Day 24 – Dar-es-Salaam to Moshi (Tanzania) (570 km)

22.01.2012

Jules writes:

Remembering the traffic coming into Dar-es-Salaam, we decided to aim for our most ambitious departure time yet, 7am. We have not yet managed to leave sooner than about 30 minutes after the time we aim for, and this morning was no exception, only managing to depart from our beach backpackers at around 07:45, due to lost straps, packing away breakfast utensils etc. We headed out to the ferry crossing, and only managed to get across the bay to the downtown area around 9am. From there, we weaved our way out of the city, planning to stop for petrol just outside the city. We were forced to make an quick stop when John’s bike ran out of petrol, but fortunately we were less than a kilometre from a fuel station, so we were soon back on the road.

About 100 km west of Dar we turned north, once again heading in the direction of Cairo. The roads continued to maintain their quality and we pushed hard that morning, travelling over 200 km before stopping for lunch and fuel at a local restaurant. As we rode on, we baked in the sun, with temperature readings of 39^oC in the shade. Amazingly, it is often cooler riding with the jacket on, which at least provided some protection against the relentless sun. We stopped a couple of times along the side of the road, just a chance to stretch our legs and get some water. As we rode, the changes in vegetation seemed to arrive with greater frequency. Zambia and Malawi had been very similar, with lush green bushes on either side of the road. Southern Tanzania had been similar, but as we drove North, the bushes grew more sparse, and we started to see the land become increasingly dry and arid. At one of our afternoon stops, there were only scattered thorn trees struggling up from the red earth. An old lady and three children appeared from some huts some distance away and came to watch us in various poses of exhaustion, with John stretched out flat on his back on the ground. With no means of communicating, we merely observed each other fro a time, sharing out some of our plums with the children. Then after a few minutes of interested silence, we got back on our bikes, and parted ways. I can only imagine what they thought of the whole encounter.

We stopped at a local bar and had a few cokes and fantas, and then with the sun starting to drop to the horizon, we headed off for the last leg of our days ride. Our plan was to stay in a town called Moshi, right at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro, and as we sped along the road, we could see soft misty clouds ahead of us. Then suddenly, I took a closer look at the clouds, and saw that right above them, as if peeking out at us, the summit of the mountain. We were close. Now, I had been having problems with my headlight on the bike, a short-circuit somewhere was causing the fuse to go every time we tried to fix it. And so, as the mountain took on a faint blush, as if embarrassed by her boldness in staring at these strangers, we raced the sun to Moshi.

We were looking for a place that had been recommended to us, the Honey Badger. As we arrived in Moshi, I saw a sign for the place, and turned around. My dad did likewise, but Shan and John sped up. Exasperated, I told Dad that I would catch up with them and let them know that I’d found the place. However, they were pacing it, and so I eventually managed to catch up with them as they pulled over to the side of the road under another sign for the Honey Badger. Evidently, the sign I had seen was just an early warning billboard, and and so I said that I would go back for Dad, about 7 km back. SO I headed back the way I came, and met up with Dad and we headed to the campsite. When we arrived, the other two had asked about rooms and been told that there was only an executive room with a double bed in it, or camping. Dad and I went to find out if they would let us put two mattresses in the room, which they agreed to, although we would have to pay a bit extra to cover the full English breakfast the next morning. However, when we went back to the others, they had already started setting out tents. With the prospect of a warm bed and comfortable mattress, Dad and I were keen on the room, but Shan and John seemed committed to camping out. So in the end, each did our own thing, with Dad and I sharing a room, getting a chance to wash and dry our clothes and living in style. I can only hope that the others passed a comfortable night in the tents.