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Tanzania We dance around in circles, talking in innuendo and riddles, trying to escape a worse fate. Suddenly the shattering realisation that our dream of travelling through Africa, from Cape Town to London, all that way in Truckasaurus…without paying a single bribe is no more. I bring up the sickening sentence, “Can we simply pay an on the spot fine?” Shattered, I begin the negotiation process as Jacinda considers what they might have for dinner in the Dar central lockup tonight. Crossing into Tanzania on the car ferry was a relatively straight forward affair in the end, once you got over the wait, being stamped out of a country and not entering another for a day, forgetting about the ferry only having one engine that worked and the fact that it listed badly to one side requiring the cars to be parked to one side to balance the boat somewhat (the side that was higher out of the water). The boarder post at Kilambo was very straightforward. Ana and Antonio were told that it was difficult to get a Tanzania visa at the boarder so they had invested several hours getting one beforehand. Jacinda and I decided to turn up at the boarder without one and chance our arm so to speak. It only took us a few extra minutes in the end to get one on the spot – a saving of several hours. Tanzania has put a blanket US$50 fee on most visas although the residents of the United States are charged US$100. We headed to Mtwara to buy some food and supplies. Thankfully Tanzania has a lot more ATM’s these days so getting hold of some cash was very easy. At the boarder we had tried to exchange all our Mozambique currency but were greeted with a bad rate (the usual conversation of “it’s a good rate” “a good rate for who, you or me?”). We talked to the guy who had issued us with our visa and he told us, “I might be able to help with a better rate, come”. We were led out the back to his office where he proceeded to open a locked draw with large bundles of cash inside. “How much do you want to exchange?” Wow a real eye opener; come to my cupboard of neatly folded money… We were also able to organise some third party insurance on a brown card while we were in Mtwara that will cover us until we leave Egypt – or should I say stop corrupt police officers from asking for a bribe because we don’t have insurance until we leave Egypt. You usually get it at the boarder of each country, but if you stay less than a month you have paid for insurance you don’t use. It also saves hassle at boarders, time and effort. We spent the night camped on the beach at Ruvula Sea Safari not far from the boarder. While the beach had corals and fish a few meters from the beach it was overpriced (US$12pppn) and no one gave a rats arse about service – unlike Pangane in Mozambique that was only US$5pppn and the service was great. Still you take the good with the bad – at least we were camping right on the beach. The price in the LP was around USD $4pppn so the prices have risen dramatically while the standard of service has a inversely proportional relationship to movements in the price. Heading north we reached Kilwa Masoko and decided to take a boat trip (seem to be spending considerable time getting around by boat lately) to see the ruins on Kilwa Kisiwani. The ruins make a worthwhile daytrip but the campsite at Kilwa Seaview Resort leaves a lot to be desired. It is an ant infested mosquito ridden overpriced patch of dirt. To add insult to injury we decided to get some washing done here and had several items of clothing ruined. They came back with holes and burn marks. I demanded to see the manager who insisted we still pay for our accommodation and meals before we sorted out the matter of compensation for our clothes. I was not going to pay a cent and realised our stocks had gone up considerably when Jacinda and Antonio moved the cars to the main car park where they were not trapped behind a gate in the camping area. As he was not prepared to negotiate in a reasonable manner I tore up our bill, through it at him and said we were leaving. “You can’t leave, you have to pay”. “I am not paying a sent you have ruined our clothes”. “I will be stopping you from leaving until you pay”. “Mate you cant stop us from leaving, go ahead and try”. “We will see about that,” he shouted as he stormed off towards the camping area to secure the gate after the horse had bolted, not realising that the horse in question (Truckasaurus) was free to roam. We hopped in the car and drove off somewhat nervously as the guards at the campsite had guns. Without being able to block our exit he had no power to do anything further and as he would not want the owner to find out probably would not involve the police. He was all bluff, although we were a bit anxious at the next few police road blocks. The camping and meals were nowhere near the value of the clothes they had damaged, but it was a matter of principle that we get some compensation. Warning – do not stay there, it is not worth it for the way they do business and for the stinking ants that bite you from sun up till sun down. Heading for Dar Es Salaam we then hit probably the worst roads we have yet encountered. Rocky corrugations, combined with potholes and deep slick mud that created a traffic jam in the middle of the bush of several dozen buses and trucks. There were trucks stuck everywhere in the deep mud meaning that it took a few hours to weave through them. What should have been a few hours by road turned into a whole day of driving through mud and choking dust broken up by patches of bone jarring corrugations – I hate corrugations, really they are no fun and rattle everything to pieces. Corrugations are beginning to shit us almost as much as the mosquitos. I make a habit of going over the car regularly to check for loose or cracked bits of Truckasaurus or his associated accessories. Both Truckasaurus and his bolted on bits are doing better than expected. We got stuck in more road works through Dar before we finally arrived at the Silver Sands Hotel (sounds really flash but it is not) on the northern beaches of Dar – a better accommodation option that Dar itself. It is cheep to camp there, although the proliferation of veracious mosquitos soon takes the gloss off the price. They bite through jeans (although it is too hot and humid to wear jeans) and swarm in plague proportions in the showers – a good water saving measure though as you are restricted to thirty second showers and a mad dash for the DEET. We had decided to leave Truckasaurus with Land Rover for a service and for them to fix a leak betwwe the auto and the transfer case (another victim of the corrugations I suspect) while we head across (yes in another boat) to Zanzibar for a rest. Zanzibar is, to quote a famous Aussie swimmer, “Fully Sick”. It is a fusion of Black Africa and the Middle East, a legacy of centuries of Arab trading and a long gone slave trade. Beautiful old colonial buildings are being repainted and the narrow streets are a buzz with trading and shops (and also an increase in cars and scooters unfortunately). It is this bizarre place that captures you and makes you want to stay for just one more day, maybe two, maybe three. Antonio, Ana and myself got in several great dives around Stone Town and also north at Mnemba. The later is truly amazing. We had 27oC water, 25m visibility and a profusion of corals and large schooling fish, not to mention several turtles. It would rate as some of the top 5 best diving I have done. It is best to do Stone Town first and then the north coast, for while Stone Town is good it does not have the abundance of fish that you get away from an obviously heavily fished area. At least Ana and Antonio had a chance to dive their first wreck, so its all good. It makes me eager to get to the Red Sea in Egypt for more great diving. On Zanzibar, dive with One Ocean, they are the best operator on the island, a five star PADI dive centre and really professional and friendly. Jacinda, who is unable to dive due to Asthma, was able to enjoy some really good snorkelling. She saw many fish and bright corals as well as her first lionfish and sea snake. When we were not diving we were eating seafood, drinking cold beers and Jacinda was doing spice tours or shopping for cloth. We ended up staying a week, but could have stayed longer. My only disappointment was the seafood stalls were not as cheep as they used to be. An influx of tourists has forced the prices up making eating at a restaurant almost a cheaper option. Still you can’t expect everything to remain the same in this day and age. It was with great reluctance that we boarded the ferry for the two-hour trip back to the mainland. Still you have to say good-bye to a great place in order to experience other great places. That’s the reality of travel. Zanzibar rocks, so go there. We returned to Dar somewhat apprehensive as the bitter taste of having to pay a bribe to stay out of gaol was still fresh in our minds even a week after the event. Before we went to Zanzibar, we were wondering the streets of down town Dar when I was stopped by a machine gun wielding soldier/police officer who did not like that I was wearing camo trousers (a fashion item in Australia). Apparently it is illegal in Tanzania to wear anything resembling military spec. People had told us that it was ok to wear it but we have found out that in Tanzania it is illegal and locals get dragged to prison and beaten sometimes to death. Given the conflicting reports we received both before and after the event, don’t wear it at all, better to leave it at home. We soon got the feeling that we, as western cashed up tourists, were worth more alive than dead. He insisted that we be dragged off to the police station, charged and thrown into gaol. By this stage Jacinda had wondered over to see what the fuss was about and as fate would have it she was also wearing camo. We insisted that we would go straight to our car and change into other clothing but he would have none of that, sensing the opportunity to ‘earn some overtime’. I began walking back to the car hoping to get changed before he could stop us and avoid the situation entirely. It became clear that this wonderful public official wanted money to keep us out of the slammer. With great reluctance I asked if we could pay an on the spot fine to make this all go away. He warmed to the idea and insisted that he go in our car to a much quieter place than a busy Dar street. This would have forced the price up considerably so I resisted this move with distractions of ‘seven different kinds of smoke’. I asked him “what is the usual amount for an on-the-spot fine”. “How much do you want to pay?” he asked brandishing his shinny machine gun in an effort to get a favourable price. “How about 20,000TSh” I replied (about AUD $20). He didn’t understand so I wrote the amount in the dust on Truckasaurus’s window. He looked around the crowded street to see who was watching and wrote US$100. We eventually settled on around AUD $60 ( I wanted to bargain further sensing room for further discounting but Jacinda though that was a fair price to avoid prison food). Once paid however he then insisted on twice that again (120,00Tsh) for his boss. I assured him that his boss didn’t need to know about it, “I don’t want you to get in trouble mate, so its best your boss doesn’t need to know, its easier for you that way”. We piled into the car, quite bitter at the whole experience. TIA…or as is more apt, AWA – Africa wins again. A few tips with this sort of situation. Remain calm. They usually want money. Stall for time and negotiate at your own pace (we insisted that we first had to go into a shop and then we would do what he wanted, he had a gun and could not come inside with us given us a chance to calm down and organise strategy). Always remain in a crowded place; once alone he has no fear of being found our and the price will be higher. Be firm but polite and have one person negotiating as they will sense weakness and focus on the easiest target. We had left Truckasaurus at Land Rover for a minor service and to fix a leak from the seal between the transmission and the transfer case. When we returned from Zanzibar we were told that it was fixed, all it needed was a few bolts tightened. Somewhat dubious we headed on our way. It was the sort of problem that needed the engine running for a while before it would present itself. True to form it did present itself some distance down the road. You would expect that a Land Rover dealer in a major city should be able to fix the problem, especially when it was explained to them. We would have to replace the seal later on, but it would be third time lucky. Heading from Dar we made a beeline for Lushoto in the highlands between Dar and Arusha. Along the way Antonio was pulled over by the police while they tried to extort a fine from him for allegedly doing 99km/h in a 80km/h zone. We were actually doing around 85km/h at the time and Antonio played the “don’t speak English, only Spanish” card. The officer, sensing the opportunity for an ‘on the spot fine’ fading fast waved them on their way. The bus drivers in Tanzania are maniacs; there is no better word to describe how they drive. They frequently exceed the speed limit, and their speciality is overtaking on a blind hill on a bend. There is no way they can see on coming traffic, but they don’t seem to care. The amazing thing is not the number of crashes on the road, rather that there is not a lot more than there is. The roads are crazy and it takes a while to learn how to drive over here. I think I am becoming a good African driver, the only worry is the damage I could cause and the road rage I will inspire when I return to Australia. AWA. You also see a lot of what I term ‘crab buses’. These are buses or trucks that are so mechanically decrepit that they actually drive almost sideways. You frequently see them tearing along at high speed and instead of pointing straight ahead like a mechanically sound vehicle should, they are on a 30o angle, rear end pointing outwards in an attempt to remain straight. The passengers in the back seats actually see more of the road ahead than the driver. The Tanzanians always say to you ‘pole pole (pronounced polay polay)’ which means slowly slowly. This is usually brought out when you try to walk away form them harassing you to buy something in the streets. Get them behind the wheel of a bus or car and they seem never to have heard of pole pole let alone ‘Africa Time’. They are mad drivers, it’s that simple. Heading to Arusha we made it as far as Moshi and were greeted the next morning at dawn to a fleeting glimpse of the snow capped peak of Mt Kilimanjaro in the distance. It is a beautiful mountain and deserving of a famed post card icon for Africa. We decided to drive around the base of the mountain to see some scenery off the beaten track. The landscape changes from masses of banana trees and villages to windswept crazing land and Masai herders. The Masai are very regal people, tall, colourful and adorned with jewellery. Unfortunately they are also very shrewd and insist on payment for any photo. Many will approach the car and ask, “You want photo?” Winding our way through low range tracks, past villages, passing through rain showers and occasionally catching a glimpse of Mt Meru in the distance made for a very scenic and enjoyable days drive (although Jacinda has a habit ok keeping left of left on African roads and got us stuck in a ditch on the side of the road – we had to swap drivers and I had to get us out. She then started straying to the other side of the road and went to sleep a few times necessitating a further driver change. To be fair we both had a ripper head cold and were exhausted by the end of the day). As night fell we returned to Moshi, tied yet satisfied. The next day we headed for Arusha to organise a Serengeti safari. We had weighed up the costs of doing it ourselves, but the prices that foreigners are charged to enter the park makes it considerably cheaper to do it through a safari company. We first headed to the tourist office to get a copy of the black listed safari companies. There are a lot of companies that come and go overnight and those with a bad reputation are black listed. In true Tanzanian form though, there is no list that you can take away, just a collection of business cards in a folder, which meant that Jacinda had to sit down and write her own list. Having been warned not to organise a tour through any of the street touts, we made our way to find a suitable company. Inevitably we were swamped by the street touts wanting to take us to the company that would give them commission. I turned to one persistent fellow and told him that we would not deal with people on the street. He insisted on following us into every office we looked at. I said to him that all he would get would be exercise… We ended up going through Bobby Safari Tours. As he had a workshop we asked if he could fix the leak from the auto and transfer case. He assured us that he could and when we returned from our tour, we were charged for several seals, oils and labour. Later in Kenya we found that the cheating swine had just patched up the leak with silicon meaning that we had to try a third time to fix the problem. We will outline where we got it fixed in Kenya on the Kenya page when it is posted, but at the time of writing we think we have found the best workshop in Africa here in Nairobi. We stayed at the Masai Camp in Arusha. It would rate as the loudest place we have stayed in and drove us insane. Africa has the big five (Lion, Leopard, Rhino, Buffalo and Elephant) but the real big five should be barking dogs, loud music, Locals partying through the night, crazed bus drivers and people trying to sell you stuff you know you don’t need or want. We left for our six-day safari through Lake Manyara, the Serengeti, Ngorongoro and Tarangire NP. While we stayed in tents that we left over from the American Civil War, had bad food and no cold beer for six days, the parks themselves are amazing, although the Tanzanian Parks charge a lot of money for very little in facilities. Compared to camps in Namibia and Botswana, Tanzanian facilities are not worth what you pay. They know however that people come to these parks regardless of what they charge or what the state of the facilities. That said, they are amazing places and it is easy to see why most of the doco’s filmed in Africa are filmed in the Serengeti and Ngorongoro areas. We came close to a lion kill right in front of our car. The lion stalked wildebeest, exploded out of the scrub and got within a few metres of securing a kill before running out of puff several metres from us. Amazing. Next on the agenda is a few weeks in Kenya, then Uganda and then returning to Kenya before heading for Ethiopia.