Entry 1: Into Africa

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British Airways gave us a very smooth passage through the air to our first destination. We landed in Nairobi, Kenya’s capital where after battling through East Africa’s equivalent to rush hour, we booked into the Boulevard Hotel which had been suggested to us by the African Travel Company. It’s from here we would be met by our guide and the rest of the group, some of whom would have been with the tour when it began some two weeks earlier.
Our main purpose for joining the tour would be to accompany them through Tanzania, during which we would experience a brief look at Maasai culture, a game drive into the Ngorongoro Crater and across the Serengeti, before turning around and making our way to, and finishing on the ’Spice Island’ of Zanzibar. Once there we would leave the group to continue on their African adventure why we would be continuing our own itinerary with a flight to Cape Town from Dar es Salaam going via Johannesburg.
Whilst waiting for the tour to begin we started to acclimatize to the heat during two fairly uneventful days in Nairobi. Having visited this continent before, coming to Africa always possess a degree of culture shock, whether it be the poverty, food or becoming the absolute minority when it comes to ethnicity. Wandering around the city we saw no more than half a dozen other white westerners, and so naturally we would draw looks from the locals, especially the children. Nicknamed ’Nairobbery’ it can be a little unnerving being such an obvious target, but this was mainly due to our own state of mind and never once did we feel threatened at all. We took a stroll through the local park, but were always back in the confines of our hotel grounds by nightfall. For tourists the city is considered a no go area after dark with many an unscrupulous character waiting to take advantage of the lost and vulnerable.
The up and coming elections seem to be the buzz on the streets, and with Africa’s history of politics and the violence that can erupt during such affairs we’ve probably chosen a good time for this very brief visit to the capital.

We had our pre-tour meeting on the Saturday where we were introduced to Lisa, an Australian on her first trip as a guide. She talked about the rough itinerary for the next few days, and it was now we learnt that we would be spending our six nights under African skies in the confines of a two man tent. Although we weren’t originally aware of this, the simplicity of it is quite exciting, especially as one of those nights will be spent out in the bush of the Serengeti, amidst the wildlife, large and small that could as easy stumble into our camp, or deliberately seeks it out as a source of food. We would be making our way to our various overnight stops in a large truck most of the time, which would be carrying all 25 of us as well as Lisa our guide, a cook, and of course the driver. During the two days spent game driving however, we would be further divided down into smaller groups of four or five so as to comfortably sit in the 4x4s. The group was also sub divided into five smaller teams and given names. This was for the purpose of doing odd jobs. For instance on the first day one group would be responsible for taking down the cooks tent while she was preparing breakfast, and then they would arrange the stools in a circle for when everybody was up and ready to eat. Another team would be making sure the truck was swept and clean, whilst yet another would have to do the washing and drying up etc etc.
Rather annoyingly we are also informed at the meeting that the initial cost of our trip doesn’t include our game drive into the Ngorongoro Crater. This is not only news to us but the majority of the group, and means an early blow to the budget to the sound of $400.…..each. It was in our view a deliberate omission by African Travel Co. that would later cause a great deal of wasted time and stress. The Ngorongoro Crater was one of our main reasons for joining this tour so there was no chance of us not paying the extra, and I’m sure the operators of the company undoubtedly knew this, there was nothing we could do but express our frustrations to Lisa.
The following morning we were packed and ready to board the truck for the journey towards the Kenya/Tanzanian border. We stopped on the way to purchase some water and snacks and were warned to keep up our fluid intake; ideally about two litres per day. However, it soon became obvious that guzzling water would not be ideal due to the lack of toilet stops. On the rare occasion the driver did stop it was a case of boys to the right of the truck and girls to the left. After that it was up to you as to the choice of rock or bush you chose to leave your deposit………. Welcome to Africa!
Our arrival at the border would mean a short delay as a few visas had to be processed and paying in US dollars requires that all bills are printed no earlier than 2001, and checking this is time consuming. Whilst Lisa dealt with those, the rest of the group including ourselves needed to change our Kenyan currency into Tanzanian shillings.
It was a small ’Bureau de Change’ that was pointed out to us so quickly that we missed it as the driver then proceeded to park 200 yards further up the road. This left us with an unnecessarily long and potentially uncomfortable walk back. We’d already been warned not to carry any valuables and that we were bound to encounter some of the Maasai displaying their crafts who’s selling techniques were described as 'borderline aggressive'. It was a daunting prospect, as the only reason you make your way to the Bureau de Change is to either exchange or obtain money, either way the more devious locals would know you would be leaving with cash in your pockets. It’s pointless trying to act casual about it, because the fact remains you’re a white tourist and may just as well have ’Meal Ticket’ printed on your back.
However, once again the thought far outweighed the actual threat and we all changed our money without incident.
Several more hours on the road saw us pass some Maasai villages, Mt. Meru and several sightings of ostrich and gazelle, but without even the hint of another 'piss stop' as we like to call them; a reference to Formula 1, as like them, we only seem to manage one from the start to the finish of a journey.
There was no checkered flag as we reached our destination, which was a little campsite just outside the city of Arusha. Once everyone was off the truck there was a quick demonstration on how to erect our tents, which we promptly followed with surprising success.
With our tents up we were hit with the news that due to a pump failure there would be no running water available. Therefore, the comfort of a shower after spending all day cooped up in the truck would have to wait, and although toilets were now readily available they had to be flushed with buckets of water drained from a storage tank. It was obvious that not everybody could be bothered with the manual flushing technique and conditions were pretty grim. This didn’t seem to deter the ants or mosquitos, who would choose the most inconvenient of moments to descend upon you. Anyway, you get the picture.
It was in stark contrast then that we were able to walk from the prehistoric toilets and washrooms with no running water to the bar where we could grab a bottle of beer, and watch South Africa defeat Argentina in the Rugby World Cup semi final on a perfectly good TV. Our cultures maybe different, but our needs and priorities are remarkably similar.
The following day we made the short journey into Arusha. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for pleasure or sight seeing, but instead to try and retrieve the much needed US dollar or Tanzanian shilling. This of course was to pay the unexpected extra cost of the Ngorongoro Crater.
Lisa chose the word 'crap' to describe the exchange rates in Arusha, and we needed to get 2,000,000 (yes two million) Tanzanian shillings in order to see us through to our departure from Zanzibar in several days time.
The first ATM (cash point) we find is out of action. We get to the next one and although functioning, will only dispense 100,000 shillings at a time which means a potential 20 transactions, that will probably cost us 1 pound per transaction. However, we only manage five transactions on each of our bankcards securing only half of the amount we needed. This incidently, was still enough banknotes to choke a dozen donkeys. Stress levels were high due to the frustration that this was a situation that could have been avoided if we’d just been told about the ’extras’ prior to coming on tour.
We got back to camp and had a short wait for the 4x4s to arrive. These would be our new mode of transport for the up and coming game drives. Our jeep would consist of Phil our driver, and Lisa up front, and as well as Sam and I in the back we had Jo and Dennis a father and daughter combination who we got on with very well. Not all members of the group endeared themselves to others but we couldn’t have chosen a better selection of individuals to share the experience with.
We arrived in our new camp having already seen and photographed baboon, giraffe and more gazelle en route, as well as seeing some spectacular scenery. We finally get that much needed shower at our new campsite, after which we sit around the campfire and have dinner. The clear night sky, devoid of light pollution, offers an as yet unrivalled view of the stars and we both stand alone for a while with our necks hyper-extended staring upwards. It brings a perfect end to the day after a frustrating start. Tomorrow will be the first of the real game drives and we’re beside ourselves with excitement. We have a challenge to spot each of the Big 5, set by my brother who has requested photographic evidence of our experiences. For us, the last three days have been a build up to this moment and tomorrows is where our the trip of a lifetime begins in ernest………………..

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Photos

This is Africa
Along with Africa's national tree.

Our transport through Tanzania
Big truck, small person.

Our campsite in Arusha
No running water, but had a tv to watch the Rugby World Cup semi final between South Africa and Argentina.

Maasai market
Like Charlotte Street, Portsmouth without the fake-Burberry clad chavs.

Maasai village hut.
NO room for a 42" plasma.

Maasai villagers
The village people........where's the construction worker, the cop and cowboy??