After many weeks of planning and looking forward to our Christmas trip we set off in mid December for Kilimanjaro, Tanzania – the roof of Africa. We had decided to take public transport across the width of the continent to give an opportunity to experience more of our neighbouring African countries and their people and to try out the recommended trans Tanzania-Zambia railway (Tazara). The first leg was by bus from Otjiwarongo to Livingstone and was a comfortable overnight journey despite a delayed start due to ‘mechanical issues’. Mark, our travel companion and fellow volunteer, clearly thought the only way of getting through such an arduous trip was to have a few large measures of Scotch as he staggered off the bus to greet us. On entering Zambia the border crossing process was much easier this time without the car. Having visited Victoria Falls before, once in Livingstone we focussed on R&R in preparation for the journey ahead.
The Tazara railway runs from Kapiri Mposhi, a small town a few hours north of Lusaka, to Dar es Salaam on the Tanzanian east coast. The train runs only twice per week, as does the Otjiwarongo-Livingstone bus, therefore some logistical planning and stopovers were required. En route to Kapiri we spent a day in bustling Lusaka – the capital of Zambia and fried chicken capital of the world. Literally every other shop on Cairo Road was a fried chicken fast food joint. The cities street market was interesting and you could pretty much buy anything that you wanted. We stayed at the less than glamorous and inventively named Lusaka Backpackers where we almost immediately required rescuing from our room as the door handle came off in my hand.
There is little to say about the small town of Kapiri Mposhi except that it is home to the communist style Tazara railway station and serves the worst cup of tea we have ever had.
After some scrutinizing our tickets were accepted at the ticket office and after a few hours we were allowed to board our first class carriage. First class was a dubious term but all things are relative – as we discovered after a visit along to third class. Our cabin had four bunks and a couple of sheets and pillows which probably hadn’t seen a wash for a few trips between the three of us. The toilet was a hole in the floor and there was no running water in the wash room. Mark’s deflated expression illustrated his expectations were more along the lines of the Orient Express. My issue was the food – or lack of it. The small kitchen seemed only capable of producing one meal at a time and the train was packed with Christmas traffic. The tea was second only to the grey liquid we had faced in Kapiri. The train did stop regularly in villages where people sold things to passengers through the windows but the problem was the same one we have seen with so many African small enterprises – diversity. Why sell mangos if all of your friends and people in the next village are also selling mangos? I should have stocked up on fried chicken in Lusaka. However we did enjoy the journey and it was a great way to see Africa. The scenery was green and lush and at times breathtaking. It was great to see how villagers live so far removed from western ways of life. And the mangos were good.
Two full days and nights of slow rumbling along later we arrived in Dar es Salaam where we were met by Mark’s friend Tessa. Tessa was another volunteer based in Dar, knew everything about the city and arranged everything for the next leg of the trip. We caught a ferry to the island of Zanzibar the next day and would have to wait until our return journey to explore Dar.
The Zanzibar culture is a fusion of African, Arabic, Asian and Indian influenced by hundreds of years of trading, particularly of spices and slaves. This is seen in architecture, clothing and best of all food. The Swahili (meaning people of the coast) people are predominantly Muslim but live harmoniously side by side with Christians and other faiths. We had decided to spend a few days including Christmas Day in Stone Town at a beautiful Arabic style guest house. By day we explored the narrow winding streets and alley ways and in the evening the food market at Forandhani Gardens. Vast arrays of seafood were cooked in front of us using spices and coconut milk. We visited a spice farm where we saw how many spices are grown, ate more excellent Zanzibari food and I even climbed a coconut tree. On Christmas Day we enjoyed sundowners in luxury at a very colonial hotel and gate crashed a British families’ game of charades – you need to play a game or two on Christmas Day. We had our Christmas dinner at a local restaurant where roast turkey was replaced by steak and swordfish and wine by fruit juice.
We then headed to the idyllic, coconut tree lined beaches on the south east coast of the island. This area of the island is still untouched by the big Italian owned resorts which have transformed the northern beaches. You can see village women cultivating seaweed on the shore, fishermen coming in with their catch of octopus and children digging for bait. You can walk or cycle along the beach for kilometres without being bothered by hardly anyone except the odd Maasai warrior selling some crafts. We met a friendly guy from the nearby village and arranged for his mother to cook us a traditional Swahili meal to share with the family. We gave him some money for food and the next day we were put to work in their kitchen making coconut milk to add to the plantain and cassava dishes. The food was great and was washed down with some excellent spiced tea laced with cinnamon, cardamom and ginger. Zanzibar is a beautiful place and the people are great. Apparently there is a VSO volunteer on placement there – now that would be a placement.
From Zanzibar we headed back to the mainland and north to the Usambara mountains for some gentle altitude acclimatisation before Kilimanjaro. We stayed in the small town of Leshoto and saw new years eve in at the bar of our guest house with some Peace Corps volunteers, a Czech couple and the quirky Cypriot owner. The next day feeling slightly delicate we decided to start the new year with a short morning hike up to a lookout over the Maasai Steppe. We would have loved to have stayed here for longer but Kili was calling.
We met our Kilimanjaro hiking group and guide at the hotel in Moshi. There would be 8 of us, Julia and I, two Australian girls, a couple from New York state and a couple from Colorado. We bonded well and got on great over the 8 day trek. There is so much I could say about our Kilimanjaro experience but I don’t think I could do it justice. Hiking to the highest peak in Africa, the highest free standing mountain in the world, was a lifetime experience. Our fellow hiker and new friend Joyce did an excellent job of summing it up in a poem she wrote during the trek and which I have posted on our blog. Her husband John also put together a visual diary of short video footage and photos. His camera work while hiking is commendable. Most importantly, we reached Uhuru Peak, the summit and roof of Africa.
The return journey to Namibia was slightly more tedious than our first journey across the dark continent. This time however I did carry with me a sack of food. The low point was sitting on a stationary bus for 7 hours waiting for it to fill up before it would leave the railway station in Kapiri. The highlight was seeing a family of lions and then a group of elephant on the side of the road as we drove through the Caprivi region in the north of Namibia.
Ant x
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