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Published: April 5th 2009
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Traffic in Dar
Just in case you didn't believe me... Sorry folks, I must apologize for the brief hiatus from blog entry... internet acces in eastern and most of southern Africa is absolutely shite and you pay a small fortune for it!
So we arrive in Dar-es-Salam at rush hour and i swear to all the gods, whomever and where ever they are, that if they get us through this town in less than 4 hours, i will never complain about traffic in Dublin ever again! To help the time pass, we pumped up the volume and conducted our very own dance party in the back of the truck- only a few mohitos were missing! To make our visit to Dar more entertaining- the local children danced alongside our truck- it was precious and they showed us a step or two. I love to see children at play in other countries, it just confirms the fact that no matter where you are from, everyone starts off the same- completely carefree! Its only experience and circumstance that form the monsters, thieves, rebels, leaders, artists, etc. We got through the town in record time- 3 1/2 hours... but we missed the ferry or it was broken down.... you never know here.
Busta Move
The children that danced along side our truck. The one up front in orange showed us a few moves! Our main purpose for coming through Dar is to get to Zanzibar!!! Home of Freddie Mercury, beaches, bikinis, and sun!! Oh and spices. So we're 2 weeks into the overland tour and already I'm fed up with the constant moving from one place to the next: wake up, pack up, take down tent, have breakfast, clean dishes, clean yourself, get in truck, drive for 10 hours having lunch on the side of the road mid way between, get off truck, erect tent, prepare/eat dinner, clean dishes, clean yourself, go to bed. This may leave you with 8 hours for sleeping- no time for yourself or sort out your money issues in the 1 hour you get in town every few days (and no matter how prepared everyone was, everyone had issues with their bank back home), not enjoying my morning cup of tea (oh that is a big problem- for me and those around me)... I can go on. So when we arrive in Zanzibar I opt out of the tours and explore the town with 2 others that felt the same.
Did i mention that this is a mostly muslim region? In some of the most hideous heat,
we have to cover our knees and shoulders and everything inbetween. Why, may I hazard to ask, must you cover those areas? Are knees an eroginous zone that i have yet to explore? Why not the wrist? Wrists, when used correctly, can be quite seductive... Since I had left most of my clothes in to be washed at the last campsite, I had only the unfinished duck-print material that I bought in Dar. I had to tie one piece around my waist and the other around my shoulders and I tell you, there may be something to the way people dress here. Western clothing just doesn't suit. This type of garb is light-weight and protects the skin from the sun. Purely funtional, yes, but you can get some really pretty prints (like my ducks). Day leads to night and the fish market leads to a rastafarian club where, somehow we order the wrong drink and the women behind the bar start throwing a Shene-ne-style fit. We had to be rescued by 2 dread-locked rastas who continued to fill us with insight for the next half hour. Through their broken English I understood one question put forth to me: why does
No shirts, no shoes, then service
Beach bar just outside our dorm room that pump out the greatest dance hits from the 90's... it would have been cool had I been able to enjoy it. From left: Brendan, Lizzy, Livvy, Jeanette a rock sink while a boat floats?... Unfortunately, it will remain a mystery to me and humanity because I could not understand the swahi-nglish answer. On our way back to the hostel we got the normal offer for taxi, being we could see our hostel, we declined the offer and kept walking. Not handling rejection so well the taxi man began offering cocaine, heroine, anything we desired... we quickened the pace.
In the morning we moved on to Nungwi, a region in the north- our home for the next 3 days!! Oh the joy- I get to leave my toothbrush in one spot for 3 whole days! When we enter our highly unfashionably dorm with hideous, sand filled carpet and select our bed, what do I see... bugs! In my bed! Maria was the first to brave the ensuite... there is no seat on the toilet and she came out with the faucet in her hand! But we're right on the beach! Who cares how shite the room is- we will only be sleeping in it, right?
Straight into our bikinis and down to the beach. For those of you who do not know me, I'm pretty white-
not in the rythmically-challenged, republican sense of the word, but I turn red rather quickly when exposed to sun. Of course, I put sun cream on, but... apparently, when the sun is this hot, you should be applying it almost constantly. By the end of the day, the effects of my hour in the sun had proven to give me 2nd degree burn! Before the final effects of the sun set in, I got to view one of the most spectaluar sunsets... since the Serengeti. For the next 3 days, i was in constant agony, I went through every last bit of moisturizer i had and started on someone elses after-sun, i was walking like an old lady and sitting down and getting up like a pregnant woman- I was a sight to see. To make matters worse, the tooth that lost its filling the day before the tour began, began to hurt... The 2 hour bus back to Stonetown was excrutiating and on the ferry back to Dar, I got motion sickness for the first time in my life! It just kept getting better!
Since I can not wait till Capetown to get my cavity filled, the tour company found a respectable denist in Dar for me. Little did I know that they had not called in an appointment and had not given me the number to do so either. When we arrive at this very swank hotel, the receptionist was very hesitant to allow me to see the doctor. After some persuasion by Livvy- my tent buddy who accompanied me- she called the Man and told us to take a seat. Minutes later, a large Swede barges into the office saying he is supposed to be in Aringa at 3 (Aringa is at least a 10 hour drive and it is now 3:30- but knowing my mouth can get me in more trouble here, I say nothing). "You have a problem?"... at this point my tail has gone between my legs and I forget how to speak. "Uhm, yes, I lost a filling." "And how did you lose the filling?".... "I don't know, it just fell out...". He precedes to inform me that fillings don't just fall out and that I'm a fool. In the end, he fixes me up, gives me a package of very strong muscle relaxers, and even begins to joke with us.. after the money has been passed to him, of course.
When we arrive back in camp, our tour driver looks at us and laughs and says "you guys always come back pink!" Proving the old saying that 'Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid day sun'!
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