Slept very soundly last night due to an exhausting day of sunbathing. We got up at ten and ventured outside for breakfast. On our return to the guest house we picked up our clean laundry and tried to stay longer in our room without paying. We thought we had achieved this simply by staring gormlessly at the bloke on reception. However, when we attempted to escape at 1.30, we were apprehended by another man who suggested we pay half-board. Fortunately he had no change for our mighty 200 shilling note so he let us off.
Soon we were at the bus station, savouring the delicious aroma of rotting fish and decomposing garbage. We looked nervously at the bus on which we were to travel for 14 hours. It looked rough.
When we actually boarded our luxury transport, we were delighted to see that the two-inch thick vinyl seats did not recline, that the bare metal floor had holes in it, and also that we were sharing the bus with several hundred litres of milk, amongst other merchandise. We estimated the "cabin temperature" at 115°F but that was the least of our worries.
After a rather bumpy ride through the beautiful, lush Kenyan countryside, we arrived at Lungalunga on the Tanzanian border. I was rather nervous about the customs post, as I was smuggling out 400 shillings in one of my socks. The maximum is 20 shillings.
After unbelievable delays at the Tanzanian side of the border we were finally off again. The whole procedure took 4½ hours, most of which was spent sitting on concrete steps. We were surprised at how we were treated because we are backpackers who look like students. All the locals had the third degree—even their towels were thoroughly searched. We were just asked a few questions.
Soon we were at the bus station, savouring the delicious aroma of rotting fish and decomposing garbage. We looked nervously at the bus on which we were to travel for 14 hours. It looked rough.
When we actually boarded our luxury transport, we were delighted to see that the two-inch thick vinyl seats did not recline, that the bare metal floor had holes in it, and also that we were sharing the bus with several hundred litres of milk, amongst other merchandise. We estimated the "cabin temperature" at 115°F but that was the least of our worries.
After a rather bumpy ride through the beautiful, lush Kenyan countryside, we arrived at Lungalunga on the Tanzanian border. I was rather nervous about the customs post, as I was smuggling out 400 shillings in one of my socks. The maximum is 20 shillings.
After unbelievable delays at the Tanzanian side of the border we were finally off again. The whole procedure took 4½ hours, most of which was spent sitting on concrete steps. We were surprised at how we were treated because we are backpackers who look like students. All the locals had the third degree—even their towels were thoroughly searched. We were just asked a few questions.
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