Somewhere over the rainbow...

Wifey here (if the cheezy title didn't give me away): in case anyone is wondering I did NOT jump into the pool on the edge of the 1000ft water fall. The guide asked, "Are you afraid of heights?"   Me: "No, just falling off steep edges!"
I fear Schnookums may be trying to hasten the "till death do us part" provision.
Anyway....it was beautiful and amazing, and no, the picture is not photo-shopped. He is that crazy. Feel free to google 'devil's hole' for more perspectives of just how crazy!

Colleen

Safe in my arms....a safe distance from the edge

Victoria Falls: Devil's Pool

The Devil's Pool (or Devil's Hole depending who you ask) is a small pool at the edge of the Livingstone Island section of Victoria Falls. You get there by a boat to the island, clambering over some rocks, swimming across a portion of the Zambezi (20 feet from the edge of the falls, then, well then, you jump in...

Dar es Salaam to Livingstone

We've made it to Livingstone. We've travelled approximately 2500 kilometers in 3 days. 1800 km (44 hours) by train from Dar es Salaam to Kapiri Mposhi, 250 km (3 hours) by mini bus from Kapiri Mposhi to Lusaka, overnight in Lusaka, then 450 km (8 hours) from Lusaka to Livingstone. Quite a journey. Aldous Huxley has a great quote about travel:

"Your true traveler finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty-his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure."

I suppose that makes us true travelers because the last few days have been mostly boring and mostly agreeable. Train rides, bus rides, crossing borders, waiting for trains and busses to leave etc. is trully boring stuff. It mostly involves waiting. Sure there is some reading, some talking, some sightseeing, but really it means having nothing to do for long hours on end. Sounds awful, but there really is a privelege to having time to do nothing but just think (or better yet not think) about anything you want. Also, I believe that we are finally letting go and getting into this. Colleen's shoulders have descended from their usual spot up near her ears to an almost natural position and I have been sleeping through most nights, I've even had a couple of afternoon naps.

The Tazara line

Anyway on to the specifices. The trip wasn't all boredom. We started with the train ride. The Tazara (Tanzania Zambia Railway) line, in their wisdom,will not allow women and men to travel in the same cabin together unless the couple buy the entire cabin, so while it cost us a bit extra, we had a cabin to ourselves for two days which was really nice. The railway itself was built in tthe 70s buy a Chinese company (There would be chinese script in the strangest places and the buildings at the station stops looked oddly and incongruously oriental). The line and cars were way past their prime. It felt like they hadn't been serviced in decades and everything was in varying states of disrepair. We had 4 bunks, a small table, some provisions we bought before we left, a bar one car up from ours, a dining car 7 cars up from ours,. and an open window (literally) on to the heart of southhern Tanzania and northern Zambia. That open widow really gave us a show. From blood red sunsets over the dry dusty savannah to incredibly brilliant night skies unfettered by the pollution of city lights   From little children chasing the train to wave at the weekly interlopers, to women walking home with an impossible load balanced on their head and a small child slung in their back From the pandemoniom at the station stops, to the baboons and gazelles we saw while having a drink in the bar car at dusk. It was everything you woud have expected of an African train ride. There were some surprises too. Farming techniques here involve clearing the bush with "controlled" fires, some of which would come right up to the tracks, their heat forcing you back from the window. They were especially eery at night. Also, at each of the station stops, people from the local town would rush up to the train with food to sell. Bananas, oranges, nuts, roast chicken, chapati (a type of flatbread), samosas, hard boiled eggs, meat pies and a type of fried dough, all for pennies. Really good stuff. I think that my favourite though had to be the cow on the back of the bike. The train had slowed down as we were coming into a small town and I happened to look out the window t see the better part of a butchered cow's carcass lashed to the back of a bicycle whose owner was stopped and talking to a friend. What was really surprising though was that the entire head and two of the legs, hoofs and all, were included in the package. A cows head on the back of a bike is definiterly something you don't see everyday.

Station Stop at Tanzania / Zambia Border

I don't want to make it sound idyllic though, it wasn't. When I asked two of my friends that had lived and travelled in Africa about Zambia and Tanzania, there response was "there is nothing there", and "those are very poor countries". They were right on both accounts. The children chasing the train were as likely to be begging as they were to be waving, and the vilages we passed were a collection of mud brick / thatch roof houses with no electricity whose inhabitants were eeking out a living on subsistance farming. In the North, African poverty is an esoteric discussion, here it is an undeniable fact, and the injustice of it has a profound impact. I don't think that this is the right forum to describe or discuss it, but I will say that it is something that each of us should look at a little closer.

View from bus to Livingstone

Anyway, next was the minibus ride and Lusaka. The drive from Kapiri Mposhi to Lusaka was notable only for the mode of transport. Mini busses in this part of the world are the main means of transportation for most people. Most are on the verge of falling apart and there is no schedule, they leave when they are full. I mean full. Our minibus had 26 adult passengers, a driver, a ticket collector, at least 8 children and all their attendant luggage stuffed into a space meant to fit maybe 20 people comfortably. It was a long, hot and cramped 3 hour drive. As for Lusaka, I'm sure we could find something nice to say about it if we stayed there longer, but our first impression was definitely negative. It is a dusty, sprawling town, frankly a little ugly, with not much to offer the casual visitor. We also had our first bout with unpleasantness outside the train station there when someone tried to pick my pockets. It was an amateurish attempt quickly foiled by a loud "hey!" and a firm shove, but unpleasant nonetheless. I don't carry anything in my pockets for that very reason, but I suppose if they had got anything, I could use Colleen's eagle technique - "hey, give me back my wallet", although I would probably have as much success with thte pickpockets as she did with the eagle.

The bus ride to Livingstone from Lusaka was also mostly uneventful. We were in a bigger coach bus (similar to greyhound but a little run down), so the 8 hour ride was a little more comfortable. We did have a close call with a cow crossing the highway. I thought we were done for, well I thought we might be done for, but that the cow was definitely a goner. However, the bus driver's skill turned the incident into a mere close call (really close, the bus skidded and felt ike it was going to tip over).

Oh and we saw Victoria falls and spent the afternoon in Zimbabwe.


Michael
Fawlty Towers Hotel
(no joke, the hotel we're staying at in Livingstone is called Fawlty Towers)
Livingstone, Zambia

Dar es Salaam: Haven of Peace

I'm not sure exactly why, but I have always found African city names to be evocative. Maybe it's because they sound so different from anything I'm used to. Or maybe it's that I know little to nothing about any of them so I can let my imagination run wild. Mombassa, Harare, Kigali, Entebbe, Nairobi. Exotic places somewhere far away where strange, adventurous and fascinating things are hapening. So when our plans for this adventure started taking shape and Colleen took a fancy to Tanzania, my thoughts went immediately to Dar es Salaam, the king of evocative African place names. It means Haven of Peace in Arabic, but my thoughts were of a sultry city teeming with street markets by day and lively music and dancing by night. A busy port city with seedy characters on every corner up to no good. A quaint colonial town centre surrounded by ramshackle buildings with peeling paint, and the odd grand hotel way past it's prime with expats sipping gin and tonic reminiscing about the good old days. The reality of Dar es Salaam is far more pedestrian

Dar es Salaam Skyline

We arrived in Dar es Salaam on Thursday via a 2 hour ferry from Zanzibar. It was raining when we arrived and we were greeted by the usual big city port hustle. Since it was raining, we decided to take a taxi to the area where there were a few hotels we could look into. I was excited. Here we were, in Dar es Salaam! My first big African city. Bring on the adventure. It was raining, so I couldn't get a great look from the taxi, but from what I could see, everything looked kind of normal, like any big city. Must just be the street we were on I thought, the exotic part must be right around the corner. The taxi let us off near the hotels, still not that exotic, but ok let's find a place to sleep. We decided on the Econolodge, sure, not exotic, but it's just a place to sleep. We dropped off our bags and started off on our errands. We needed to buy train tickets, get Indian and Zambian visas, get Zambian currency, and get my single entry Tanzanian visa changed to a multiple entry visa. Our errands would take us all over the city and would over the span of the next day and a half thoroughly dispel any ideas of an exotic city. Traffic is traffic, and a high rise building is the same in Philadelphia as it is in Dar es Salaam. Aside from the fact that Colleen and I were usually the only white people on the streets, we might as well have been in Winnepeg. I was crestfallen. Our train didn't leave until Tuesday. What were we going to do for 4 days?

Streetside BBQ

Then a funny thing happened. We relaxed. The room at the hotel was big and had a nice balcony with a pretty good view of the city. Colleen could sleep in while I read. We had time for long walks through the city, and it was much more interesting when you looked at it closer. Interspersed with the modern high rise buildings were some more interesting older buildings (the architecture was a wierd mix of art deco, colonial and communist style appartment blocks) and loads of churches, mosques and hindu temples. The food was pretty good too. A significant portion of Dar es Salaam's population is Indian, so it was easy to find a nice curry, and nondescript streetcorners by day would turn into open air restaurants by night serving an assortment of delicious grilled meats barbequed on the spot in massive kettle barell grills. We even found a great Ethiopian restaurant in the suburbs (you haven't had coffee until you've had Ethiopian coffee), so we took advantage and had a date night. We found a cool bar on the roof of one of the fancy hotels with a stunning sunset view of the city and the harbour. Also, surprise surprise, we managed to find a local watering hole (it was called Florida's - the owner's wife had a sister in Clearwater) where we became regulars for a few days.

A lot has happened in the last few weeks (the past few months for that matter), and it was nice to have nothing to do for a few days, to just let things sink in and realize just how lucky we are. So it turns out Dar es Salaam kind of grew on us. It is neither sultry or exotic, just pleasant, a haven of peace.

We leave today for Livingstone (Zambia) and victoria falls. 2 days on a train to Kapiri Mposhi, then 3 hour by bus to Lusaka then 8 hours to Livingstone. It should be an adventure.


Michael
Holiday Inn (I'm not even kidding, I'm really at a Holiday Inn)
Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

Zamzibar: A Little Gift

Zanzibar is a pretty special place. Actually I should say Unjuga is a pretty special place. Zanzibar is the name given to the archipelago that consists of Unjuga and Pemba islands, and several smaller islands and coral reefs. However,the other islands are sparsely populated so as far as a visitor is concerned, Unjuga is Zanzibar. The biggeast town (by far) and where we've spent most of our time is Stone Town. Stone Town is an old medieval town whose glory days have long gone.The buildings are in various states of disrepair, european tourists cram the alleyways and sidestreets lined with shops selling the ususal tourist crap, touts congregate in front of hotels trying to sell you anything from cashew nuts to a Zanzibar soccer jersey (not even sure if Zanzibar has a soccer team), and the expensive resort hotels lining the coastline take up all the best real estate while the buildings behind them are left to rot. A long fall for the hub of a trading empire where Africa, Arabia, India and Europe met, for the former seat of colonial power, and for the birthplace of Swahili language and culture.However, as with any place, you don't have to look far the find thigs to like.

Stone Town Alley

Walk a little bit past the tourist shops and you find youself in a warren of alleyways where it looks like the way of life hasn't changed much in generations. Carts laden with coal or jugs of water vie for space with school children chasing each other and workmen doing their best to repair a wall and hold back the effects of time for one more year. You find yourself looking at the yachts, ferries and cargo ships that fill the harbour, when out of nowhere, a beutuiful dhow (traditional sailing ship) silently glides by on it's way to the fishing grounds off the coast. Sure the tourists are everywhere, but the local culture is strong. The call to prayer from the mosques competes with the rooster for who will be the first to wake you, in observance to Ramadan, restaurants are closed to non tourists, the beautiful traditional kangas are worn by most women (in stark contrast to the rediculous beachwear worn by sunburned tourists) and every once in a while you can hear the traditional tarab music coming from a store or home.Then there is the food. The first night here I bought a handfull of grilled squid in chili sauce for about 75 cents (it was served in newspaper) off of a guy on a bench in an alleyway, and last night I had Zanzibari Pizza (more of a fried pastry) with fresh squezed sugar cane juice. Delicious. So I guess we ended up with a prety positive impression of Stone Town, despite all of it's flaws. but Stown Town was nothing compared to Jambiani.


However, Zanzibar is known for Stone Town, and for it's beaches, so Colleen, Aileen and I decided to rent a car so that we could spend a day at one of the island's beaches. We chose Jambiani beach because it sounded like the quietest, most laid back of the ones we asked about. It was however at the opposite end of the island, and a bit of a drive. The drive was harrowing. StoneTown was built long before cars were conceived of, so the streets / alleyways are more suited to people and donkeys, than jeeps. We thought we might have a better go of it once we got out of town, but alas no. A combination of narrow roads, cattle, bicycles, scooters, donkey carts, trafic, and police checkpoints would have us at the edge of our seats for the 1 hour long drive. At one point we had to stop for a monkey crossing. Even once we got to Jambiani, we had a bit of a hard time finding a place to park. The town seemed abondoned, all we saw was a few cows on the soccer field and what appeared to be abandoned homes. We finally found a little restaurant where we could park our car and head off to the beach.

Jambiani Beach

What a place. The water was every shade of blue and turquoise, and the the horizon seemed to go on forever with huge billowing clouds seeming to hang on as as if afraid to fall off the edge of the earth, and dhows (the sailing / fishing vessels I mentioned above) floating here and there. It was a pretty shalloow beach, so we all waded out a bit to take it all in when out of nowhere, what seemed to be the entire villages headed out to sea. The tide was going out and the men were off to their dhows to sail out to the coral reef to fish, and the women we off to tend to the seaweed beds in the tidal pools. All this happened as we were standing there, no one paid us any attention. to us, it was surreal, and we definitely felt like intruders. However, I'm not sure that I've ever seen anytrhing more beutiful in my life. The gorgeous beach, the clear blue sky, the dhows quietly sailing off in the distance, quite simply breathtaking. We spent the rest of the day lazing in the sun, swimming and eating seafood, and then watched the entire village come home with their catch as the tide came in. I've had a handful of days like that in my life, but thet are exceedingly rare, and each time they do happen, I can't help feeling that I've been given a little gift.

Anyway, we're taking the ferry back to Dar es Salaam tomorrow, and after that, well we're not totally sure what's next. We'll see where the wind takes us.


Michael
Shangani Post Office
Stone Town, Zanzibar (Tanzania)