, the water is tepid but refreshing.

We showered then sat out front listening to the surf lap at the sandy shore and sipped a glass of wine. Dinner at 7:30 PM, we were introduced to several of the other guests. Susi is from the US, here to complete her Doctorate Thesis in Anthropology. She lives and studies at Brown University in Rhode Island but is from Portland, Oregon. Her subject is Marriage and Divorce from a woman’s perspective. There’s also a couple, Richard and Gabriella, from Toronto, Canada. She’s a Lawyer, he’s a Marketing Accounts Manager for a beer company. She took 4 months leave, he quit his job and they are here, relaxing and moving around Tanzania. Yorgo is from Greece, he closes his Restaurant during off-season every year and travels. He travels every year and has been on almost every continent. A group of 4 young people were seated nearby, Siri, Jannicke, Adriana and Sigurd. They’re students from Norway, here on a 6 week International Studies program.

Dinner was great, foil fish, rice for me and chips for Cat. The wine was fine as was the conversation. It was after 10:00 PM by the time we got back to our Banda.

February 7, 2004
Lovely Day at Peponi

Cat thought she could hear an insect, bird or cowbell that kept clanking. She slept well, I was shocked when I awoke at 6:00 AM. This was the first complete nights sleep I can remember in modern times? No water or potty stops, just sleep. Was it the sound of surf? The breeze through the coconut trees? Or, were we both just beat by the bumpy road? (There is an oscillating fan in the room and we had it on all night. We began to think that it was the clanking Cat heard.)

Breakfast is included in the 30,000 Shilling ($30) room rate and it was great chopped fruit, bananas, coffee and toast. Enough to easily fill up on. I caught Denys and Gilly as they were leaving for Tanga and an appointment with their accountant. He is pretty sure that we can get a boat to Zanzibar tonight or early in the morning. Mwashondie, the guy that Captains their Dhow will help us arrange the midnight trip. Actually they leave sometime between 1:00 and 4:00 AM. They bring duty free sugar from Zanzibar and we’ll be their illegal alien cargo on the trip over. All right, we’ll be smuggled onto Zanzibar by Pirates. Even though the Island and mainland are one country they almost operate as two. Denys tells us that we should hop on a Dalla-dalla (bus) and zip into Stone Town to get our Passports stamped before cycling on Zanzibar?

Another last minute decision, we went on a snorkeling trip to Sand Island. It was a ride in the Peponi Dhow over and a sail back. We spent 3 hours there. Cat stayed on board while I snorkeled for a short time. The water, though warm, was a little stirred up and cloudy. The reef and coral is fairly plain and the fish small. The kids from Norway, the Greek guy and the Canadians went along, too. We rented the equipment and the boat is $8.00 per hour split up among the passengers. So it’s less than $2.00 an hour for us. We motored out to Sand Island, the crew set up a shade canvas then dropped those snorkeling off at the reef. We stayed out until 1:00 then they sailed the Dhow back in. A nice, relaxing day except that Cat got a little sunburned.

Lunch together then a relaxing afternoon. I typed in the shade of our porch until the battery went dry. Cat futzed with our cloths and things then we walked into Kigombe, the little village just a km or so down coast. It’s pretty African primitive. Mud huts with thatched or corrugated metal roofs. The people were the typically curious, the kids were great fun to banter with. One guy who spoke a little English joined us and helped in the search for bottled water. The only thing available was in small bottles so the trip was just a little exercise and exploration.

Sunset on the Indian Ocean, a glass of wine then dinner with our traveling friends. A pretty laid back place. Mwashondie, the Captain of Peponi’s Dhow came in at 8:30, he had arranged passage on a boat tonight or should we say early tomorrow, departure at 1:00 AM. It is sail only and that troubled Cat. He told us that another with outboard and sail would cross tomorrow night. Cat was having a tough time with the issue, she is really ready to move on but fears being becalmed for hours, waiting for the wind. I made the decision, we stay tonight and go tomorrow.

Edwin, an electrical fence installer was here because a ferry that he needs to take was down today. He is a great African though he was born in England. He and his family have lived through some terrible times in Burundi. When his neighbors two kids, the same ages as his, were killed, they left their home, job and friends behind and sought refuge here in Tanzania.

Bed under a full Tanzanian moon and balmy air full of Indian Ocean breezes.

Sunday, February 8, 2004
Another Lazy Day at Peponi

Breakfast with Yorgo, Richard and Gabriella, Siri, Adriana and Sigurd. Then I hit the typing and Cat hit the beach for a walk. When she finally came back in she had really sunburned the tops of her feet.

Lunch, same crowd, same venue, same good food. During lunch Mwashondie came in and told us that there was a boat leaving at 4:00 this afternoon. That was exciting news. We went down to the beach and met the Captain and 2 of his crew. A language glitch, we think, led to the revelation that they were talking about 4:00 AM tomorrow morning. Oh, and another thing, they had said that the boat had and engine and sail. Now it is just a sail? And, the price, Mwashondie had thought it would be 10,000 Shilling for each of us. When we talked price it had gone to 30,000. We wanted to make sure that they knew we had the bikes and bags. They talked among themselves then asked for an additional 5,000. We didn’t think $5.00 was worth arguing over, especially with guys you’re going to trust your lives to! Mwashondie volunteered to come for us at 3:30 AM. Sounds like we’re set to go!

I went back to typing and Cat spent time packing, adjusting and preparing our loads. She has us ready to go.

A glass of wine at the bar before dinner. As we sipped Marty, our Zimbabwean friend who had recommended Peponi, drove in. We bought him a beer and had a great conversation. I introduced him to Susi, she seemed less than enthusiastic about the meeting but I bet that Marty and his family are her best friends by the time her year is up here.

He has been through a lot of war and a little peace. He loves farming and didn’t leave easily but couldn’t risk his family’s lives. He and his wife called the BBC when several of their neighbors disappeared. Once the report hit the TV and radio waves they found them and got them back. They’d been beaten, one almost lost his life. They have kept the pressure on President Mugabe and still do via e-mail. He is still in love with Zimbabwe. He told us not to fear going there, the people are good, friendly people. He believes they will get their place back, someday.

Marty tells war stories as though life at war is normal. He told of how he and his three pals risked their lives fighting, shooting guns, and riding horses through the countryside like cowboys. He said that he hated to admit it but it was an exciting time in his life. The Wild West style war started when he was only 19 and like so many 19 year olds he and his pals felt invincible, immortal. Cat asked if they are all still alive and he said, “One was killed, one killed himself”. Well, that’s war.

February 9, 2004
Peponi to Dar es Salaam
No Boat, Car and Bus

We were awakened at 3:00 AM by the sound of rain. As it thickened and intensified in volume we turned lights on to see if the woven roof was holding tight. No leaks but the lightening, sound of pounding thunder and water pouring down began to dampen our enthusiasm for a boat trip. I felt that it would pass, just a tropical squall. Cat worried that we’d be stuck in a boat, soaked and miserable for 6 to 12 hours.

We waited for Mwashondie from 3:30 until 4:00 and decided that they either cancelled or have postponed the voyage until later. At 4:10 we killed the lights and crawled back into the mosquito net.

We’d just dozed off at 4:30 when I heard Mwashondie almost whispering outside the door. I went out and talked with him under the porch of our Banda. It was still drizzling but he felt the storm was over and urged us to go. I was worried about getting the bikes down the now muddy road. He had ridden his up the beach and suggested that. I invited him in to see how heavy our bikes are. He lifted Cats front wheel then said, “Road is okay, Hakuna Matata, no problem”.

I let him wait outside while Cat and I talked. I felt we should go but she was hesitant, and fearful. She’s relating this rain to our storms on the California coast. She has sailed in the surging waters of a stormy Pacific Ocean and didn’t want to risk it, here. I did my best to convince her but she dug in her heels and held firm. I went out and told a disappointed Mwashondie that we weren’t going. He made a feeble last effort then shrugged and said, “Lala Salaama”. (Sleep well.)

We didn’t sleep well, we began considering our options. The greatest problem, as usual, money. Down to our last Shillings, we’d thought that we’d find a Hotel that takes Visa at Nungwi, the northern most village on Zanzibar Island. We have enough to pay Denys and Gilly here at Peponi but little more. So, we can’t really sit and wait for better weather to get a boat. Also, setting off for Dar es Salaam on the bikes isn’t feasible either, it would take 4 or 5 days and we’d be broke in just a day, two at the most. It didn’t take Rocket Science understanding to finally make a plan. We’ll take a bus into Dar es Salaam, pick up the camera that Base Camp Charley has sent and, refresh our cash position. With that in place we fell back into fitful sleep. Cat dreamed of heavy seas and a bad boat trip.

At 7:30 AM I walked up to the restaurant, looking for Denys. I found him at the office, he was almost shocked when he saw me. I told him the story and explained our plan. He agreed to keep the bikes safely in his shop and save a room for us when we return. He even suggested that we might get a ride with cousins, Clarence and Annabelle who are heading into Tanga Town this morning.

With the bikes loaded and our small bags packed for bus travel, we went to breakfast. As the other Peponi people drifted in they too were surprised to see that we were still in camp. Denys came in as we ate and confirmed that we had a ride, Clarence and Annabelle were leaving at 9:00. We hustled, pushed the bikes over and stashed them then stood by with our bags.

They have bought a very cute and functional little 4WD Suzuki. We threw our bags into the back. Annabelle sat with Cat in the back seat to allow me legroom. They are here, looking for a piece of land to build a house on. They’ve narrowed the search to the area near Peponi. Amazing, they say you can buy beachfront land for $3,000 per acre. Well you buy a 33-year lease but like Annabelle said, “33 years is longer than we’ll need the place”. And, the real eye opener, you can build a nice little block house with running water and electricity for as little as $15,000. They talk in US Dollars, they lived in Montreal, Canada for many years. He is a Mechanical Engineer.

They dumped reality and moved south to Belize where they built, owned and operated a Restaurant Resort. Cooking was his hobby but the place became almost too successful. Clarence said that when they were serving 60 to 80 dinners most nights it was more like work than fun. They sold last year after a 9-year run and are now looking at semi-retirement.

The Suzuki needed tires and the ones they chose are too large. They scrape the fender wells when we hit bumps and there are plenty of those on this road. We remember many of them from our cycling experience just a couple of days ago. The road, you may recall, is being graded and the rain turned lots of it into muddy tracks.

A bus parked on the road had dumped its passengers. There were people walking away from it, through the mud. As we pulled past a woman came rushing up in a panic. She and her Mother were on the bus and they will miss their flight if they don’t get back to Tanga right away. Clarence and Annabelle took the situation in stride and invited them to jam in and ride with us. The gal ran back to the bus while Clarence backed up. When she emerged from the bus with her Mom they each had a huge backpack. It took some work getting their bags into the back then the daughter crammed herself in and sat on our bags.

The ladies are from Germany and we think they’re very courageous. We dropped them at the bus station then Clarence followed Denys’s directions and eventually we found the Scandinavian Express office. We had enjoyed ourselves so much that we made promises to spend the evening together when we get back to Peponi.

Tickets bought and bags stashed at the station, we walked to Click on Line and spent an hour checking and answering e-mails. There was still a half hour wait for departure when we got back to the station. After learning that our seats were reserved and we’d sit together we just relaxed and waited.

The bus is comfortable though legroom is limited. We brought all our bags aboard and stashed them in the overhead. We had picked up soft drinks and had the sandwiches that Peponi had prepared for our boat trip. We were set and surprised to find that they provide water and soft drinks for passengers. They have snacks aboard, too.

It’s a backtrack at first. The bus stopped at Ambassador Hotel where we had the rice and bean lunch then made the turning front of Segera Highway Motel. From there it all looks similar but is new to us. It was after 6:00 PM by the time we finally got into Dar. We grabbed a taxi, made a quick stop for water and wine at Shop Rite Supermarket. Our choice of Hotel, The Peacock, was made from the Lonely Planet. It is a little expensive but located centrally.

The hotel is very nice. Our room is large enough to have some elbowroom. They have CNN and BBC and they include breakfast. Tired from the lack of sleep last night and the grinding bus ride we just settled in then went down to dinner. The restaurant is just a slight cut above a coffee shop but service and the food were good. It was 9:00 PM by the time we finished and within 20 minutes we were laying in bed watching a movie.

Hooked, we stayed up until almost midnight watching and at times sniffling. The Step Mom is a wonderful story and a real tearjerker. I won’t try to explain the plot but we do recommend that you rent it when you need a good cry.

February 10, 2004
A Business Day in Dar

Showers, CNN, then down for the included breakfast. A nice array of fruit, some sausages and potatoes and, the Chef cooks your eggs to order. Even the coffee was a cut above the powdered stuff. The staff actually acts like they’re happy that you’re here. They almost overdo the service thing but it’s nice to have.

We called DHL to see how we go about picking up our package. Fatma, the nice girl on the other end of the line initially told us that we’d have to come to the airport and it would take about 5 days to get the package released because it contains prescription drugs. They have a panel that has to inspect them? She finally suggested that we come out, make our request and leave our passports. She felt that we might have the package tomorrow. We hate to spend the 20,000 per trip on a Taxi but if you gotta, you gotta?

We are pleasantly surprised at how clean and modern Dar es Salaam is, at least the end of town that we’ve seen. The helpful staff gave us simple directions to CitiBank and Barclays. They are just across from each other so we can give Citi a try first. They have our accounts and should provide a cash machine without service fees. It’s a nice 20-minute walk and the streets are alive with traffic and small shops just getting a start on their day. Unfortunately CitiBank doesn’t have an ATM and won’t advance cash at the counter because they aren’t connected. At least that’s what they told us as they sent us on around the corner to Barclays. The ATM there was more than happy to connect to our account and spew cash into our hands.

There is a DHL Office nearby so we checked there to see if they could help us. They called Fatma and discussed our problem, we want to leave tomorrow and we hate to have to make 2 expensive trips to the airport. She surprised us by saying that if we come out now she thought they could get the package in about 30 minutes? It seems to get better every time we ask. The problem is Customs but there is an Agent there now who will take a look at the package.

It’s 18 kilometers to the Old Airport. Funny, when Fatma was trying to explain how to find them she kept saying Aulde Airport. When I questioned her she asked if I speak English then spelled O L D. I got it.

The driver we found agreed, after a little haggling, to take us out, wait and bring us back in for 16,000 Shilling. He pulled up in front of the old terminal and asked then parked and said he’d wait. We went inside and security called Fatma. She came down and had me sign in but for some reason wouldn’t allow Cat to come along. We walked through a couple more security checks then out on the tarmac and around then up to their office. She told me it would take 30 minutes and suggested that I sit. I didn’t, partly because I was tired of sitting after yesterday’s car and bus rides and I think they hustle along if you stand and watch.

She did the initial work then turned the preparation of papers over to another gal. She finished and had me sign for the package then asked me to sit, again. I stood and watched planes come and go as they passed the paperwork around. After almost an hour Fatma came to me and said, “He wants to see you”. He who? The Customs Agent, a big burly guy in a little glassed in office.

When he told me to sit, I did. No sense starting off on the wrong foot. He asked about the prescription drugs and I explained Cat’s problems. Then he took forever looking at the words, Camera and Battery. He told me that he had to charge duty on the Camera because it is new. I complained and reminded him that it was to replace the one we had broken. I gave him the next to last card we have and explained that we are traveling by bicycle and publishing the story on our web site. He looked at the card, stuffed it in his pocket and continued to look down at the papers. Also, I told him that the Camera can’t be purchase here in Tanzania nor can you get the Mini CDs for it.

He called his Boss and then suggested that I give him a deposit that would be refunded when we leave Tanzania. I questioned how that would work and he hemmed and hawed. I told him that I am on a fixed retirement and like Tanzania, our Social Security isn’t very much. Then, almost abruptly, he grabbed an ink stamp with a long handle and began pounding it on the papers in front of him. He looked over, smiled and said, “I am releasing your package”! I thanked him, grabbed the pile of papers and went back out to the DHL desk.

It took a few more minutes of paperwork then a guy led me out and down to the shipping room. With package in hand I thanked Fatma and her boss who had been kidding me about how strong I must be for my age. Then as a goodbye I invited him to come cycle with me in California when he’s 64. Good for a laugh and a good goodbye.

Cat had been scouting possibilities for flying back to Tanga rather than the grueling bus ride. Cost prohibitive, unfortunately.

Our driver was there and we relaxed as he battled the heavy traffic back toward town. So we had a camera and money now Cards. The business cards that we have been giving out are gone. We saved one as a sample for a printer. Amazing, when we pulled up at the Peacock Cat noticed a printer just next door.

They specialize in weddings business cards etc. A vast array of choices but we are locked in to our design. He took the card and told us he’d have a proof tomorrow afternoon. When he learned that we were leaving in the morning he put a rush on the order and will get it for us this afternoon.

Cat ordered lunch and we ate in the room. I typed and we alternated between CNN and BBC. Awe what a bonus, to have choices.

The proof proved to be great, just a couple of small changes and we had an order. He will have them printed for us when we get back into Dar in 5 or 6 days. They are a good deal, too. Because we ordered 2000 he reduced the price to 150,000 Shilling, less than 7 ½ cents per card. He needed a deposit we dug up 80,000. This will run us a little short of cash but we can go back to Barclays on the way to the bus in the morning.

Back in our room we got hooked on another movie, a message filled drama staring Cuba Gooding Jr. as the first black US Navy Diver. It’s based loosely on a true-life story that begins in the early 1950s just after President Truman declared the US Military integrated. Can’t give you the title, we never saw it, but another recommendation. We felt like it really fit in with the things we are seeing and learning about our fellow human beings here in Africa.

Another late dinner, the movie went on until 8:30 PM. Another good dinner and bottle of wine. A surprise, too, Hienz, the Austrian guy we met at Peponi was there. He doesn’t speak much English but told us his friend, Sapa was shopping. The end of another wonderful day.

Our only disappointment is that the camera only has a 3X Telephoto, that’s only half what our old one had and it was too little at times. Oh well, that’s one of the hazards of doing business from around the globe.

February 11, 2004
The Long Ride Back

The wakeup call failed but we were awake at 6:05AM, our bio alarms sounded off we guess? Bath then breakfast and a good one it is. Sapa came in and completed the surprise of last night. Strange, they took a taxi to their first choice for a Hotel but it was booked. They tried another but it was full too. Then the Taxi Driver suggested, by coincidence, The Peacock.

We had our bags with us so that we could leave directly. Cat paid the bill and the nice Peacock people arranged for a car. The cost was to be 1500 Shilling but we wanted to circle around to Barclay’s Bank and get another 200,000 Shilling. The circle needed to get there was huge, too many one-way streets. In fact he cut through a Service Station once to avoid one. Then, the real disappointment after all the driving, the ATM was out of service.

Okay, off to the Scandinavia Bus Terminal. We’ll be short of cash again, seems like a perpetual problem for us? I got generous and handed the driver 2,500 Shilling. Cat thought it was too much but he did a lot of driving and sitting in traffic. It was 8:15 when he dropped us, Cat took off on the run while I gathered the bags. The gal in the ticket booth calmed us down, we had time and they had seats. When we rushed through the terminal the ticket agent at the door motioned for us to sit down. The bus wasn’t even boarding, yet.

Second disappointment of the day, our bus is an old beat up relic. We came to Dar in a modern, air conditioned coach but will return in something less than style. We both wished that the plane tickets hadn’t been so expensive.

As it turned out, once we started rolling the seats were okay, we grabbed the front rows and clung to them as the others boarded. Plenty of legroom and breeze. The weather was nice, almost cool. The old clunker rolled right along, we only stopped to drop or pick up passengers a few times. We stopped in the middle of nowhere and Gabber, one of the driver’s helpers leaned down and said, “You may urinate here”!

Funny, most of the others got off, too. The guys just stood at the bushes edge, the gals squatted in the tall grass. Would have been a great picture but I dared not. We did get one of our bus and the crew. I also got off the bus at one scale stop. They have to pull in and be weighed for some reason. We’d seen the micro merchants that line up and sell everything from toys to electronic goods to sodas and nuts. I wanted that picture. The bus almost pulled away without me. I had to run and jump aboard.

The old clunker made great time, we were in the streets of Tanga by 1:30 PM. More than an hour faster than the big bus had taken to get to Dar. Gabber tried to help us with directions to the local bus station for the bus to Peponi but his English and our Swahili didn’t match up. A couple of Taxi drivers shadowed us, one was particularly pushy. He shouted, “Come my friend, take my Taxi”. He even drove close and grabbed my arm. I thought we were going to blows but he finally got the message to leave.

I wished that we’d taken a cab, any but his. Cat was adamant about walking. Neither of us knew exactly where we were going or how far it was. A van taxi pulled up and offered us a lift for 150 S. Only 15 cents, but The Cat’s mind was made up. We walked and sweated in the afternoon sun. I feared that we’d walk up just as the bus pulled out and miss it. The last bus to Peponi.

The Bus Station was crowded, teaming with people. Cat mentioned once that we wanted to go to Peponi and we were swarmed with well-intentioned guides. They led us through the maze of buses to the one to Pangani. There were too many to tip and interestingly, none asked? v We boarded and bought tickets at 2:15. This bus looked like it should have ended its days of service at least 20 years ago. We sat across from each other and sweated. Departure time is 3:00. Cat walked across and bought 2 Bitter Lemons and some cold French fries for lunch. We sat and ate until the conductor came and made it clear that we’d have to stay in our assigned seats. He said, “The boat is full, you know what I mean”?

At 3:05 the driver who reminded us of Eddy Murphy, laughed that funny laugh, fired up the old girl and ground the gears into low. Every seat was taken then, just around the corner they stopped and loaded the standing room only folks. It must not be legal to overload in the terminal? Gear Grinder

The ride was not that bad. The old bus knows the way and the driver knows the old bus. A guy seated across from us tried to talk but we couldn’t communicate. He had great looking teeth and an infectious smile. I took a couple of pictures out the window and showed them to him. He loved being included, then I pointed the new camera toward him and he smiled that winning smile. When he saw the picture he really smiled then asked in halting English, “I have picture”? He wanted a copy, I opened the camera, let him see the CD then said, “Not possible”. He smiled then shook my hand. There are nice people everywhere, even on old decrepit buses.

The ride was thrill a minute but all in all not that bad and, we were at Peponi in just an hour, a half hour quicker that the ride in with Clarence and Annabelle.

The folks were happy to see us. We got the bikes out of the garage, Cat pushed hers back to Zebra while I re-checked us in. I took a few pictures around the place with the new camera, even got one of Denys and Gilly as well as Clarence and Annabelle. We ordered dinner, a smart idea here, you choose dinner and write down your choice an hour or two before mealtime. It has to make life easier for the cook, with all the languages that pass through Peponi. Cat showered, I typed. We enjoyed a couple glasses of wine while sitting out front of the Banda listening to the Indian Ocean splash against the shore of East Africa.

Dinner, Susi was there so we sat and talked with her and two guys from Austria. There’s a group here in one of those Tour Africa trucks, camping on the grassy area and near the beach. They kept to themselves, played some darts and drank a little. I think they must cook their own meals?

Denys and Kenny stopped by to let us know that Mwashondie told them there was no boat tonight. We resigned ourselves to another day at Peponi. We did consider cycling to Pangani, the village further south to get a boat. Denys and Kenny invited us to come along fishing with them at 6:00 AM. After two days on buses we felt like stretching our legs and, we still may head toward Pangani.

February 12, 2004
A Pirates Cruise to Zanzibar
Anniversary, We Left Home 1 Year, 10 Months Ago, Today

We heard a hushed voice outside the door at 6:00 AM. I thought at first that it was Kenny checking to see if we were going to chase fish with them. The second call and we knew it was Mwashondie, he said, “A boat leaves soon, you want go”?

The scramble was on. I jumped into my shorts and followed him to the beach. We met one of the same guys we’d talked with before. It was tough communicating until one of the Austrian guys from dinner last night helped. His family lived here for several years when he was young and he speaks Swahili. He was able to confirm that it was the same deal, 35,000 for Cat, Pat and the 2 bikes. We shook hands all the way around then I hustled back to help get things together. They wanted us to be back at the beach, ready to go by 7:00 AM.

Gilly had our bill ready and a bag of fruit and two bottles of water for us, too. No breakfast but we do have some cookies to accompany the fruits. As we pushed to the beach we passed some of the Afri