Tanzania

First off it's Tanzania not Tan-zane-ee-a. It's what the locals say. It doesn't rhyme with Anzania like people want to rename South Africa, muppets that they are. Get it right you mooks.

29th June

We crossed the border and lost an hour, not due to normal border crossing shenanigans but because we switched to East African Time. Which is perfectly sensible - at least it doesn't get dark at 5:30 each day now. Our aim was to get to some farm about 400km from the border. We set off and Rhubarb's squeaking and rattling got worse and worse. We'd been thinking it might be a wheel bearing or clutch or something. Hoping we'd make it the 950km to Dar for a service we set off from Mbeya. 70km out there was a massive bang, something smashed into my foot by the pedals and a cloud of what looked like smoke poured up from the footwell. We lost all power and pulled over in a village bus stop. The smoke turned out to be just accumulated dust and my feet were both still there. When I looked under the Rhubarb I could see the front prop shaft was missing and sure enough two locals ran up with it a moment or so later.

Being the resourceful type and remembering that it would drive on the front shaft alone I set about getting the ten or so village guys to disconnect the rear shaft so we could cobble together a replacement front shaft. I thought utilising the CV joints and brackets from the rear one we could get the front one connected and providing the front axel with power. Clever, no? The guys wouldn't let me do any work - they fairly saw me as a good source of on the spot mechanics income.

Well it turned out to be not very clever. Having got one end of the rear prop off some bright spark pointed out I should just engage the diff lock. Having reattached the rear prop I did just that and we drove off using the rear wheels only. Rear Wheel Rhubarb. We wasted two hours instead of two minutes. I'd like to blame Jo for it but I can't think of a reason yet. It can't have been my fault though nor was treading on my last remaining pair of sunglasses and smashing them to bits. I am now without and can barely see in daylight hours - makes driving in day like night.

We got to the farm just after dark and saw the wacky Tanzanian drivers driving like nutters for a bit.

30th June

So we drove off to Iringa, about 50km away, to get some cash to pay for the room and dinner the night before and ask a man about the sensibilities of driving so far on just two wheel drive. Turns out it's not such a good idea as you have a 60/40 torque split between front and rear... blah blah - I'll stop at this point as I'm making it up. Anyway this one legged dude sends us to a stationary shop owned by an Indian guy called Pritman. There's school exercise books and pencils all over and his sari clad wife and daughters are standing in the gloom of the shop...

– Uh, are you Pritman?

– Yes Sir, thank you most kindly, how can I help you? You are most welcome.

– Someone said you could help me - my Land Rover prop shaft broke.

– Tdi or TD5?

– 300Tdi

– Front or rear?

– Front

– One moment, Sir, thank you kindly.

Expecting a flurry of 'phone calls I got ready to wait. He walks off and comes back thirty seconds later with a brand new fully assembled prop shaft in it's plastic wrapping. It was fucking weird. He actually had two - each of different brands, one Indian and one Britpart model. Guess which I chose? Bizarre is not the word. Painful is - as he dropped the sliding shaft on my uncovered toes a moment later but apparently he stocks every LR part there is, so good for us.

Round the corner to the garage where they took two hours more than the village guys to fit it (only after my trusty Haynes manual showed they were trying to fit it the wrong way 'round) and we were off.

We made it very slowly 160km to Baobab lodge and stayed in a wacky room. It was only the next day we realised the danger we were in from snakes and baboons.

1st July

On Driving in Tanzania

Nutters all of them but not in the usual sense. Traffic cops everywhere in super smart white uniforms. Who said colonialism was a bad thing? Thankfully they only really pull over trucks on the TansZam highway. There are weigh bridges every 100k's or so so you can speed past all the slow trucks that average about 40km/h. It must take them at least four days to do Lusaka in Zambia to Dar. They all drive just in the middle of the road and then swerve into their own lane as they approach you and flick on their near side indicator to let you know where they are. They use their indicators when you're behind them to warn not to overtake and when it's ok. This is if you trust them - one guy tried three times to get me to overtake into the path of an oncoming double trailer truck. The coaches - proper new A/C ones are the craziest, they seem to believe they are immune to crashing and overtake on blind corners at 150km/h. Apart from descending a mountain pass and seeing a articulated lorry trying to overtake another on a double chicane we've not had any problems. Thankfully both had their indicators on thus preventing the chance of me plowing head on into either of them.

At night there are plenty of African motorbikes - cars with just one headlight and with all the blinking amber it's easy to believe you've hit the club early. When we did get stopped by traffic cops on the way into Dar they wanted to teach me Swahili and ask for food. In a very demanding way, which is unlike the rest of the locals - we gave them nasty boiled eggs the Baobab gave us for breakfast. Suck on them.

But having got stopped for speeding and been stopped four further times I am yet to once be asked for a driving license or papers, very odd for the trip so far - African traffic cops seem to love their paperwork even if sometimes you doubt they can read it.

The day...

We headed off for Dar and slogged 360km there, in about seven hours all told. Getting into town I was shattered but driving in a city with proper traffic - it's more like London than Cape Town - was fun, especially when you're in Rhubarb, even bus drivers shy away from you. We stopped at a couple of the big name hotels to have a look and see if we were going to treat ourselves but they were ugly so we went to were we'd originally booked for 2nd/3rd which was nasty but cheaper. Cheaper until Jo found Robertson's Constitution Hill on the wine list and I smashed, (well the stupid hotel for not having any plug sockets,) my iPhone screen.

We adjourned to the casino. When we were in Gaborone earlier in the year the casinos all let me play one hand against the house rather than the usual minimum two hands. This actually gives the player an advantage if they play good BS (Basic Strategy - a fairly simple table of possibilities) coupled with correct doubling and splitting, of up to 9-10%. I won about R20,000 over 5 days in Gaborone so I felt confident. Sadly even with a 10% advantage you can still lose. Lose I did - about $200 quite quickly, over less than 50 hands. The maths will always win but not in the short term - I was sulking at this point.

Undeterred I saw a poker game filled with Indians, Chinese, Swedes and Americans. Pretty much your average poker game in a casino. I sat and sat and acted dumb and played hands only against the drunks and Indians (mostly one and the same) and went to bed with 1.5 million shillings - enough they had to call the owner to bring more money to pay me out. Whilst only shillings it was still a clear $1000 win, having covered the blackjack and poker stakes. Not quite a stack of high society but enough to get me a new pair of spats. I mean sunglasses..

Happy Birthday to me.

2nd July

Woke up and Jo had a load of maintenance stuff to do so I went and collected a terrifying quote for Rhubarb work - more than my winnings last night. I bummed around Dar for a bit which was dull and then met up with her later. Bought some new sunglasses - they make me look like a Yiddish gangster. We had some dinner and I hit the casino again. I had to wait for an hour or two so I chatted to some dull English girls who are working for an NGO.

The Problem with English NGO Workers

i) All they do is talk about home apart from when they are...

ii) ...talking about people they went to uni with and where they are unless they are...

iii) ...talking differences between where they are now or

i) See i)

Dull dull. Anyway whilst waiting for a seat at the table I spotted red and come in 7 times in a row. It came in another 7 times too before black did but by that time I'd run out of cash. Long term the table will always hit 18 Blacks 18 Reds and one green every 37 spins but I got greedy/stupid. Anyway I re-cashed and tore up the poker table busting just about every player and winning over two million shilling things. Problem was the money I lost in a moment of madness - so I only cleared about $500 profit come the end of the night. Almost there for Rhubarb.

Slept.

3rd July

We got up argued with the hotel manager some bizarrely stupid German guy. He wanted to stick us with a 5% Credit Card surcharge. That's fine but only if you tell me beforehand or perhaps have a sign up on the wall indicating the charge.

– Wot do you expect me to do?? Must I tell every guest when they check in that there is thiz surcharge? Or maybe a sign?

– Well yes, actually that would make it much clearer for everyone.

– But this is very difficult for me.

That's 'cause your thick then mate. Anyway he walks off saying he's getting the police and comes back and tells the girl at reception to take 5% off. Problem for him was the 5% hadn't been added so we got an extra discount. Hurrah for us.

Went down to port to get the boat to Zanzibar and it was nutty. Super busy and got well ripped off. We called a hotel from the boat and booked a room and 'a very tall' man met us to take our bags. He was exceedingly tall as promised by the hotel. We stayed at the Zanzibar Palace Hotel a little 10 room place that was pretty cool. It had one of those massive walk in baths that are always accompanied in Africa and South America with totally underwhelming taps making them nice to look at but a bit pointless.

Went for a dull meal and a drink at Mercury Bar. As in Freddy. A bit naff unsurprisingly. And fucking expensive - $3 a shot. Turns out the whole island is like this.

4th July

We wandered around the town for a bit and then headed off in a taxi to a place 5km outside to watch the Lions game. It was great - particularly the scoreline. The Lion's were better in the series than the 2-1 series score suggested but they were out performed the first 60 minutes of the first test and the last 20 of the second and it cost them overall.

We went out to dinner in the original Stone Town roof top restaurant at 236 Hurumzi formerly known as Emerson & Green. It was the first of the newer hotels to be decked out as a sort of elegantly disheveled Sultan's palace type place. We were going to stay there but the manager was really poor in getting back to us - and since there's building working going on it was a good miss. The restaurant was cool though. Up about five winding wooden staircases on the roof we watched the sun go down amidst the evening calls to prayer. We had some proper French bubbles for the first time in a long long time for either of us too, courtesy of the poker the days before. Food was alright - the local band and dancers basically just ululated and gyrated hips for an hour or so - awesome if you like that, not so awesome of you don't.

Went to bed.

5th July

Woke up admonishing ourselves for not saying a little prayer for our American brothers and sisters and their independence celebrations. Sure we did.

Can't really remember much of this day - I should write more frequently really. Basically we watched the tennis and saw Federer win which is what we wanted to see. Roddick probably lost 'cause we didn't pray for God to Bless America. Shame. Incidentally, how does a state which has it's secular nature enshrined in it's constitution have 'In God We Trust' on all it's banknotes? Oh, that's cause the constitution probably isn't worth the bus fare from Southfields to Wimbledon on Finals Day with all it's amendments. I digress I guess.

Watched a movie when we got back and I bored Jo to tears with a critique of the plot. She snored all night.

6th July

We headed off to Kendwa Beach in the north of the island as some people we met in Nkhata Bay were there and recommended it. Took an hour to get there and booked into a little place on the beach that was pretty plain but had a nice little beach bar. We bumped into James, Jan, Luke, Amanda and Dull Girl who we met in Mayoka Village in Nkhata Bay. Actually, Amanda could fairly be described as a dull girl but then it would get a bit confusing. They were all smashed on local rum and since we'd last seen them where Amanda and Dull Girl and been hooked up with other guys they had now entered into the Benidorm spirit of things and paired off with Jan and James. Well Dull Girl was with James and Amanda stormed off teary eyed shortly afterward because Jan wasn't really interested. It was all so interesting - we were on tenterhooks as to what the next development in the saga would be. It was like Neighbours or Days of our Lives, honestly so interesting.

We went for dinner and discovered what Kendwa beach is famous for. Not returning customers change. You have to ask for your change on average three times before you get it - and then only reluctantly. It is bizarre. Your change can be up to 9000 Shillings or $8 and you have to persistently ask for it. Buy a bottle of water for 1000TSH with a 10k note and wait and wait and wait. It's almost like the locals believe that you'll leave it all as a tip. So we decided every time the change was returned without us asking we'd tip 25%. Anytime we had to ask more than once we'd tip nothing. We tipped virtually zero our whole stay there as a result and the 25% rule was never invoked. It's silly really as we'd tip anyway and the prices are huge for africa $3 a beer pretty much.

On the way back to our place we stopped at another beach bar which had a pool table. We decided to have a game but I had to play a local guy to 'win' the table and after I put the money for the game down he said something like this;

– I think perhaps you want to play for some money, like 10,000TSH?

– Money, what on the game? I'm not sure you might be really good, I'm not really sure how to play?

– Yes, we can play for money

– Ok what are the rules?

– (He now comes up with the harshest rules ever - 2 two shots don't carry, ball must cross the line before it makes contact with a ball from a foul, etc)

– O.K. but let's make it 20,000TSH

Silly guy. He lost the first three games but credit to him he came back to level it - repeatedly fouling and leaving me with the black behind the line and having to double the length of the dodgy table whilst he was three or four balls behind counts as finesse around here. The improbably named Mr. Me - which apparently means Dan locally - and I left equal.

7th July

We bummed around the beach all day and had some dinner at the place we were staying in which was good. Met up with the Soap Opera peoples and found some or all of them were no longer talking. There was a Nottingham Party that night. Not all green felt and Friar Tuck costumes but a bunch of kids from Nottingham University who'd just climbed Kilimanjaro and were holidaying on the beach before going home. What a bunch of wankers. Two of them went up to James and said;

– Do you know who Chris Waddle is?

Followed by literally running away whilst sniggering. James might have a bit of a mullet but his sartorial elegance certainly put him ahead of the big haired students. Anyway the man in the Millets shirt then decided to ask me about my shirt with a floral motif and whether Jo was my mother. I didn't react particularly well to this line of questioning and they left shortly afterward. A bunch of twenty year old hoorah's trying to spoil the evening was very dull.

A pair of lamps for no particular reason.

8th July

We were up super early to go diving. It was a nearly two hour boat ride to get to the site just off the super expensive Mnemba Island. very cold and wet. The dive people weren't great either. We were never asked to show our certification and when I saw their paperwork later they'd invented two certification numbers for us - consecutive numbers. It's poor really as someone could do someone else harm by not being qualified as easily as they could themselves. It was pretty rough on the way there but I pulled up some wetsuits and went to sleep to avoid looking at Seasick Girl. Why do these people not take tablets?

Anyway we get to the dive site - Seasick Girl doesn't know what button inflates her BCD and we drop into a really nasty current which we had to swim against for twenty minutes - even at 15m it was mental. But the dive was cool saw some nutty fish and a big turtle swimming about. We turned back with the current and it was much better just drifting along. I was knackered though and didn't start with much air so Jo and I had to go up before the others. A minute or two the others came up as someone had lost a weight belt and someone else was struggling. If we'd have started with the current from the end of the reef we couldn't even reach it would have been an amazing dive and much less taxing but it was still pretty cool.

Second dive was much shallower but less effort. Some nice coral and a few fish but a bit dull. Seasick Girl kept pissing off on her own which was a bit annoying. We got the boat back for early evening where Seasick Girl (who remember, didn't know how to use a basic bit of her kit and more stupidly didn't just experiment with the two buttons before asking) perked up and started demanding a refund as she thought the first dive was only 15 minutes and the second to only 3m she could more than double both figures. Bit of an idiot really although the dive really wasn't very well run by the woman in charge.

Quiet night on the beach with James, Jan and Luke afterwards as the two dull girls had gone off crying about something again.

9th July

Dull day with overcast weather so we headed back to Stone Town in a taxi with Jan, James and Luke and two other really rude girls. We offered to let them squeeze in to our cab as they'd been waiting for 'hours' to find their own. They can't have tried very hard as it took me about a minute. Anyway they get a really cheap ride and didn't bother saying thank you. Instead they talked really loudly about how they couldn't look forward to anything more than some days drinking they have planned in Laos or Cambodia or somewhere in 5 months time. Then the driver is a bit put out that he's not getting a tip - the five of us had put in 5000TSH each for a 30k fare and they only wanted to put in 5000TSH between them. Losers. Cheapskate Losers. The others all piled into the ferry port to get the boat to Dar at the last minute and we checked in to a place to watch England getting messed up in the Ashes. Had some dinner and took a load of photos of the notorious slave trader Tippu Tip's old house next door. Someone will probably turn it into a hotel soon.

Looking like a Hollywood back lot.

Above image forcibly inserted by, Tanzanian Tourist Board, (Zanzibar Office.) Requisite Dhow Photo at Sunset.

10th July

Rhubarb day we hoped. Only we overslept and missed the early boat and the later boat was late and full of seasick people. It was nice how caring the boat staff were though as they went through the boat collecting the weirdly entirely female seasick contingent and planting them outside on the bows of the catamaran. Now that was where it was bumpiest so it probably didn't help with their stomach movements but at least they were out of smelling range.

When we got to Land Rover it turned out that my debit card wasn't in it and nor was my fairly pricey jacket. Obviously it wasn't taken by anyone working there because no one went in the car - which seems odd as it had been moved from where I'd last seen it and there was an oil covered seat cover in it. The jacket was last seen where? Behind the seat. Couldn't possibly have been the staff though according to Trudi van der Merwe or whoever. Also they don't accept card payments or any other form of payment apart from cash. As the bill was more than $1000 we had to spend a couple of days drawing this amount - and they are closed Saturdays and Sundays. This is an official Land Rover dealership - it's pathetic. You can pay by card at a camp site but not at Land Rover.

We checked into a nasty big name hotel and had dinner. I found a poker game with a couple of the guys from last weeks game in another hotel and lost two buy-ins. I was unlucky on my bust hands, once trying to get a bit greedy and letting the other guy hit his only out card and the second time getting beaten by runner, runner straight flush when I was ahead - but the table was too good. Why play against people who are good when you can wait and find an easier game? - so I stopped and went to went to bed.

July 11th

Left the nasty hotel with $16 a day internet and moved up the Dar coast to another place. Bit boring and and married with children. I wanted to watch the F1 qualifying so the man called the man in charge of changing the satellite channel. He said he couldn't change the channel without the Manager in Charge of the Man in Charge of Changing the Channel's permission. He was off so the channel had to remain on MTV which curiously all the staff were watching. We tried to eat but took our anti-malarial pills just before we ate and were both promptly sick. I went down the road to a casino in a fancy hotel. What a pleasant game with very pleasant Indian guys! A very pleasant $550 later I went home. It was only really $150 win as I had to cover the $400 from the night before but a win is a win.

July 12th

Woke up late after a late night with strict instructions to play more poker from Joanne. We walked around the bit of town we were in and were lucky enough to find an authentic Oirish bar to watch the F1. A very dull race but the cricket got interesting. It's only the England cricket team that can make a draw feel like the greatest victory ever. Went back to the casino and won $450 off the exceedingly and very, very, pleasant, thank you Sir, Indian gentlemen. If it wasn't so boring I'd move to that hotel and play poker every night. Also started reading some Flashman novels. They're awesome - how they slipped me by before I don't know as I was a big fan of Tom Brown's School days where Flashman makes his debut. They are perfectly and wonderfully un-PC, I'm not sure that a book containing the following would get published these days;

"I was expelled from Rugby, too Sir"

"Good God! You don't say! What for, sir?"

"Drunkenness, sir"

"No! Well damme! Who'd have believed they'd kick you out for that? They'll be expellin' for rape next. Wouldn't have done in my time I was expelled for mutiny sir - yes mutiny! Led the whole school in revolt! Splendid!"

Ah, Flashman! A drunken cad and blackguard to boot. A man after my own heart.

July 13th

Rhubarb day finally. My jacket was still gone but in a karmic twist the bastards at Land Rover messed up on the billing and appear not to have charged us for the standard service so we saved 25%. But then the gypo bastards don't even use Land Rover parts - they use generic Brit Part stuff. Rhubarb felt like new on the way out of town. No shakes or squeaks it was all a bit alien. We drove out to Bagomayo just up the coast for lunch which was a waste of time. Half the hotels are being demolished which from the ones still standing can only be an improvement. To get back on the main road we had to do 60km of dirt track which took precisely two hours. Lots of fun. When we got back on the road we realised we were going to fall well short of our target Arusha - 'the safari capital of the world' so we stopped at the Karonga Transit Hotel. It was beautiful. Well no, actually it was a toilet. Well a toilet that didn't have a working toilet but it was cheap as chips.

On the Nobility of Drinking From Plastic Sachets

Since Malawi lots of local places only sell spirits in plastic sachets. In Malawi it was Malawian Vodka that tastes just like Malawian Brandy which tastes just like Malawian Gin that tastes an awful lot like Malawian Vodka that tastes awful. In Tanzania it's mostly just Konyagi which is meant to be like a local gin but tastes fucking awful. Anyway when in Rome...

I'm not sure why it's noble to be pouring cheap spirits out of plastic sachets into warm tonic with no ice in a dirty roadside hotel with plastic flowers on the table that hasn't had a paying customer in three weeks - but you have to look on the brighter side of life. Delusion I think it's called.

July 14th

Drove on to Kilimanjaro and Moshi the town adjacent to it. Couldn't see the mountain due to cloud cover - doesn't matter we know just what it looks like from the eponymous beer with picture on the label. Not having a jacket anymore I felt sure I could get a new one at the base camp for climbing Africa's tallest mountain. Not a chance. Went on to Arusha. Tried to buy a jacket. Not a chance. Stayed in a backpackers.

Continuing Problems With Backpackers

Gap year students who learn one phrase in the local language and repeat it ad infinitum convinced they are now fluent, for example -

– Asante san - Can I book a taxi for the morning - asante san

– Yes for what time madam?

– Asante san - 7am - asante san

– I will call now, for how many people please?

– Asante san, asante san

– For ten people madam?

July 15th

We looked around a bit in the morning went to the Ngorongoro Tourism office and found that it was going to be much more expensive than we thought to go to Ngorongoro and Serengeti. We also discovered that Arusha is home to more annoying, thieving, pestering bastards than anywhere we've been since Livingstone, Zambia.

We eventually got out of town and headed to some little town just outside of Ngorongoro where we camped for the night in a place full of overland trucks and lots and lots of tents. Oh and Yanks by the bucket load all paying $25 for a buffet dinner. We nearly fell into this trap until we found the menu and realised you could order a la carte for about $10. God it was cold - it's at nearly 2000m.

July 16th

We headed off for Ngorongoro which was very cool - but then lots of things at $400 a day are very cool. It was probably worth it though but only just. We drove in down a long nasty road - an hour to do 20km - and drove straight up to a lone lioness which we followed around for a bit. Saw lots of elephants and hippos and buffalo 'n shit. Yawn. ;)

We drove back out of the crater - O.K. it was well worth it, the drive out in the sunshine reminded us of how spectacular it is and assuaged the pain of the $400 and we went to our campsite. Our campsite and two hundred other people's too. All on big buses. It is $30 per person to camp in a fucking toilet. Only predictably the toilets don't work. We camped right and the side of the site and as it got dark we heard a munching and snorting sound which turned out to be a buffalo. They apparently kill more people than any other game in Africa but fortunately the drunk security guard turned up to throw rocks at it to make it leave. I didn't need to ask what he'd do if the rock throwing didn't work - his AK47 slung over his shoulder made it plain that there would be no tag and release. Mind you, he'd have to hit it first and by the can of beer in his hand that wouldn't be a foregone conclusion. Apparently the big problems are lion and leopard. It was really cold so Jo went to bed and I sat reading my book next to the fire next to Rhubarb. There was a bit of heavy breathing and snorting which I first took to be a returning buffalo and then since it was coming from Rhubarb decided it must just be Jo snoring. Next thing a Perfectly Big Dog walked round the side of Rhubarb. A Perfectly, Very, Very Big Dog. That was actually a cat. That was only the width of a Land Rover from me and was actually a fucking huge leopard. I yelled at Jo to open the tent as it ran off and I went up to bed. Obviously, I recovered my composure enough to grab a medicinal whiskey and another book. It's a pity it didn't have a taste for some of the nasty students that had hung the U.S. flag on their tents but then I don't blame it they probably taste dull as ditch water.

That crater thing...

July 17th

We got up early to drive to the Serengeti. Our local map said it was a one hour drive but ominously didn't give a distance. A bus driver who we'd cadged charcoal off the night before told us it was an hour and a half maximum. We'd had to cadge because they don't sell any wood or charcoal in the park. It seems silly really as it encourages people to chop their own or village people to chop anything going to make a quick buck. A Kiwi guy told us it was the worst road ever but we discounted him 'cause he was a bit slow sounding. Turns out it was amongst the worst roads we've ever driven and the half wit was right. It took just short of three hours and shook Rhubarb to bits. What was most frustrating was the fifty or so local tour operators cars that shot past us were all doing 70km/h to our 20 - 30km/h. This is the main reason the road is so corrugated. Actually the fact we'd paid $200 car service fee the day before for the crater and then to have to use a shit road was even more frustrating. All the safari operators use long wheelbase Land Rovers and Land Cruisers and when we eventually got to the Serengeti gate I was checking on the half crippled Rhubarb and asked to check some tire pressures with our gauge. They run the tires at 5 Bar which is incredibly hard. Rhubarb is normally 2.2 Bar on tar - and I can only imagine that it contributes to the corrugations. So we ask for a 'Special Campsite' for three nights and get told to pay for one night in a public campsite and go to the central office to extend the stay to three nights and upgrade. No problem Sir, there's your $200. After local tour guides told us to shut up and hurry up. Rude C–'s. Went to the grocery shop to buy some bread, eggs and wood only they don't sell any of them. If you've ever been on a cross channel ferry then you can imagine what the shop sold. Beer, spirits, cigarettes and tat. And nothing else. The reason? Bus loads of tourists mostly under the age of 23 and over the age of 60 with nothing on their mind but getting smashed. Maybe that's understandable after the journey they've had at 70km/h on that road, though.

We drive on to the central office - another 70km over dreadful road and Rhubarb starts bouncing like a speed boat in a swell. When we got there,

– It is big problem to upgrade to special campsite, I will work on it with my colleagues and you come back tomorrow maybe I can fix.

You can only book these sites it turns out from the office in Arusha. However, the office in Arusha doesn't accept payments and doesn't mention that the special sites exist.

– O.K. - where can we get some wood or charcoal from?

– The shop only sells chocolate, sodas, beer, spirits, cigarettes and tat made in a big factory in China, sir, for environmental reasons you understand.

No, I don't understand. A renewable and sustainable source of firewood or charcoal can only be a good thing. We always buy locally from a proper source so as not to encourage locals hacking down environmentally sensitive sources of wood or cutting down our own stuff. Or send people out to pick up dead stuff - it's better than expecting people to carry several bags of wood 250km for a fire.

And on the subject of tat...

When we were in Etosha park, Namibia I bought a rather nice little ashtray with an elephant 'hand' painted on it that we use when we camp. 'Locally' made they said. Sadly it broke in Mozambique. I picked up an absolutely identical one just outside Ngorongora, Tanzania, maybe 4000km away. I swear all the crap you see is all made in a big factory in China...

We went to a couple of the public campsites to find them with 50+ people in already at 3pm when most people are still on game drives. They were ghastly and cars aren't allowed in the camp area so we had to camp in the car park. It horrible and sad. When you think the camp sites are bringing in as much as $6000 per night - there are 15 or so of them plus $50 per person park access it's a disgrace. We were very sad and disappointed so we decided to leave the park and drive 130km out of the park. It took us four hours as the road was so bad and smashed Rhubarb's front shock absorbers to pieces. There is hydraulic fluid all over the engine bay and wheel arches. On the way out we saw some lion and elephant and thousands of zebra and wildebeest. The lions have neck collars and are all tagged which kind of sums the place up. In total we saw more people and cars than any game you wouldn't see twenty minutes outside of Cape Town. It is the Disneyworld of game parks and I can't think of anything to recommend it. Ngorogora at least has the nutty volcanic crater aspect - Serengeti has a name and the two a penny looks of any African park. It lives off reputation alone. If you want a few days on safari there are much better and cheaper options.

Moral of it all? Don't meet your heroes.

Animals 'n stuff...

Got to some place outside the park on Lake Victoria and stayed the night. Owned by a Dutch couple of which the husband is one of the big idiots I've ever met. Whilst putting air in our tires he comes to tell me how to do it, ignoring him I said;

– So, I couldn't believe the safari vehicles are running at 5 bar tire pressure, do you think that contributes to state of the roads?

– You don't know what you're talking about. They weren't talking bar they were talking 50 psi or 50 blah, blah.

– No I used this, my own gauge.

– In Africa everything is different, you will learn this one day when you have lived here. You must learn about Africa by living here.

– No, I used this my own gauge - it was here on the five bar level. (Pointing at my tire pressure gauge marked in 'bars' only)

– Oh.

At this point he rode off on his bicycle but this conversation and variations on it were repeated several times during the evening and the following morning, always started and finished with a phrase along the lines of; 'You must live in Africa to understand.'

Another lake,

...and another sunset.

18th July

Left dickhead and his wife and drove (very slowly) to Mzwana on Lake Victoria to try and get Rhubarb fixed and to get ourselves ready for Rwanda. Found England are ahead in the cricket for now which was most unexpected.

Rhubarb's roof has bent from the weight and corrugations. The side windows are popping inwards and the back door only opens with my full weight on it. Hating the roads here.