travellingbennetts

It is just before lunch on Day 35, and we have broken free of the bureaucratic bonds of Kenya at the Namanga crossing quite easily. A ride up a hill to the slightly less salubrious Tanzania immigration shed and we started the process for the fifth time of the trip. A disinterested observation of immigration is that the outcome is always the same, but the process, the forms, and the timing are always different. Sometimes vastly. Tanzania smashed all previous records for time taken to get a visa, with the passport handed over along with the form and the $US50, and then well over an hour later getting the completed document back. In the meantime, a large crowd crammed the hot and sweaty hut while the passport and money receivers completely out-paced the visa providers.

The pronunciation of Tanzania was a pre-arrival point of conjecture, some say Tan-zane-ia, while most aligned with Tan-zan-ia, but as only Bayne had ever been before the jury was still out. As it turned out, even the locals seemed to be mixed, but there was a pre-dominance of Tan-zan-ia with those we dealt with including an immigration official. No-one was found to be getting too excited about it though.

Eventually through immigration and completely stuffed with cashews bought from one of the apparently stateless individuals who seem able to access all ‘tween border areas, we hit the road for the 110km to Arusha, Cindy firmly mounted to the Tiger pillion seat. Ride leader Andrew had given very clear advice regarding enforcement of speed zones in Tanzania, with the Tanzanian police swarming the roads. This sage advice wasn’t heeded by ride leader Andrew, who only made it to the first town before the thin blue net caught him. Cindy and I were also clocked doing 79kmh in the 50kmh zone, so joined him on the side of the road. The evidence of a speed gun photo was exhibit A, not much room for wiggle for me with the distinctive Tiger headlights, but Andrew probably had a case with completely different lights than his bike. The whole process is done with good humour, no dogma, and plenty of room for discussion and negotiation. I rolled over easily with the TZS30,000 on-the-spot fine, equivalent to A$15, and with the forms completed we were back on the road.

The lesson had been learned, but the Tanzanian speed limit signs are diabolical. The 50kmh limit sign coming into town is often small, barely legible, and there is no “slow down” slack allowed, must be doing 50kmh before the sign. By the time the sign is seen, mentally processed, and appropriate signals scheduled through the neuron network, the result is usually full emergency front and rear braking with ABS working overtime to slow down quickly enough. To make it worse, there is often no de-restriction sign out the other end, so given that there are very few areas along roads without houses, it becomes very high stress guessing what the allowed speed is.

The run into Arusha was roadworks drama along the main road, with some skill acquired lane filtering with a pillion. A learning was that it really doesn’t seem to make any difference, unless the pillion suddenly decides to ease an aching cheek by shifting suddenly while the pilot is attempting to ride between cars with 2mm clearance each side. And finally, our hotel which was the base for the coming week was reached. Sweating profusely, the welcome drink disappeared in microseconds. A fourth floor room was rejected by the partially disabled pillion, resulting in the two of us crammed in a single room on the ground floor. After ATM, bottle-shop, and dinner, we were straight to bed to listen to party rock from the pub up the road until the wee hours.

Day 36 was an early start, but dressed in full tally-ho safari regalia rather than the usual filthy riding gear. Two long-wheel base Landcruisers were ready at 7am through Bee-Eater & Honey Safaris, so we piled in with our minimalist luggage for the long drive out to the Serengeti. On the way through Arusha, we passed the clock tower shown in the cover photo which is the supposed half way point between Cairo and Cape Town. The safari companies obey the speed limits to the letter, making the morning run out through the ‘burbs and up to the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater very slow.

This journey was our first “African Tourist Swarm – Director’s Cut”. Even Egypt couldn’t muster the numbers of European and North American people crowding the gift shop at the stop on the way, with fifty identical Landcruisers jamming the car park. The probably made in China stuff purchased to help the local community back in Guangdong Province, we were back in the cruiser to the rim of the crater (actually an enormous volcano caldera) for our boxed lunch. Warnings from the guides about eating outside the car due to “the kites” duly ignored, we headed for a tree to sit under. Half way there the sight of 747-sized marabou storks coming into land right next to us was a bit nerve straining, these things are huge and have a head like a mad, balding, and fully goitered Englishman who spent all yesterday in the sun without a hat. And he wants to introduce himself as you stand there holding your lunch box.

The cranes realised to be minimal threat, the kites were indeed the risky luncheon predator, precision swooping on any hand-held sandwich or apple and grabbing it, and a fair bit of skin, in a performance fully appreciated by those who heeded the advice to stay in the car. Once off the volcanic rim and out of the Masai villages, the dead flat and treeless plains known as the Serengeti start to appear.

After stopping to register into the park on an office area on a kopje poking up from the grassy plain, the road deteriorated severely into an end-of-dry-season corrugated and potholed mess. The only distraction from the nasty road was the huge numbers of wildebeest and zebra crossing the plain on their great migration to the south. Although not going as far as us on the C2C, at least we don’t have to worry about being old, sick, or slow and being overtaken by Harley riders.

By the end of the day’s drive, we had ticked off two more of the big five in lion and elephant, and arrived in the rain at the Glamp. The challenges for Cindy on crutches were significant, with slippery mud and puddles making her a potential victim for Harley riders. Escort by a member of staff with a torch was an essential service after dark, with hyena on the waiting list surrounding the camp and hoping to force a cancellation.

Day 37 was an early swing around the Serengeti to catch sight of a few more big ones, including cheetah and the last of the official African big five, leopard. Then after a home-made lunch from the Glamp and by now completely bored with animals that would have sent us into paroxysms of joyful wonder only a week earlier, we started the long and rough road back to the Ngorongoro Crater for our overnight accommodation.

After a long but fun day catching up with the group members in the other truck who needed constant reminding that they had somehow managed to not see the 16 elephant in line the day before, we arrived at the Rhino Lodge on the Ngorongoro Crater rim. The traditional pre-dinners and a nice buffet followed promises to the English manager not to go outside the grounds due to marauding buffalo and elephant, and then to bed in high quality accommodation.

Day 38 was a third early start in a row to hit the Crater, or the Caldera for the geological purists. The descent is one way but on reasonable quality road, while the roads in the crater are generally very poor, boggy, and rough which is a bit surprising as they are effectively permanent. The other car group got off to a good start with early elephant, and compared to the Serengeti it was African Animal Observation for Idiots, with no organism even vaguely perturbed by a fleets of cruisers stopped 3 feet away. Probably the animal highlight of the C2C so far was the lowly baboon, with a large group watched for ages as they acted exactly like a large western suburbs family on holidays in a beachside caravan park.

More lion including cubs was another big moment, not quite as big for some as our driver Emmanuel not deploying the front wheel hub locks until it was too late, and soon our elephant-sighting derived dominance was a distant memory as the other cruiser mob crowded around our bogged vehicle being completely obstructive.

After a lunch at a lake picnic spot where some still hadn’t picked up on the kite swoop risk, and a few photos of the inevitable hippos that seem to occupy every body of fresh water greater than a bath tub in sub-Saharan Africa, we made the ascent out of the crater on the best road in Tanzania, before the return to Arusha. Back re-united with our hotel room, after kicking out a semi-naked bloke who’d got there first somehow but didn’t have the key, it was off to the ATM, bottle shop, restaurant, and bed to listen to an Italian party rock on near the hotel pool until the wee hours.

Day 39 was a really late, then a nearly early, then a half way start due to ZanAir scheduling issues. Ultimately the small 12-seater plane to Zanzibar left at exactly the right time, helped by a lap of the runway and apron and a stop to redistribute the screws between hatches on the fuselage, some of which had a plethora, but others which had insufficient for the two hour flight in the opinion of someone involved.

The flight tracked south of Kilimanjaro, unfortunately well hidden in cloud from a tourism perspective, and unfortunately well avoided from an Air Crash Investigators perspective. Once over the coast, several reefs of Great Barrier quality appeared, and we flawlessly landed at Abeid Amani Karume International Airport to the applause of the passengers who had spent the last two hours expecting to see a hatch rip off catastrophically.

 Next came three days of Zanzibar luxury with one day at the Tembo beachfront hotel at Stone Town and two days on Nungwi Beach at the Z Hotel. White sand and blue water, glorious food, drinks, infinity pools, spa treatments, scuba diving on coral reefs, and swimming in the crystal clear water. Motorcycling can be tough in Africa, so we didn’t do any. Cindy made great progress, graduating from crutches to the walking boot and then to bare foot only, while the glorious days drifted past doing whatever we felt like.

Day 42 dawned with the realisation that we couldn’t just abandon the riding trip and stay in Zanzibar forever, we had to get back to Arusha and back on the bikes. No-one seemed fanatical about leaving, but nevertheless we got up at the right time, were all present and correct at breakfast, and all got on the bus to the airport. Tragically no bomb threats were called in so the flight left on time, and was completely uneventful apart from totally cloud obscured Kilimanjaro being somewhere off to our right.

Once back at our hotel, we selected a room more suited to a mobile Cindy, this time on the first floor. The staff were amazed at her progress; heading to Zanzibar it had been no weight bearing, on return she could walk without crutches. The religious Tanzanian hotel staff had prayed for the healing, so were overjoyed that Jesus had come through for Cindy. A haircut across the road was undertaken by me, with the barber a true artiste, and the three shampoos, rinse, and hair food experience well worth the $2.

As it was the 1^st of March and closing in on someone important’s birthday, a trip up to the Tanzanite Experience in the middle of town was undertaken as had been planned for a long time. The Experience was actually well done, with detailed technical information on mining, processing, and cutting and polishing of the zoisite gem, which has only been in the market since the mid 1960’s. Limited supply of the ore means that one day there will be no more, so the gift might well appreciate. The trip was also Cindy’s last official journey as a mandatory pillion sporting the walker boot. Afterwards, it was to the ATM, bottle shop, and restaurant and then bed to listen to a rave up the road somewhere until the wee hours as per Green Mountain Hotel tradition.

Day 43 was the first day of three days rush south to the border, but didn’t distract from Cindy’s first day back on the bike as a rider. Dodoma was the first day’s target, 430km straight down the middle of Tanzania. The ankle received a baptism of fire with clogged traffic and lane filtering out of Arusha, but passed with riding colours.

The baobab trees made interesting viewing along the way, some very fat and bloated around the base. Tragically the really huge trees were always well off the road next to someone’s house so getting top photos was difficult. The road quality had been expected to be poor, but it had just been completed so was a super-highway for the last hundred kilometres, with virtually no traffic. Roadwork was ongoing, usually supervised by a Chinese engineer as per a lot of African road development.

About 30km out of Dodoma as we pulled away from a photo stop, Cindy noticed that my back wheel was wobbly. We pulled over to investigate, spinning the wheel showed a noticeable wobble. Bayne turned up in the support vehicle, the technical review showed nothing apparently wrong with the rim or bearings or alignment, but there were loose spokes, so the decision was made to tighten them once we got to Dodoma. On arrival at the very business-friendly (ie sterile) hotel, the spokes were revealed to have either come loose or in the case of about eight, broken. How on earth this had happened remains a mystery, but serious effort proceeded to try to source some replacements.

Triumph USA, UK, Australia were all called as Johannesburg was closed, the best the English dealers could do was a set out of Triumph in 3 days, with possible but not hopeful delivery to the next major town of Lilongwe in Malawi by our arrival on the 8^th March. A call to Team Moto Virginia in Brisbane was more hopeful than expectant, but they were extremely helpful by telling me that they simply used Ash’s Spoked Wheels in Capalaba, just down the road from home. This opened up a whole new line of enquiry, as Ash’s had all spoke details, including 2015 Triumph Tiger XCx spokes. How long to make up a dozen? Half an hour said Jack. Can they be put on DHL to Lilongwe Malawi to arrive before the 8^th March? I’ll get them on route immediately said Jack. Amazing service, and the fact that they arrived on 6^th March four days later is just incredible.

So even with plans afoot, the Precious was unride-able until the spokes were fixed, unless I wanted a complete lock-up and a major crash, which I probably didn’t. Fortunately Stan was having time off his 2011 Tiger XC, so kindly offered for me to ride it until he was back on, so my riding record remained intact.

 

Day 44, besides Cindy’s something-tieth birthday, was the 320km ride to the Old Farmhouse at Iringa. Not being on the Precious was somewhat calmed by being on an ancestor of the Precious, so with eyes closed and travelling at 100kmh it could have been the same bike. Group discussion prior and during the day had been about a meteorite crater which was a must-see, so everyone except French Nicolas avoided the Isimila Ruins, which turned out to have spectacular pillars of rock, while the meteorite crater turned out to not exist in the expected place. Not that Nicolas ever mentioned his coup to anyone, and if it did slip out it certainly wasn’t wildly embellished with every telling.

The Old Farmhouse was on a third generation cattle farm, with camping grounds and lodges, fortunately we had the latter. The lodge rooms were the height of rustic luxury, and needed a solid pair of walking shoes to go the distance to the bathroom from the bed. Dinner was magnificent, with the best steak of the continent so far and a champagne and a great bottle of red kindly provided by Adrian and Hera to celebrate Cindy’s something-tieth birthday in style.

Day 45 started well with Cindy’s foot getting a final blessing from a Christian water project volunteer from Albany WA in the internet hut, which built on the solid foundation of the Arusha hotel staff prayers and the support of her Forma Adventure boots, before the run down to Mbeya to set ourselves up for the border crossing into Malawi. The countryside was fairly green and scrubby, with the green-ness supported by the potential for very heavy rain while we were waiting for the support vehicle to show up with the lunch.

 

Bravery in the face of torrential rain not really our strong suit, we abandoned lunch and headed the remaining distance into Mbeya under severe threat, made worse by Cindy stopping to take selfies with the menacing black cloud behind. Everyone fortunately made it to the hotel before the storm hit. Except us, with rivers running down the road, turned into 3m waves by passing trucks. On arrival into Mbeya, we were as drenched as we could be, and our tender humours were further challenged by gridlocked traffic. After about an hour spent getting 1km down the main street, we finally made it to the hotel and quickly set about turning the room into a drying facility before a dinner and a few warming reds and bed.

Day 46 was the last of Tanzania. A ride back down the crowded Mbeya main street got us into a touchy mood, slightly moderated after the 110km to the Kasumulu crossing into Malawi by a lot of tea. By the border, we had ridden at total of around 8,600km and about 40° south since leaving Alexandria. The Tanzanian immigration facility was reasonably modern and reasonably quick, and before we could re-consider, we were thrown onto the mercies of Malawi.

In summary, Tanzania is a relatively modern African country, and in many ways very similar to Kenya. Cars and motorcycles are dominant, besides the ever-present trucks, and the road conditions everywhere outside the Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater are quite good. Electricity appeared available in most places, with the exception of the most rural villages and the semi-nomadic Masai. Fuel was very easy to find, and shops and facilities are  modern. The people are great, both religious and secular, and the mix of religions indicates tolerance is the norm. Generally very helpful, and not expecting of reward, it was a pleasant experience interacting with most people and it was nice to be ignored while riding, uncommon further north. The parks and wildlife are incredible and support a huge industry, but Tanzania also has mining, agriculture, and the tourist Mecca of Zanzibar, so definitely a place to visit.