The worst journey of my life started here. The majority of our route was a mud track carved through the countryside. The ride was not just bumpy: We were actually ejected from our seats several times per minute. Sleep just wasn't an option. I was also horrified to see the headlights of other vehicles illuminating a haze of some sort in the bus. Soon the irritation I felt in my nose and throat left me in no doubt as to the source of this haze. Clearly the wheels of the bus were kicking up dense dust-clouds, which had no problem entering the bus via its many ventilation ducts (rust-holes).
After about 14½ hours of the journey we hit the outskirts of Dar es Salaam. It looked revolting. Its suburbs consist of vile shanty towns thrown together using corrugated iron and whatever other materials were available.
At seven o'clock in the morning we limped off the bus, covered from head to toe in filth from the bus ride. I was very pissed off. To make matters worse, the central area of Dar es Salaam was almost as repulsive as its satellite shanty towns. There was neither a modern building, nor even an attractive old building in sight. Everywhere looked dilapidated and filthy. I wondered how long the civil war had raged in Dar es Salaam and why I hadn't heard of it.
During the day we had many surprises, courtesy of Tanzania. The first one was at the bank. To cut a long story short, there is nowhere in Tanzania where one can change money using a credit card. It is extremely lucky that I was carrying dollars, or we would have been right up shit creek without a paddle.
Fortunately there were no problems at the Kilimanjaro Hotel with my suspect currency. I managed to change $110 for us both.
Our next stop was to nip to the call-box to 'phone Joe. Surely this should be no problem as we are in the same town. Wrong! When we eventually found a 'phone that allegedly worked, it was impossible to get through to his number. After about 30 attempts, Olly and a very helpful local managed to get through to the operator. Straight away, the operator made the connection to Joe's house, but unfortunately his mother answered the telephone and she speaks no English. We decided to sort out our accommodation and try again in the evening. We were not optimistic and were keen to leave the country as soon as possible.
Libya Street, Dar es Salaam.
Our third surprise came at the tourist information office. Although the man there was able to direct us to the YMCA, he was not able to sell us a street map. A tourist map of Dar es Salaam is not available from the Dar es Salaam tourist information centre!
Reeling from the shock, we made our way to the YMCA, where our fourth surprise of the day lay in wait. A rather rude woman at reception told us we couldn't pay in shillings as we were foreigners. We had to pay $5 each for the night.
After an expensive meal across the road from the YMCA, we had a nap in our room. After this we went on a search for working telephones. The one in the New Africa Hotel had a good reputation so we headed straight there. We were in luck eventually. Even though it was impossible to get the operator to put us through, we did manage a collect call.
His uncle (in his late twenties!) answered the 'phone and arranged for Joe to pick us up from the YMCA. He turned up at about 8.15. It was good to see a familiar face after meeting strangers since the end of November.
After dropping off our valuables bag at his flat, we drove to the touristy area of Dar es Salaam to have dinner. The roads all over the city are absolutely dreadful; no wonder Joe was driving a jeep.
The Chinese restaurant was very plush, so I was relieved that we didn't have to pay for our meal. In the restaurant we met Joe's young uncle and his wife, and also there was Joe's friend who travelled in the jeep with us.
The meal was excellent, and it was interesting talking to Joe's uncle about Sunderland. (He has a degree in Combined Science from there.) We also talked about travel and the appalling state Tanzania is in. Under the single-party socialist government, the average wage is $160 per annum. Small wonder that Tanzania has no decent roads or public telephone system. I had no idea that Tanzania is the third poorest country in the world. Only Ethiopia and Vietnam are poorer. Even Zaire and Sudan beat it in the league table.
After dinner we walked on the beach for a few minutes before returning to the YMCA via Joe's flat, where we looked at his photos from graduation etc.
On returning back to the YMCA we were delighted to find many insects scuttling around our room, including a 3cm cockroach under Olly's mattress.
After about 14½ hours of the journey we hit the outskirts of Dar es Salaam. It looked revolting. Its suburbs consist of vile shanty towns thrown together using corrugated iron and whatever other materials were available.
At seven o'clock in the morning we limped off the bus, covered from head to toe in filth from the bus ride. I was very pissed off. To make matters worse, the central area of Dar es Salaam was almost as repulsive as its satellite shanty towns. There was neither a modern building, nor even an attractive old building in sight. Everywhere looked dilapidated and filthy. I wondered how long the civil war had raged in Dar es Salaam and why I hadn't heard of it.
During the day we had many surprises, courtesy of Tanzania. The first one was at the bank. To cut a long story short, there is nowhere in Tanzania where one can change money using a credit card. It is extremely lucky that I was carrying dollars, or we would have been right up shit creek without a paddle.
Fortunately there were no problems at the Kilimanjaro Hotel with my suspect currency. I managed to change $110 for us both.
Our next stop was to nip to the call-box to 'phone Joe. Surely this should be no problem as we are in the same town. Wrong! When we eventually found a 'phone that allegedly worked, it was impossible to get through to his number. After about 30 attempts, Olly and a very helpful local managed to get through to the operator. Straight away, the operator made the connection to Joe's house, but unfortunately his mother answered the telephone and she speaks no English. We decided to sort out our accommodation and try again in the evening. We were not optimistic and were keen to leave the country as soon as possible.
Libya Street, Dar es Salaam.Our third surprise came at the tourist information office. Although the man there was able to direct us to the YMCA, he was not able to sell us a street map. A tourist map of Dar es Salaam is not available from the Dar es Salaam tourist information centre!
Reeling from the shock, we made our way to the YMCA, where our fourth surprise of the day lay in wait. A rather rude woman at reception told us we couldn't pay in shillings as we were foreigners. We had to pay $5 each for the night.
After an expensive meal across the road from the YMCA, we had a nap in our room. After this we went on a search for working telephones. The one in the New Africa Hotel had a good reputation so we headed straight there. We were in luck eventually. Even though it was impossible to get the operator to put us through, we did manage a collect call.
His uncle (in his late twenties!) answered the 'phone and arranged for Joe to pick us up from the YMCA. He turned up at about 8.15. It was good to see a familiar face after meeting strangers since the end of November.
After dropping off our valuables bag at his flat, we drove to the touristy area of Dar es Salaam to have dinner. The roads all over the city are absolutely dreadful; no wonder Joe was driving a jeep.
The Chinese restaurant was very plush, so I was relieved that we didn't have to pay for our meal. In the restaurant we met Joe's young uncle and his wife, and also there was Joe's friend who travelled in the jeep with us.
The meal was excellent, and it was interesting talking to Joe's uncle about Sunderland. (He has a degree in Combined Science from there.) We also talked about travel and the appalling state Tanzania is in. Under the single-party socialist government, the average wage is $160 per annum. Small wonder that Tanzania has no decent roads or public telephone system. I had no idea that Tanzania is the third poorest country in the world. Only Ethiopia and Vietnam are poorer. Even Zaire and Sudan beat it in the league table.
After dinner we walked on the beach for a few minutes before returning to the YMCA via Joe's flat, where we looked at his photos from graduation etc.
On returning back to the YMCA we were delighted to find many insects scuttling around our room, including a 3cm cockroach under Olly's mattress.
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