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I got off the train. And was approached by some one offering a taxi ride. I had a rough idea of the price, but wasn’t exactly sure how much.
15000 Shillings was the first price I was given. I said that I had been told it was 5000. They said okay then 12. This was going to be a hard bargaining process. Next I said that I had heard that the price was 5 and that I was not prepared to pay more than 5. They reduced the price to 10 I walked off, at which point they started to follow, confirming the fact they were trying to over charge me. I offered 6 The guy said that the place I was trying to get to was over 5 km away. My reply to this was to offer 7. The taxi tout was insistent on 10 as his lowest price at which point I stated that I had better go and find out if this was the best price I could get. At this point something happened that I didn’t expect. A man stood in front of me and said seven then nodded to the tout.
What had happened was that the taxi driver couldn’t speak English so he employed some one to help him out. Once he realised that I was walking away he intervened. I guess he understood numbers in English at least.
If I was initially over charged it was made up when I handed my bags over for them to carry as they now weighed over 30 kg’s! Then when we actually got to the Safari Inn He tried to add 1000 shillings to the price at which point I pulled an angry face. He laughed and said hakuna matata… Well I guess every one knows one phrase in Swahili.
The Safari Inn got me a room and moved all my bags in. This is when I realised that I was in a different part of Africa.
The security in this part of Africa is different. My room had a sign up warning guests to lock their possessions away and to leave all valuables in the office safe! Ahhh bring back the friendly backpacker places.
I decided to get out as soon as possible and see what Dar had to offer. Well I had arrived on a Thursday evening. Friday was the weekend (Dar is a Muslim city) and it was a national holiday. Everything I could afford to do or have enough time to do was closed.
So what to do? I couldn’t leave the hotel as I had to keep all my cash and documents with me. Zanzibar on this trip was, unfortunately, out of the question. I went down stairs and found that the hotel had a broadband internet café at the equivalent price of 30p per hour. I think I had just found out what I would be ding for the next couple of days…
I spent the next 3 hours catching upon email and typing the travel blog.
The next day saw me going to the mosque for Friday prayers. I stood out like a sore thumb, not only with the way I had dressed, the way I behaved but the fact that I had a beard that was half bleached blond.
So after being introduced to the Imam and told that I should visit the Islamic community on Zanzibar to see what I could do to help I found myself walking out of the mosque by the wrong exit o avoid any more attention. I was stood in the entrance with about 20 old disabled men gently smiling at me. One of them said something in Kiswahili at which point I apologised for not understanding. I smiled back and gently pushed my way to a suitable place to put my shoes on. They stood there expectantly still smiling. Then I noticed that most of them have disabilities and the penny dropped. I pulled out some cash and looked at who to give it too, I didn’t want to risk giving it all to one person who wouldn’t share it. Some one came forward and took the money of me. I looked at the others, they seemed happy enough with that person taking charge of the money, and stopped looking at me expectantly.
I then tried to find some where to have lunch. Instead I ended up with the best glass of lemon juice I had ever drunk…
I went back to the hotel and, as the internet was having issues, I ended up watching Indian films for the first time in about a year (normally I avoid them like the plague unless they have either Urmila Metondkar or Amita Buchan in them).I watched for so long that I was up until 2 pm packing as a result for the coach to Mombassa, something that would have an impact over the next couple of days…
It was a six am start as the coach left at 7.30. Another 12 hour bus ride…
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Big Dave
non-member comment
Bartering
I think you will have a huge shock when you get back in the UK and have you will not have to barter to get your chicken burger from PFC or haggle over the DVD's from Blockbuster. I can hear the phone calls now, I'll say I'll be at yours for 7 and some how you'll get me down to meeting you at 5 instead!! Keep it real hommie