Tanga

I have already mentioned the swahili / tanzanian phrases "hamna shida" and " pole pole", and I was immediately forced to apply this to my cycling journey, before I even managed to get going. The guys from the beach apartments locked the doors of the room where my bike was stored, and it took two hours for someone to know with whom or where it could be found. Hamna shida. Pole pole.

Well, after some chapati and chai (also the word for tea here, easy) I got going; man is it hot and humid. I thought it would be fine, but the first day wasn't fun—the busy car road didn't make it any better. Cool experience was when I took a detour through a village to get away from the cars, and immediately came upon a flooded street which I was sure was too deep; a local disagreed and picked up my bike /including luggage/ on his back, and balanced his way across the water on a skinny tube, where I had issues getting across without anything. I was seriously impressed.

Made it to bagamoyo to a really, really nice campsite with pool and bar which made me forget the days exertions. (The next morning crows did shit all over my bags and gear but... Hamna shida.)

On the way to sadaani national park I was treated to my first experience of really really bad tanzanian gravel roads, including the occasional flooded part; you learn to deal with these somehow. The national park was shitty though, as I wasn't allowed to enter by bicycle, and had to have an escort or taxi across, which cost me 100 euro... Waaay more than I wanted to spend, but I didn't have a choice in the end—well that's what they convinced me, I could actually have taken the local bus across, but they hunt on tourists here.

I did see some giraffes, zebras, and other animals, but could have cared less to be honest. I don't like the car experience, if I cannot do it by bike, I will skip the safaris. Interesting about the ride was to experience how deep the ponds are that they drive through... I was not surprised that some truck and multiple motorcycles got stuck on the way, because water for sure entered into the motor at some points.

After that ride I had to cycle in the dark to the nearest town, which was interesting given those horrible road conditions. Thank god for supernova lights. Got some food on the town (mwkaye or mkwaye... I cannot pronounce it either way) and ate with some locals in a very small poor village—they do talk about you in weird suspecting ways, but nothing happened.

Day three was shitty, because I thought I lost my water purifier, it was even more humid, and I lost my towel somewhere on the way: some lady found it for me though, which made me really thankful— it was not my day. But yeah, hamna shida. Have I mentioned that the "roads" are horrible and that it is hot and humid? Best experiences here are just being greeted by kids enthusiastically yelling "hiiii!!! Hiiii!!!" And waving, coming towards you if you stand still, and men that are chilling somewhere yelling "mambo vipi?!". Generally Tanzanian people are very welcoming and interested. Even if they will occasionally ask cash for fuckall. (They will literally come up to you and say "give me cash!") But just say no and they will leave you =)

I mentioned this "hamna shida, hakuna matatizo, pole pole, hakuna matate" already right? Well, I think this is more the mindset of people because it is forced upon them, rather than an active choice. Roads are horrible and unrideable after rain; blackouts during the day or evening are norm rather than exception; it is so hot you are inclined to sit around and relax. And the bikes or cars that they ride and drive are not exactly made for going fast either. I am also losing stuff because I am less focussed and the heat makes things harder.

Which brings me to today: first rainstorm during this cycling trip. And yes, it will rain HARD. But that wasn't the issue— shelter is easy to find as there are people everywhere. The issue is these sand roads become swimming pools — our above-ground pools are just as deep— or the soil becomes so sticky that you just get stuck, and the wheels clog up. (Hamna shida... Oh fuck off) I made it to tanga, but it wasn't fun and I lost my sunglasses to the mud. Oh, I also was not responding "poa" (cool) to people shouting "mambo?!" Anymore. More like "yeah whatever"... But a nice experience nonetheless.

I again could go on and on about details but it's getting too long again. I hope this wasn't a song of self pity; the pictures of the kids surely make up for this.

Plan is to go diving on an island for a few days, and then probably a bus or train to an area with less heat and humidity (and hopefully no rains).Read more