Bus Ride to Mwanza

I would have called it "The Road to Mwanza", but what the bus travelled on could hardly be called a road. I left my comfy hotel bed in Arusha at 5am and after the taxi broke down on the way to the bus station I boarded a very very old coach bound for Mwanza in western Tanzania on the south shore of Lake Victoria. Arusha is in northern Tanzania, the jumping off point for most tourists going on game viewing safaris to the famous Serengeti and Ngorongoro parks.

The first major difference worth pointing out about this bus, besides its age, is the seating configuration. Imagine a greyhound bus in North America, standard 2 by 2 seating with maybe 10 to 12 rows of seats, giving a maximum capacity of around 45 passengers. This bus, the same size as a greyhound coach, had 65 seats. That does not however imply that the max capacity was 65. Oh no, that would have meant an empty aisle! We had about 20 to 30 people standing in the aisle, and some seats had two people on them, like the woman beside me with her 10 yr old daughter on her lap. Now, this wouldn't be so bad on a short journey, but the drive from Arusha to Mwanza 'normally' takes about 15hrs. That's assuming 'normal' road conditions and the 'normal' number of breakdowns and delays...

Our first stop of the journey was after about 5hrs of death defying driving! The driver who I am sure is completely insane, was racing other 40 year old buses down the narrow, poorly paved road. When the asphalt soon ended, the bumpy, dusty dirt road sent the bus' contents hurtling into the air with every bone jarring pot hole. Some of the seats had bits of old foam loosely attached to their small metal frames with torn dirty fabric, and when I landed back into my seat after each bump I would usually find myself banging into some part of the seat in front of me as well as somebody else's elbow or shoulder. The seats were so close together that my knees were actually inside the frame of the seat in front, with no room to move. At one point I was bounced so high that my head hit the luggage rack above me and sent a painful shock down my spine, leaving me with a very sore neck for quite a while.

When we finally did pull of the road, for what I thought was a rest and toilet break, the bus driver started taking the rear wheels off the bus! This was not a rest stop, this was our 'first' breakdown. Apparently the reason he'd been racing so fast was to get to this particular village where an employee of the bus company lived, one who had supposedly stolen a spare part from the bus which they needed to replace. They discovered that it was missing in Arusha when they went to replace the wheel hub, since it was in very bad shape, but instead of fixing it properly in Arusha, they raced to this guy's home town with all 95 passengers on board, knowing that the back wheel hub was not properly fastened. When they found the culprit a bit of a fight broke out which ended when a police officer arrived. Not knowing how to handle the situation, the officer decided to deliver his idea of justice by telling the man who had punched the thief that he had to carry his victim to the hospital. Meanwhile some other mean went about taking apart the wheel hub, which by now had only 2 of the original 8 bolts holding it onto the axle. The other 6 had sheared off somewhere between here and our early morning departure from Arusha. The repair job involved a couple hours of welding on the side of the road by a guy wearing a very cheap looking pair of sunglasses instead of a proper welding mask. Finally they had the assembly 'fixed' and put back together and we were on our way once more.

The next stop wasn't until many more hours of holding our bladders and bouncing along dusty roads, and once again we pulled off the road to have more welding done. This time a guy crawled under the bus to apparently fix the suspension. I took this opportunity to finally eat some food, a plate of chips and egg from a road side vendor, one of the most typical street food dishes in Tanzania. Just before boarding the bus again I heard someone say that a man on the bus who hadn't gotten off all day, had deficated in his seat! I think the poor guy was mentally handicapped, but the scary part is that the bus already smelled so bad by this point that I didn't even notice the stink when I went back to my seat.

About 7hrs later, already 5hrs passed our scheduled arrival in Mwanza, we were stopped at a remote military road block in the middle of the wilderness, at 1a.m. with no town or village nearby. The soldier carrying his AK-47 ordered that the driver stop and park the bus, in accordance with the Tanzanian law that no public bus is allowed to drive at night, for 'safety' reasons. The driver knew this but because of our delays thought that he'd take his chances and try driving through the night to Mwanza, hoping to not get caught. But we were caught. I had to pee so badly that I didn't even care why or where we were stopped, and I hurried off the crowded stinky bus to relieve myself. When I got back on I learned that this was where we would be spending the night, on the bus, all of us, until sun rise when we'd be allowed to carry on. So for 5 cold restless hours I tried to sleep, clutching my small bag of valuables, camera, passport and wallet. It was also raining, and since the window next to my seat was completely missing, I had donned my rain jacket to shield me from the rain spitting wind.

At about 6a.m. the bus loudly roared to life and we pulled back onto the road for the last few hours of driving into Mwanza. As we approached Lake Victoria my appreciation for the spectacular scenery was somewhat diminished by my complete exhaustion and frustration with the long and arduous journey. My face and hair thickly caked with dust and all of my clothes and backpack dirty and smelly, I limped off the old wreck of a bus in Mwanza, all of my bones aching from the poor sleep and punishing treatment by the pot holed road, and I walked straight to the harbour to buy a ticket for the M.V. Victoria ferry which would take me across the lake that evening. In dire need of a shower and desparate for rest I sought out a nearby hotel where I would have stayed for the night to recover, but if I missed the ferry that night I would have to wait several days for the next one. So after my ice cold shower on a chilly rainy day, I slept for about an hour, and then went to explore the beautiful lakeside city of Mwanza.

Dancing with Maasai Warriors

You've probably seen pictures of them in National Geographic, or on the Discovery Channel, African warriors decorated in elaborate beads with giant plugs in their ear lobes. They are quite tall and are very proud. They are a nomadic people, with a way of life completely different from the Tanzanians and Kenyans that surround them. On TV you may have seen them cooking goat meat over a fire, molding clay pots with their hands, herding cattle in their homeland, the great Rift Valley, and even perhaps performing strange rituals including drinking warm blood from the neck of a bull, and painful coming of age trials. But surely, your thinking, this is how life was in Africa 'back then', long before colonization, right? Wrong. The Maasai have kept their culture intact ever since the beginning. They are still a nomadic people, travelling in tribes throughout the Rift Valley, following the rains and leading their sacred cattle to always greener pasture. Life in a Maasai Boma (village) literally revolves around the cattle, they are the life blood of the village. Very recently, I was incredibly fortunate to visit a Maasai village in rural Tanzania and experience a glimpse of their way of life, first hand.

I arrived by train from Dar es Salaam into the small town of Kisaki, right on the edge of the Selous Game Reserve, the largest one in Africa! Even from the train I saw herds of impala, zebra, giraffe and wildebeast roaming through the tall brown grass, outside of the park, a park that is home to lions and elephants, a park that has no fence...

I found my friend Carl waiting for me at the station. I had met Carl in Malawi at a hostel and we travelled some together. He is originally from England, but has been travelling most of his life, 32 years in fact, and all added up he has spent about 10 years of his life exploring Africa! So, needless to say he has been an invaluable resource. Carl goes to Kisaki for its incredible scenery and location, right on the edge of the reserve with great river beds and paths to explore on foot, without paying the hefty fees of entering the park but still within the same ecosystem. He also comes to Kisaki for the full moon. On one of his early visits he became friends with a young Maasai warrior by the name of Saitoti. Unlike most Maasai children, Saitoti went to school, against the will of his traditional minded father, because Saitoti had been kicked by a bull as a boy and was not able to perform his regular duties of feeding the goats and cattle. Now 25 yrs old, he speaks fluent English, and has aspirations of writing a book about Maasai culture, but has returned to his Boma and the work of caring for his precious cattle, which one day he hopes will pay for a fine wife. He has also returned to the ritual of dancing at night under the full moon, which is what draws Carl to come to visit.

When we first saw Saitoti walking along the road he looked like he'd stepped right out of a National Geographic article, dressed in the traditional robe and sandals, carrying his staff and sword. Assuming that he didn't speak english and not knowing who he was I would have nodded respectfully and walked right on by, but upon seeing us Saitoti smiled broadly and with a laugh called out "Carl Burton, you are back! How was Namibia?". Carl reached and shook the tall warriors hand, "Namibia was great Saitoti, how are you?" and then said something in Swahili, something about Simba, the word for lions...

We made plans with Saitoti to meet the next day so he could show us - show me really, Carl had been before and seen the village - the different parts of daily Maasai life. The men bringing the cattle back into the Boma from their grazing, back to where they are safe from lions, protected by the knife and spear of the Maasai warriors. Although governments have been putting a stop to the practice, it was tradition that a warrior prove his manhood to his potential bride by killing a lion!

The next day Carl and I walked about 25km, toward the Selous game reserve, but just before entering the park we left the vacant dirt road and followed a dried up river bed. The soft wet sand showed clear evidence of recent visits by elephants, hoof prints probably left by antelope or impala, and very large, uncomfortably large prints that without a doubt belonged to a very large cat. More likely a leapord than a lion since the lush, densely forested and vine covered hills are more typically home to leapords than lions which prefer more open territory, with tall grass in which to hide and to hunt. Nevertheless, Carl and I kept our eyes out for any wildlife, hoping to see something exciting. We sat on the river banks in complete silence after our lunch of fresh oranges, waiting, waiting, eventually we herd and saw baboons, various types of monkeys swinging and jumping through the trees. (there are no tourists here, no 'overland' adventure package tour groups, not even any park rangers, this land is no man's land, we didn't belong there, and that's what made it so exciting!)

That evening it rained, there would be no dance, though the moon was almost full. The train back to Dar would be coming soon and I knew I should be on it, but to be so close and not get to see the dance would be tragic. The next day rained also, my hopes were sinking, but by early evening it looked to be clearing up. "Yes, it's quite possible" said Saitoti, "tonight I think we will dance". So our tall nomadic friend led us out of Kisaki along narrow foot paths, a short walk to a neighboring Maasai Boma, where we ducked through small doorways into huts built of mud, sticks and cow dung, temporary structures since the Maasai are always on the move. He showed us where they cooked their meals over wood fires inside the multi purpose living area, the small adjacent room where three young bachelor warriors shared one bed, consisting of sticks covered by cow hides. Next to the bed were three young cows, evidence of how incredibly important the cattle are to the Maasai. If a calf or young goat needed extra protection or help to recover from an injury or ailment, it would be brought right into the bedroom to be tended to and restored to full health. From the living area we were led to the sheep and goat pens and then as we contined further from the mud huts, the faint glow of their cooking fires faded as we neared the herd of cattle. In pitch darkness we walked among the cattle as Saitoti explained the importance of their markings, the way they would breed the cattle, and how many cows were typically paid to the parents of the bride when a warrior married. And how do the men choose their mates? Much like in the animal kingdom, it involves a show of male dominance, a sort of chase, in the form of a dance.

It began with a deep growling chant by one of the older warriors. The rest of the men forming a semi circle, all facing the women, all began to join in with chants, strange noises from the back of their throats that I, no matter how hard I tried, could not emulate with much success. It almost sounded like a rhythmic barking sound. And then the women, all dressed in colorful robes and decorated with large rings of beads around their necks, began to join in with high pitched yelps and melodic Maasai lyrics, songs about romance perhaps? More likely songs praising the cattle and praying for green grass, rain, and healthy calves.

I stood in absolute amazement watching the ceremony unfold, until I was startled by a warrior who approached me with ivory white teeth smiling from an otherwise invisibly black face. Without a word he placed a robe over my head and following his directions I joined the line of dancing warriors, dressed just like them. I was even handed a staff which we all held with the pointed end on the muddy ground, all of us hunched over, bobbing up and down to the hypnotic beat of the music. No drums, no fire, no instruments, so simple, yet so powerful.

One by one the warriors would enter the centre of the circle and with their staff raised into the air begin to jump up and down, showing off to the girls who watched and sang. Sometimes the entire group would jump in unison and I tried to keep up until my calves were burning.

Saitoti was both amused and I think a little bit impressed by the efforts Carl and I made to integrate ourselves into the dance, instead of just watching it happen like a couple of tourists. We were the first mzungus (white men) to ever join in the dance at this Boma. We both left the very next morning on the train back to Dar es Salaam, with memories that I will never forget. I wonder if those warriors will ever be joined by another mzungu under the light of a full moon, in the vast wilderness of the Selous ecosystem. Saitoti and I exchanged addresses and promises to keep in touch. "Let me know when you finish your book" I told him, and he asked me to mail him some photos that I'd taken at the Boma. "I will Saitoti, and thanks for everything, asanti sana!"

Now I am just about to leave Dar es Salaam for Moshi, where I will with any luck catch a glimpse of Africa's tallest mountain, Mt Kilimanjaro. And then it's off to Arusha and famous parks including the Serengetti plains and the Ngorogoro crater. And then after that it's off to Uganda for a couple weeks before heading back east into Kenya, more Maasai territory. Who knows, maybe by the next full moon I'll find myself in the middle of nowhere again, dancing with warriors!

On Safari

I know, it's been 2 months since my last post! But usually this site doesn't work for some reason, but today I'll give it a quick try. Here's a brief story from a recent safari trip into Botswana.

Last week I arrived in Zambia from Zimbabwe, to meet up with a friend at the famous Victoria Falls. Before even seeing the falls, Steve and I left Livingstone on a 2 day safari into the Chobe nation park in Botswana, only a 1.5hr drive from Victoria Falls. The safari was simply incredible, such stunning scenery, magnificant animals, great company and good food. On the first day we started with a river cruise down the Chobe River, sighting dozens of hippos bathing in the warm shallow waters, countless species of beautiful birds, and African elephants along the banks of the river bathing themselves and stomping in the mud to cool down in the afternoon heat. After a few hours on the river we were dropped off deep inside the 10,000 square km park where we were picked up by a land cruiser and taken to a camp site where we ate an awesome lunch and then took a short nap in our tents in the bush before going on an afternoon game drive. We saw wart hogs, giraffe, hundreds of elephants (Chobe has the highest concentration of elephants in the world), buffalo, impala, kudu, and dozens of other interesting animals. And just as we were driving down to the river to watch the sunset, somebody spotted a leapord drinking at a watering hole as we passed. We backed up and watched as this beautiful enormous cat sat in the fading light for a while before stolling off into the bush. I took hundreds of photos, so hopefully a few will be pretty spectacular.

That evening after an unbelievable meal of guinea fowl, veggies and rice, we sat around the camp fire drinking wine and talking about our lives back home. There was a guy travelling alone from California, a family from Victoria, that's right CANADA, and a couple from the UK as well as myself and my friend Steve from England. Our guide Jensen started telling us some pretty hair raising stories when we asked him if any animals had ever come right into the camp, which was not fenced off or protected in any way. Fortunately we were told that we'd be safe during the night as long as we stayed in our tents, and only one person had ever been dragged off and eaten by lions and that was becuase he decided to sleep outside his tent under the stars. After a while mother nature called and I started walking toward the latrine. Brian, the big joker from Californing started sarcastically reminding me to make noises to scare away the critters in the bushes, so I played along and started making silly noises, but as soon as I did, I heard something else, something rustling in the leaves right in front of me. I shone my flashlight into the bushes to try to see what it was and suddenly an enormous snake slithered out in front of my path. I yelled and Jensen came over to see it, reporting that it was a puff adder, very poisonous, and that if i'd been bitten I would have almost certainly died within a couple hours since the only chance of survival is an injection of antivenum, which is only available at a hospital several hours away. Needless to say i was very happy that the snake didn't feel threatened by me enough to take a chunk out of my leg. We heard a lot of other noises during the night, including a honey badger that strolled through the camp around midnight. A herd of elephants crashed through the bushes fairly near by and we could hear their grunts and calls echoing through the starry cool night sky.

The next day on our early morning game drive we found a pack of huyenas, saw some baboons and vervet monkeys, and then at last we suddenly spotted what everyone really wanted to see. A lioness! She was alone and very fat so had obviously just been eating. Our expert guide tracked the lion back to a marshy area where we found 8 lions feasting on two recently killed buffalo. Four of them were only small cubs, but no adult males were with the pride. It was an expensive activity, but one I'll never forget.

Now I am back in Zambia. After a visit to the spectacular Vic Falls I took a bus to Lusaka, the capital. I'm staying a couple nights with a very friendly Aussie girl named Mel and her boyfriend Jason from Newfoundland who are both working in Lusaka, and tomorrow will hopefully make it up to Kitwe to visit a couple community school projects before continuing on to Malawi.

I'll try to start updating this more frequently rather than sending out mass emails, so do check back from time to time. Thanks for reading!

Catching Up

I have a lot of stories to tell and pics to share, so I'm going to try to quickly recap the last week or so of events quickly. This was taken on the Baz Bus ride along the Garden Route on the south coast of South Africa, on my way to a town called Knysna.
I stayed there for 5 days, went mountain biking twice, met lots of travellers from all over, had a few kickin Braai nights (BBQ), toured the local micro-brewery, and also went Abseiling (repelling) down a 400ft cliff right on the Indian Ocean. The scenery at Knysna was breath taking.
After Knysna I continued on to Plettenburg Bay where I did some hiking, sun tanning on the nice beach and swimming in the ocean. From there I went to a place called Nature's Valley, once again a place for great hiking through jungle forests as well as trails down to the coast. The next stop was Storms River, very close to the world's highest bridge based commercial bungy jump site. Laura, Steve and I went to the bridge, paid to walk along a suspended walkway under the bridge, some 216m over the river below, and then Laura decided in a moment of insanity, to jump off. She had about 4 seconds of total free fall, and then another 4 seconds or so of the bungy cord slowing her down before she sprang back up again. She said was it was absolutely incredible, so I actually regretted not doing it myself, but I can easily rationalize the missed opportunity by thinking of the money I saved by not jumping.

These pictures aren't really lining up with what I'm saying anymore, oh well, so I'll just finish up by describing where I'm at now and what's happening. Today is my last day in Jeffrey's Bay. I've had a wicked time here, went surfing 4 times, partying at the hostel with dozens of other travellers from all over the world, did a little bit of shopping at the surf clothing factory outlets, and today we're going to head over to the famous Supertubes surf spot just a few km down the beach, where all the pro surfers go.

Then tonight I get on the Baz Bus again and head to Port Elizabeth, my last Baz Bus stop. From there on I'll have to figure out other transportation. I plan to head up to a place called Hogsback for a day or two, to Cinsta, and then on to a remote village called Bulungula. After that I'm hoping to go to the small country of Lesotho to meet up with a German guy I met in Storms River. That's all for now.

J-Bay

Hey folks, long time since I posted anything, I know. Internet access has been rather hard to find and quite expensive and slow in places.

I just arrived in Jeffrey's Bay, South Africa last night. It's a big surf town, lots of surf clothing factory outlets, shopping, long white sandy beaches and oh ya, lots and lots of surfers, everywhere. Tomorrow morning I'm planning to rent a board and catch some waves. I'll be here for about 4 days or so.

So much has happened in the last week or so it's insane. I met these two girls from Israel who are travelling with a Swiss guy and I keep running into the 3 of them, like 5 times in 6 days all in totally random places. So I figure there must be something I'm meant to learn from them or vise versa. They're arriving in J-Bay tomorrow so we'll see. I'll post some more pics tomorrow and start catching up with story telling as well.

Mossel Bay, South Africa

Ok, Two Englishmen, a German, and a Canadian get onto a parked train right on the beach in Mossel Bay. This train has been converted into a hostel, with only sleeper cars, and at the engine is the reception desk, restaurant, and bar. About 100ft away from the train is the crystal clear, warm, Indian Ocean. So, the Canadian turns and says to the German, "dude, did you take my food?". The German replies "no, my food is gone too." We all looked around our dorm beds and realized, WE'VE BEEN ROBBED!! Apparently the flimsy door with a 3ft gap between the door and the ceiling wasn't enough of a barrier to stop some locals from getting into our room while we were relaxing on the beach, and stealing all of our food. All our clothes, backpacks, and other belongings were untouched. Still, it made us feel pretty violated.


I left Cape Town yesterday morning on the Baz Bus, a backpacker's bus that carries 20 people and runs along a circuit of backpacker hostels along the Garden Route on the south coast of South Africa. The bus was full but comfortable, and I happened to know 2 of the guys on the bus! We drove through the rolling hills of the south coast, past endless hilly farmland, sheep farms, ostrich farms, and fruit orchards. Now we're in the town of Mossel Bay, despite the bus breaking down halfway here and all of us having to unhitch the trailer and push-start the bus. So since we arrived several humurous and interest events have transpired. In addition to our being robbed within the first couple hours of being here, we also went swimming in the nice warm Indian Ocean and then went for supper at a sea-side restaurant called King Fisher. We watched the beautiful sunset from our patio table, as locals surfed the break right in front of us. Now, believe it or not, this is what I feasted on for a total bill of $20CDN :

a tall glass of the local beer
entree of grilled Shark and salad
glass of local white wine (Two Oceans)
coffee
creme brulee for desert, mmmmmmm







When we woke up this morning we promptly checked out of the train hostel where we had been robbed, and took a taxi to the Mossel Bay Backpackers hostel, much cleaner, nicer and safer (we hope). Tomorrow we're all getting back on the Baz Bus and the two English fellers and the German are going to Plettenburg while I'm bound for a place called Wilderness, where there is a national park, some hiking trails, as well as various waterfalls and mountains to explore. There are also the usual thrill seeking activities offered, like bungy jumping, sky diving, shark diving, etc. But, my budget is already being stretched pretty thin by how "expensive" South Africa is. Typically I'm spending about $15 - $20 per night for a bed in a hostel 'dorm', and spending on average maybe $10-$20 per day on food. So, add in transportation and any sort of activity makes each day fairly costly. Today was a fairly cheap day, we bought a tennis ball at a flea market and played our own modified version of Ultimate Frizbee with it on the beach, great fun! So, as I strike off to Wilderness tomorrow who knows what adventures await me and who my next travel companions will be. I'll be sad to say goodbye to this lot, but there always seem to be interesting people to hang out with. By the way, one of the two English chaps here is an exact look alike of Ewan McGreggor, accent and all.

Table Mountain

So, this is where I'm staying right now, the Sunflower Stop Backpacker's in Cape Town. It's a pretty nice place, hot showers, communal kitchen, a pool and a bar. There's quite a few people here, some that stay a really long time and have become almost like a university dorm group of friends, and others that only stay a few days like myself. Notice the spikes on the fence and the barbed wire? Apparently it's a requirement for insurance reasons. Throughout the entire city all the stores, office buildings, condos and hotels are surrounded with razor wire, security gates and cameras.



I've been very tempted to do all the package tours and adventure tourism activites that Cape Town has to offer, but I've finally realized that I'm here for a different reason than most of the other backpacking adrenaline junkies. You can go sky diving, repel down the side of Table Mountain or down various water falls, go cliff jumping, sand boarding (wakeboarding on sand dunes), cage diving with great white sharks, and the list goes on and on. They offer all inclusive pub crawl drinking nights, BBQ parties (called Braai), and the atmosphere is almost like New Orleans at Marti Gras or a Florida beach on spring break. Sure I'd love to go rock climbing and sky diving, but I don't like the idea of doing it as an all inclusive tourist package. These things are also super expensive so that's another deterrant. Instead I've opted to do things on my own as much as possible.



So, a couple days ago I hiked up Table Mountain by myself. Well, not totally alone, about half way up I caught up to two girls who are flight attendants for British Airways. One from Ireland and one from Holland, so I joined them the rest of the way up. They were happy to have a male with them, and I was happy to have people to talk to and take my picture, plus they say it's not safe to hike alone, due to wildlife and the risk of falling.




Anyway, the scenery was mind blowing, and it was cool meeting new people. The girls ended up giving me a ride back to the hostel in their rental car after we took the cable car back down the mountain. We stayed at the top and watched the sunset over the ocean and then got to see all the city lights and the full moon shining over Cape Town on the ride down. What an amazing experience.