Nairobi - The flight from Port Elizabeth through Johannesburg was uneventful. The ATM worked at the airport. A visa was a quick stamp and exchange of money with a bored looking man behind a desk. Our luggage arrived and we had help collecting it by one of the two ladies checking that all luggage was collected. The Parkside hotel had a guy there for us holding up the ‘Tiffeny Deneaux’ sign, and we were off. Immediately outside the airport, we saw a Maasi man herding cows along the road. Vultures were perched in the trees. Lots of partially built cement houses. Roads full of traffic at 6 PM. As we entered town, our driver had all the windows rolled up, locked the doors and put on his seatbelt. Men were peddling all sorts of goods to the drivers on the road. Things were looking very run down with a spattering of buildings that looked like they belonged in a city. Cars were belching exhaust. And we arrived 45 minutes later at our hotel. The room was worn, didn’t smell very good (there was a narrow alley full of litter outside our window, and cat doo on a semi-cool tin roof that was rather pungent), but the shower was warm and the toilet flushed. We considered it adequate. Dinner consisted of a huge meal of baked chicken, spinach, french fries, rice, and Tusker beer in the restaurant at the corner. The place was full of business locals watching the news over Coca-Colas and beers, many many beers. We didn’t gain any extra attention, so it was a wonderful place to unwind from the day (and it smelled a heck of a lot better than our room).
Leaving Nairobi - Our Riverside shuttle departed from directly in front of the hotel, but we were a bit confused on time. We were told 7:30 AM, but in reality it didn’t leave until 8 AM. No big deal, right? Our morning was spent being shooed back into the restaurant on the corner for breakfast (it was included in the price of the room, so they made sure we knew that). It’s 7:15 AM, alright coffee sounds good and maybe some toast. Coffee arrives at the table at 7:25 AM, piping hot. We apologize and go out to talk to the folks milling about the shuttle (other passengers have their luggage loaded on top already). The restaurant staff chases after us with a pained/hurt expression and wants us to sit back down for breakfast. They are in the process of cooking it. We are shooed back in the restaurant. I go out to try to find out what time the shuttle is leaving. No luck. I can’t get within 10 feet of the coordinator. It’s 7:30 AM. How can one even consider eating at a moment like this? The eggs arrive. Derrell heads back outside to find out if they will gather us before we leave… and we finally get the information that the shuttle doesn’t actually depart until 8 AM. By this time the staff of the restaurant has completely given up on considering us rational human beings. Our stress level is a bit high. And ultimately we ended up on the shuttle… completely fed.
Border Crossing - The shuttle driver was good and knew every road bump, pothole, and whether to slow for the police blockades that kept popping up. There were lots of Maasi’s in red printed cloth with spears herding cattle and goats. Spears, get that! Round mud huts with thatched roofs (Maasi “homes”) in groups of 8 or 10 with dried thorn branches gathered around the village as a fence. Lots of other homes and walls were marked with M.O.W. Demolish Order in white spray paint (the road is being expanded and folks, rich and poor, are being given anywhere from 2 hours to 3 weeks to vacate the property… the newspaper had full coverage of the conflict). Otherwise the sights along the way included fat gray donkeys grazing loosely along the road (or in the road, as was often the case), a rogue camel (dromedary) also grazing, and lots of green grass and acacia trees.
The border crossing was completed in under an hour: exit stamp from Kenya, money exchanging hands for a visa stamp for Tanzania, everything unloaded from the top of the shuttle (local stuff poked at, our stuff left alone). The bulk of the time was dealing with the local’s ’stuff’. Taxes for goods brought into Tanzania is high. It is an attempt to offset the lower cost of things in Kenya. We were told than many folks that own restaurants and such, just smuggle and pay the fines if/when they get caught. Lots of locals trying to sell necklaces and beads to anyone that is on two feet passing through. Lots of trucks taking forever to pass through the border for the same smuggling/taxation reasons. Overall, it was a breeze.
Arusha - Our first glance at the town ‘one of Tanzania’s fastest growing and bustling cities’ was confusing. Only a few of the roads are paved. Shacks are everywhere, used as stores. It was a bit of a shock. As we pulled into the shuttle parking lot that we knew from the map was in the heart of the city, we kept wondering where the city started. Well, Arusha is Arusha. Dusty, slightly busy, with a minor amount of paved roads and solid storefronts. As planned, a person met us from the IntoAfrica safari group at the shuttle stop. This was good, as the Taxi and safari touts were surrounding us like flies. To balance the onslaught, the people not touting were full of smiles and helpful. One girl was needing to gather her pack, and the shuttle driver stopped the onslaught to make sure she was connected with the company of her choice and she had her backpack. The fact that you could stop the selling for a moment to get things straightened out completely surprised me; the Moroccans would never have tolerated that! We settled into the LandRover, got a lift over to the Barclay’s ATM, and were settled into Emmy’s Guesthouse (completely ensconsed in colorful metal gratings to keep riff-raff from breaking in), all within about 20 minutes. So far, so good, but…
Then at 2 PM we were asked if we were hungry. We made the mistake of saying ‘yes, a bit’. Our hosts then cooked up a full six course lunch for us, and we were presented with a feast an hour and a half later. We both felt over-the-top guilty for the work we caused them. We really just wanted a small snack to get us to the dinner hour.
The rest of the safari group straggled in that afternoon. Our group consisted of: 2-Canadians (late 20’s), 1-England (mid-20’s), 2-Scotland (our age), 2-Denmark (our age), 1-Netherlands (our age). It was a pleasant group of people. And their dinner was just about as elaborate as our lunch. And so, we got the full dose of questions about why we were not eating. That night we could hear hyennas and local dogs barking as we fell asleep under mosquito nets.
Ah, this is feeling like Africa.
