Mpulungu to Bujumbura

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Mpulungu is a single road town but this time a surfaced road which leads to the harbour at one end. We are the only mzungu's (white people) in town so stand out. We find a 'hotel' near the harbour which has cottages in the grounds. They are basic but the same price as a dorm bed in Lusaka so quite reasonable. There is no running water so the bucket system is in use for the shower and toilet, but there is a large fan and mosquito net, and surprisingly a TV. This has a satellite connection but is run from the main house so we can only watch whichever channel they decide to watch, and that often cuts out.
We visit the harbour to inquire about the MV Liemba Ferry which runs on Fridays but they won't know until the next day if it is running. We are at the southerly point of Lake Tanganyika, the world's longest lake and second deepest. We are hoping for the ferry to take us to Kigoma in Tanzania, and then a second ferry to take us to Bujumbura in Burundi. Or worst case, which could work out better, a cargo ship going direct to Bujumbura.
While waiting for our room we go off in search of breakfast. Hilde's Coffee Shop doesn't serve coffee or tea but we are directed towards the market. This are basic, dirt and rock tracks, wooden shacks and people everywhere. It is mainly selling raw ingredients, flour, salt, sugar, vegetables, chickens but we finally find an undercover area where women are sat around huge bowls. One is full of ready prepared black tea on coals to keep it piping hot and one is some kind of cold soup. We get a pot of tea between us and sit on the wooden bench, then we get some fresh bread from the little girl behind us. Quite cheap, 500Kwacha for the tea and the same for the bread. There is not much else to see in the town, local shops and a few restaurants. We choose the busiest one for lunch and have fish, rice and coleslaw followed by some cold beers. We also make friends with some local boys who are playing some fighting game with home-made hats. After bucket showers and a lay down after the all night bus ride we have dinner in another restaurant. This one is full of sofas and blaring music. Once again there are no menus so you have to guess some food and ask for it. We get some reheated chicken and rice which tastes ok, but is more pricey than the freshly cooked lunch.
The next day Andrew is ill so spends the day in bed while I source food and water from the town. Most places only sell small bottles of water so I have to visit 3 grocery stores before I find large bottles. Each grocery specialises in different foods, but unless you are local it's impossible to know which has what. It seems that many deliveries have come in today so the town is heaving with customers and the shops have boxes and crates piled high outside. I find what I need after lots of questions and walking around in the blazing heat.
The harbour has had word that the Liemba ferry is not coming in, it often runs only every 2 weeks and this week they have 2 excuses. The UN has used it again to take refugees from Congo and most of the employees of the ferry are Muslim so don't want to work during ramadan. I go into immigration where Mr Mbayo speaks better English and can help me with an alternative. There are no cargo ships expected for another week so he suggests we get a small boat to Kasanga in Tanzania and then get a cargo ship from there, a much busier port apparently.
So the next day, we get stamped out of Zambia in the port and then walk to the other market in town which is on the lake shore and has many boats transporting people around. 4 kids help me out on my reconnaissance mission, Rone, Don, Emmanuel and Junior. They speak very little English but they all hold onto my hands and arms anyway and take me from person to person once I tell them I want to go to Kasanga. When I get back later with my bags and Andrew, the negotiations have to start again. The captain now wants 500,000 Kwacha per person for the journey, so we start a new conversation with another boat and get it down to 200,000 for both of us. After sitting in the boat for an hour we are told the one next door will leave sooner, so our bags are quickly moved over, Andrew's nearly falls in as the guy carrying it takes a tumble but he's well trained so he gets soaked to the waist but the bag remains dry! We then also have to jump over quickly as the boat is already pulling out from the shore. I nearly fall in myself as my balance is not good at the best of times and even worse in a rocking boat.
The boat has a variety of passengers, men with briefcases, women and children carrying bowls of groceries and sugar cane, families with suitcases looking richer than the average village person and many men in charge of the boat, 2 in charge of bailing out water for most of the journey. We stop at a couple of fishing villages and drop off a few people. Then at the last Zambian stop, us and the remaining passengers all switch over to a smaller boat. In all of the stops from this point on we attract all the children of each village. They scream 'Mzungu' at us and love waving, calling hello and how are you. When we get a camera out, they all scream and pose for the photo, they are having a whale of a time. Finally after 5 hours of boat travel we arrive in Kasanga, although it is not the large port we are expecting. It does not even have a road as there are hardly any vehicles at all. It is mainly sand tracks with thatched huts. Luckily our boat crew and very helpful and take us to a guest house as we get out of the boat in the rushes so can't even see a path to the village. The guesthouse is even more than basic. There is no electricity so we are shown the rooms by lamp, each room has a bed and small, insufficient mosquito net only. Outside there is a squatter toilet and what is said to be a shower. But it's just a dirty room with a bucket, it must just have better drainage than the other rooms... One of the boys there, Patrick a 19yr old student, helps us around as there is no way to know what anything is. First he gets the local foreign exchange man to visit as we have no Tanzanian Shillings. Then we go to the local shop for water, last stop is a 'restaurant' for my dinner as Andrew is still not eating. It's a shack with tables and chairs and a hatch through which you order food. I have rice, beans and meat and also a random plate of tomato, only 1500 shil. Back to the guest house where we meet some more foreigners who are crazily cycling around Africa! Once it's dark there is no much to do, so it's bed time with reading by head torch. Not much sleep possible though as a local couple are having very noisy sex in the opposite room and as there are no ceilings we are basically all in the same room but with dividers!

Next harbour trip so more disappointing news. This harbour is even smaller than in Mpulungu and they don't expect a cargo ship for 2 weeks and the Liemba should arrive next Friday which is too late. They do help us with bus and immigration information though, unfortunately all of this is the other side of town which is a 2 hours walk away! We opt to not walk and get a local fisherman to take us in his canoe instead. 5000Shil for the journey including carrying out bags to the canoe. This is a much smaller boat so the balance is scary, also we are taking on water as usual but as both blokes are paddling with oars I have to bail while also keeping my balance with my 15kg day pack on my back! They take us to the lodge instead of the guest house, but that works out well. It is much more expensive at 40,000 per night, but is slightly nicer. Still no electricity but well built beach huts and en suite bucket bathroom, with a ceiling free-fall water shower system. The owner is amazingly helpful as we still have no Tanzanian passport stamp and don't really know where the bus to Sumbawanga leaves from. He pre-books the bus for us and gives us a guard to escort us to the pick up point in the morning, he then calls the immigration man to visit us as the lodge. As we don't care about receipts, we manage a sneaky deal. The immigration man turns up with the official stamp and meets us in a hidden room in the main lodge reception, we pay him $40 instead of $50 and he stamps our passports, winner! I also insist on reusing a page to prevent my passport filling too quickly.
We take advantage of the opportunity of the nicer surroundings to sit on the beach and paddle in the lake, now I've taken the Bilharzia tablets I feel safe in the water. About 4 local families turn up and their kids spend the afternoon playing in the lake, richer than the average family with western clothes, disposable nappies and toys. In the evening the owner checks we have everything we need, he wants us to spread the word of the lodge as not many foreigners go there, so he's overly helpful. He gets our shower system filled with hot water, brings us more bottles of water and phones to reconfirm our seats on the bus.
At 3:30am we have a knock on the door, it's the lodge owner with 2 guards who will carry our bags up the hill to the road, it's actually 4:30, we didn't know that Tanzania had a time difference to Zambia, oops! The bus arrives on time, amazingly, and is already standing room only. They pile our bags at the front and kick 2 people out of seats so that we can have then. It's then a bumpy ride to the part of Kasanga we stayed in the night before, we also continue to the end of the road to the port to drop off some workers. Then it's a long gruelling 7 hours to Sumbawanga. We stop intermittently to pick people up and drop people off, we also have a tea stop at 9am where some of the men struggle to pump one of the tyres up. On some of the steeper hills, the standing passengers have to get out and walk as we don't have the power to make it otherwise. The road is dusty the whole journey, but the bus is also stuffy and smelly so it's a constant battle of opening and closing the window. We also have to stop again to change a tyre, not surprising when you look at the rocks we are driving over.
We reach Sumbawanga at about 1pm, and even though the guide book says there are afternoon buses to Mpanda, there are of course none. I wander about asking locals who only speak Swahili but finally find a land cruiser going to Mpanda, no-one knows when as the driver is missing, but we load our bags onto the roof anyway. He is finally found and says he will leave at 3, the journey is 4 hours and costs 15000shillings. The back of the land cruiser has been gutted and has two narrow bench seats on either side, not too uncomfortable, compared to the buses we've been crammed into before. We start to leave early but this turns out to just be a change of parking space to try and attract more passengers, on our way at 3, we stop for fuel and everyone pays, it is satisfying to see everyone paying the same price as us! About 10minutes down the road, we stop to get one more passenger, the driver insists you can have 6 people per bench and there are only 5 on our side. Unfortunately, the newest passenger is pretty large and the remaining bench space is smaller than one of his legs, that does not stop him trying though, even as I scream in pain as he squashes and pinches my leg. We manage to persuade a small bloke from the other side to swap with the man, and then we all fit, albeit snugly. The top hatch of the car is opened, which is great as it's now quite hot inside, this also helps us to catch the falling luggage as we notice it has not been secured correctly... The road is once again dirt track, but slightly smoother in this vehicle than the bus. After a couple of hours we stop for food, we don't have any though as we prefer to wait for the destination town. Once the driver is back, he gives the customary horn beep for warning, and a couple more passengers come running back. 2 more beeps and no sight of the missing 3, so we resort to the ultimate tactic, driving off! Finally 2 men come running and the large man waddles behind them. I am next to the door so stand with my head out the roof to let people in, the large man always manages to stand on me or put all of his weight on my hand! After about 30mins we have a flat tyre, which is unsurprising, so we pull over and change it for the spare. The car falls off the jack, so rather than lower the jack and start again, all of the men lift the car high enough to just put the jack back under, brilliant idea. The tyre change takes no more than 30mins and we're off again. It seems like we're on track, but then as it starts to get dark we pass a truck which has shredded its tyre. We have no idea why we are stopping, we assume to help but finally we work it out. The truck has a compressor, so we take our flat tyre apart, mend the inner tube, put it back together and pump it back up. Good idea as we may get another flat, but this takes about an hour, especially as much of it is done in the dark with mobile phone light, so we are now far behind schedule. Also the dark brings the small bloke next to me to start stroking my leg, ridiculous! After dropping a few people off and rearranging the luggage a few times, we finally arrive in Mpanda at 10:30. The driver shows us where our bus the next day leaves from, so we find a guest house nearby and start the search for food. Many places have stopped serving, so some helpful English speaking people get a local bloke to lead us across town to a bar called Serengeti. Here we have the speciality of chipsi and egg, which is basically a chip omelette. After travelling for 18 hours we'll eat anything! The guest house has running water and we are brown from the road track dust so shower quickly before bed at 1am.

We deserve a rest but have to keep moving to get to Bujumbura on time, so up at 6 and back to the drop off point. Of course, this is incorrect and no buses leave from here to Kigoma. Once again a helpful local says he's going to the other bus station, so we follow him across town. We would never find these places on our own as we have no map and the town is a series of dirt roads which look very similar. We find the bus, this time a large one, as we get given assigned seats. There are even 2 more mzungu on board, 2 Germans who speak Swahili. This turns out to be one of our best bus journeys as we have 3 seats to ourselves for the first 5 hours. Only when we stop in a large town do we pick up standing passengers so all seats must be filled. The road is no better from the previous day, but this doesn't stop the driver speeding along like a speed racer. Many times I am completely flung from my seat into the air, luckily I am not below the luggage rack so less chance of hitting my head. Makes it almost impossible to nap though so the 11 hours pass slowly. We have a couple of breaks along the way, no toilets though, only bushes. And we manage to buy some food out of the window, bananas, water and local cake type things, seem to be deep fried and taste of nothing, ok if eaten with a banana though. Once again the dust is flying around the bus but we only have one window, instead of 2, next to us, so can only close one half or the other, therefore making no difference. Good job I didn't bother to wash my hair the night before, just adding to the layer of dirt already in it. We arrive at Kigoma earlier than expected at 6pm, and get a taxi to a guest house with a lake view. More expensive than normal, at 35,000 a room, but it has electricity and running hot water which have become luxuries and even a balcony looking at the lake! The best thing is that they also have a restaurant with a menu, so I have Zanzibar fish in a coconut sauce. After many days of not eating properly it's 2 beers and we're both tipsy, so a nice early night to catch up on sleep.

Next mission, investigating boats from Kigoma to Bujumbura, there are meant to be many, both passenger and cargo. We visit 2 port offices but they all confirm that no boats of any kind go to Bujumbura any more, so we need a new bus plan! At least there is a sight to see here, a 10min dalla dalla, minibus taxi, ride up the road is Ujiji, the oldest market town in Africa and also the supposed location where Henry Morten Stanley said 'Dr Livingstone, I presume' We visit the memorial and museum for 5000 shillings, there's not much to see but the guide is very well informed and explains all of Livingstone's life and the travel of his body back to Britain.
Livingstone was sent by Queen Victoria to Africa to promote Christianity, he spent much of his life exploring the lakes and rivers and trying to abolish the slave trade. He discovered the Victoria Falls and named them after the Queen. After his wife died, he sent his children home to finish their education and continued his work in Zambia, Tanzania and DRC. He eventually died and his loyal servants who he had saved from slave caravans, preserved his body and took it back to Britain on a year long mission from Zanzibar, one dying on the way. The memorial is on the spot where a mango tree used to grow, this has since died but more have been planted in the vicinity. The lake is also now over 400m away from the site due to the receding shore line.
We spend the afternoon in the posh Lake Tanganyika hotel on the lake shore, this looks completely out of place and far to expensive for any local tourists. The drinks are even expensive for us, the signature margarita which is the only cocktail the barman knows is 4 quid and 2 long island ice teas which he claims he can mostly remember is the same price as our hotel room!!
Next morning is another early one, the taxi turns up at 5:30 and is an extortionate 12000 shillings because it's dark... The 'bus depot', I.e. dirt lay by, seems to have no buses even though we were told they leave regularly from 5am. But we discover that taxis also go to the border for the same price as the minibuses. Unfortunately there are no other passengers to fill the taxi, as they like 5 to fill it, so we decide to pay 30,000 to leave immediately as this is the same as full taxi. With our bags I'm not sure 5 people would have fitted anyway. This is also quicker than a minibus and only takes an hour. The road is through an uninhabited area but for some reason has speed bumps, and not normal ones, these are so high that a car could easily get stranded on the top. We have to drive incredibly slowly and perpendicular to the road, so that when we cross at an angle there is a third wheel on the bump before the front ones reaches the ground to prevent getting stuck. It seems odd then that we pass through a village which has no speed bumps!
We arrive at immigration just before 7am so it's not open, but the official arrives shortly so not a problem. As soon as he reads our entry stamp of Kasanga he asks for our receipt, clearly that border is known for it's dodgy dealings, we obviously claim ignorance and he believes us, phew!
We are now next to a newly flattened dirt road which only has traffic of men on push bikes loaded with bananas and pineapples. The immigration office is officially the border even though there is no barrier, so we wait for a Burundian taxi bringing people the opposite way to turn up to take us across properly. The guide book says the nearest immigration is about 50km from the border, but as usual is wrong and there is an office just inside the border with Burundi. Now comes French practise again... They are more sophisticated here with passport scanners and computers, but they can only give us a 3 day visa which costs $20!! We will need to get it extended in Bujumbura. The taxi continues along a very bad rocky, dirt road to Mbanda. We have 4 adults and a child in the back and 2 passengers in the front seat, which is often the norm. A new occurrence is when we stop to take in another passenger though, he shares the driver seat. Maybe not so unusual except that the car is a manual so the driver has to reach over the man to change gear!! The whole hour drive is through villages and farming areas where the street is lined with men riding bananas on their push bikes. When we reach the hill each push bike has the man pushing and steering, and then a woman also pushing from the rear. The closer we get to Mbanda the more pedestrians appear also carrying bananas on their heads. We are stopped by numerous officials and have our passports checked a few times but no problems and we are always waved on. We pass a few refuge camps run by the UN so white people are probably quite common on this road. Once in Mbanda we switch to a minibus, as usual we are squidged in, 4 to a row, and it's a painful 3 hours to Bujumbura. We hadn't noticed until now, as the taxi to Mbanda drove all over the road avoiding potholes, that they drive on the right in Burundi. You also can't tell from the vehicles as it seems 90% are imported Toyotas so are right hand drive, even the minibuses often have the exit slide door in the centre of the road! The road to Buje is luckily tarmac but pot holed and busy so we weave in and out of the traffic, bicycles, pedestrians, cattle etc. We also stop to see a crash at one point, a small truck is down the bank, smashed into a tree, with about 50 spectators! Finally in Bujumbura at 12:30, bring on the 2 days relaxing before the tour!

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