Parc National des Volcans, Rwanda

We caught a small coach from Kigali. It had 2 seats on one side and one on the other but the aisle had a small low back seat that folded up against a fixed seat so passengers could get in and out. Sometimes this means that the whole aisle row has to exit the bus if several people from the back seat want to get off the bus. It also means that the bus fills from the back row first. In Rwanda it seems they only take as many passengers as they have seats for which is quite a change from the other countries we have visited.

We climbed up and up through mountain villages. We could see lots of industrious people hoeing and weeding ready to plant maize before the wet season starts in earnest. We saw terraced crops of potatoes, maize, lemon grass (citronella), beans, peas, rice (dry mountain rice), pyrethrum daisies, cucumbers, squash, tea bushes, and tomatoes. In the rocky or stony ground and along the paths were eucalyptus gum trees.



I sat next to a 36 year old man from Burundi who had studied in Kampala. He had graduated with a BSc and was working at a university in Burundi and had been lecturing in Kigali. His field was livestock improvement and farm management. He had finished lecturing and was going to spend the weekend visiting his family in Ruhengeri (now known as Musanze, after the new president rezoned the provinces).

We got off in Musanze and took a minivan to the small dusty village of Kinigi just a few kilometres away. Most tourists stay at the hotels and lodges in Musanze but they were too expensive for us so we chose a guesthouse near the national park office. From Kinigi we had to hire 2 motobike taxis to take us the 3 kms to the guesthouse. Of course they wanted to charge us extra for the backpacks that we had to strap to our backs anyway. John bargained them down to half the rate they wanted but we paid them the starting price anyway. At the end of the day they will never do the job for less than it is worth but it is always interesting to see how much more they expect 'muzungu' to pay!

The guesthouse had a great view of the volcanoes and mountains that surrounded it. We didn't have a booking but got a nice double room with a hot shower and TV with one local channel. The rate included breakfast and we could eat at the restaurant for lunch and dinner. We did think we might be able to get some food for lunch in Kinigi village but only found a few carrots and tomatoes in the market and a shop with dry bread. As the locals grow so much of their own food they have no need of factory made provisions.

The early morning misty view reminded us of the Chinese scroll paintings.

We had a bit of time before our trip to Volcano National Park to see the gorillas so we spent some time getting acclimatised to the altitude and walking about the area. The local kids would race from hoeing their plots to come and say hello and ask our name in their best English. This would be followed by 'give me money' or 'give me pen' and an enterprising couple of boys wanted English dictionaries that we could buy them in the market. Sometimes there would be hordes of them following us with their hands out for money.



In Kinigi village I spotted these two boys with their home made wire truck. I first saw these when I was in Africa in 1976 and have been looking to get a photo of one since we arrived in Africa 5 months ago. I raced around the back of the shops hoping to catch them as they came around the corner. I pretended to take a photo up the street and then they saw me and walked up to me and greeted me so I was able to get a shot without them knowing I was taking it of them. We have not seen very many of these toys and maybe they have been replaced by plastic toys made in China instead.

There were not many guests at the guesthouse over the 3 nights we spent there. Most people arrived late, got up early, and moved on the next day. Even the staff were surprised that we stayed 3 nights. We met a German lady who had been volunteering with an NGO (Non Government Organisation). She taught the women tailors how to draft patterns and give shape to the clothes that they made for their clients.

Another guest was Katya was from Slovenia and she was working in Kampala, Uganda. She had to cross into Rwanda to have her visa renewed. She worked in media, producing and directing video productions. She also sang jazz in a Ugandan group and has invited us to see them when we go to Kampala next.

When we had got our park permits to see the gorillas we asked if we needed any other information to see the gorillas and were told that we would be told everything at the 7am briefing. In the meantime we learnt from other guests that we needed to hire a driver and a 4 wheel vehicle to get from the park office to the start of the walk to the gorilla groups, and back. We also learnt that the rate for the vehicle was $80 US for the walks nearby and $120 US for the furthest track. After paying $500 US for the park permit it seemed very steep and the vehicle mafia had set the rate so there was no negotiating it. However John met an English guy who offered a ride in his vehicle.

In our group of 8, which is the maximum size of a group visiting the gorillas, were
James, the English guy, who is working as a civil engineer for a Kenyan company and his Norwegian girlfriend Vanja. She worked for a Norwegian company based in Kampala designing crash helmets. We met Jessica, from US, who worked for Peace Corp and had been 2 months in Kigale doing administrative work. Leon, Kirsten (UK) and Kaitlan (US) were doing their medical electives in a rural hospital in Uganda. Most were in their middle twenties and we managed to keep up with them on the walk.

We had chosen to see the Susa group, which we had read about in Dian Fossey's book "Gorillas in the Mist", and it is the largest habituated group they visit. It took a couple of hours to get to the start of the trek. At this time of the year the gorilla like to eat bamboo which is full of moisture after the rains. The walk through the bamboo groves was stunning.



Trackers are employed to follow the gorillas everyday. This helps prevent poaching of the gorillas and the guides are in touch with the trackers by radio so they know where the groups are. Along with the guide we had an armed guard and we were also offered porters if we needed them but no one did.

The gorillas were in the top of the 4 metre high bamboo so we had to climb up to see them. The bamboo was covered with vines so we were able to stand on top of the bamboo to see the gorillas. Sometimes we would hear the bamboo crack as a too heavy gorilla swung on it and he would go crashing down and then scramble up for a new pole.

An old female

The gorilla are so used to humans that they just carried on as though we weren't there. All groups are only allowed an hour with the gorillas and only 40 people a day are given permits.

We saw a set of twins and they rolled down the vine covered bamboo or wrestled with each other.
A laid back guy.

Each gorilla is given a name and once a year there is a naming ceremony for them. The gorilla can be identified by the grooves above his nose and, like fingerprints, each one is different. Groups are still studied as they were by Dian Fossey.



The leader of this group probably weighs 300kg and as the males get older they get a silvery back. The immature males have black backs. After the gorillas had finished feeding they rested under the bamboo so we went under to watch. This silverback strode past John and Leon as they were crouched with their cameras. John could have breathed on him he was so close. Amazing! The silverback had a red gash below his lip as he had been in a fight with the second silverback in the group who fancies his chances for the leadership.

This gorilla found a wild banana to eat. They eat about 16 different types of vegetation. There was a well pregnant gorilla and she sat away from the group eating and resting and she looked as though she would give birth at any time. The gestation period is the same as for humans. One young male gorilla rushed at us a few times and the guide, Edward, would shoo him away. Edward said he wants to touch people but the policy was not to let them do that.

There are 258 gorilla now (in Rwanda) and the population is increasing. However there are also gorilla in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Uganda.

We all enjoyed the experience very much and came away thinking about the future of these rare animals and the effects of tourism on them and the communities, as well as the costs for keeping up such projects in the future.

Kigali, Rwanda

After getting our visa we were shown to a small newish tidy bus and instantly we experienced the quiet spoken friendly manners of the Rwandans. The streets of the border town were spotlessly clean. Rwanda has banned polythene plastic bags so everyone uses paper bags for their groceries. The billboards in the town proclaimed that corruption was not good for the country and urged everyone to pay their taxes and get the country growing.

What a change from the deserts in the south, the hills went on and on and were covered with lush vegetation while the waterfall thundered with raging red-brown water.

We left at the time they said they would leave and the bus was not even half full. At each small town we pulled into the well laid out bus stations and dropped off passengers who were connecting with minivans to go to some of the mountain villages. Rwanda felt instantly well organised and the transport sysytem was working well for the locals.

The houses in the villages near the main sealed road had corrugated iron roofs and were neatly plastered and brightly painted. There were small gardens with cropped hedges and flowers in the garden all giving the impression that the Rwandans were proud of their communities. It was unlike anything we have seen for a long time.

In Kigali we rolled into a street full of minivans and had a short walk to our hotel. A young guy from the bus offered to showed us where to go and he told us he had a Rwandan mum and an Italian dad and had been living in Kigali for 4 years. He was working with a foundation for street kids. He was going to email us to visit the project but we never heard from him which was a shame.

The hotel was not far from everything we needed. It was set down a hill and away from the busy noisy street so we had a restful stay. Kigali, with a population of about one million, spreads out over rolling ridges, hills and valleys so we could get a great view from the balcony on our room across the city.

Place de l'Unite Nationale

We enjoyed the cooler 24 degree temperatures and with only a short walk to the ATM at the Ecobank for money, and then to the national park office for our gorilla permits, and a downhill stroll to the MTN shop to get data for our mobile internet connection, we were done with all our business in under 2 hours. Opposite the MTN was a supermarket where we could buy pastries from the bakery, fruit from the vege section and restock on washing powder, coffee, toothpaste etc. That in itself is a major achievement but to do it all without having to use public transport and in such a short time is not far off a miracle in an African city!

The view from our hotel.

The hotel had satelite TV so we were able to see John Keys, the NZ Prime Minister, with sad news about the Pike River miners' deaths in a second explosion in the South Island coal mine.

We visited the Kigali Memorial Centre by local minibus. It had a very well laid out display recounting the history of the Rwandan genocide with the Hutu and Tutsi tribes. The most enlightening section was that documenting the role of the colonising Germans, then the Belgians
and the parts they played leading up to the atrocities. The second part of the exhibit was a brief display of other 20th century genocides: Jews, Armenians, Kosovo, Bosnia, Cambodia. We realised that we had been to genocide memorials for all these groups except the Armenians. As always it is a sobering experience.

Motorbike taxis are the quickest way to get about. These guys wear vests with their registration number, have the number painted on their bike and helmets. They, by law, have to have helmets for their passengers. Compared with Asia it seems they only take one passenger rather than than the 5 or so Asians carry.

Rwanda has done a remarkable job getting the country to where it is today since the atrocities of 1994 and while they have moved on and no longer refer to separate tribes and call all ethnic groups Rwandans, many outsiders still think of Rwanda as a country at war. We saw many business people from Western countries in Rwanda. There is a lot of construction of huge offices going on in Kigali and except for a few begging children with deformed limbs, most people were well dressed and spending up a storm.

Rwanda is the most densely populated country in Africa with 9 million people and it is tiny. The government wants the refugees who fled to Tanzania, DRC, Burundi, and Uganda to return home. This will surely put a lot of pressure on the ability of the country to provide for its inhabitants without aid. Rwanda's relationship with these neighbours is at times tense and the number of non-government organisations working in the country are apparent in every small community.

Christians form the largest religious group with many of the churches being the American evangelical ones. Each religious group likes to advertise in its shop, hotel, restaurant, on its bus, motorcycle, car or taxi. When we meet people we are asked about our religious views. When we say good bye we are are always given a blessing by whatever god it is they believe in.

We felt safe wherever we went in Kigale and generally people left us alone but were happy to help us of we needed it. People who don't speak English often speak French so we have had to get the little French phrasebook out and delve deep into the memory banks for any fragments of French we still have from our high school days.

Mwanza, Tanzania

Our research, on the Lonely Planet Forum, with others we met, and with staff at our hotel told us to take the Jordan Bus from Arusha to Mwanza. When we went to the bus station we were swamped by touts and later, after checking with our hotel manager, we were able to find the booking office for Jordan as all the other people were agents and would charge us more than if we went 25 paces further to the booking office. It is such a confusing system for non residents. The booking office gives the 3 or 4 agents nearby him the master copy of the bus seating plan and it just goes round and round the bus station depending on whether the customer asks agent 1 or 2 or the booking office. A runner listens to where you want to go and then scoots off to get the seating plan while all the other touts shout and point you to their agency. It's bedlam! Most of the buses had 3 seats on one side of the bus and 2 on the other but they were full so we took the 'luxury' bus that had only two seats each side.

We had to wake the receptionist up as we headed off for our bus even before the morning prayer. The luxury bus had half of its persplex sliding windows covered in a very dark tinted film that was scratched and torn so it was difficult to slide them to get air and even more difficult to see out. In no time we were jam packed with bags and sacks and children in the aisles. The seat behind us had a lady and 3 children trying to jam into a space for one so we were glad not to be stuck with her in a bus with 3 seats across.

We could have taken another shorter bus route from Arusha to Mwanza by going north to the Kenyan border via Nairobi but would have had to pay for a transit visa. The bus would also have cut across the Ngorongoro Conservation area and we would have had to pay park fees. It would then have crossed through the Serengeti National Park and we would also have had to pay fees for that and all up it would have cost us $240 US.

We passed through the Masai Plains and John remarked how it looked exactly like he remembered it from geography at school. The men were wrapped in their red shawls and carrying their knobbed sticks looking after the cattle. The corrals near the house were made of tree branches standing up and rammed into the ground next to the round mud houses covered with thatch.

Some of the land was being cultivated for corn or maize while other plots already had corn with flower heads. All cultivation was done by hand and we saw a lot of children hoeing. On the paths to the fields we would pass women with a cloth on their head and their hoe balanced on that as they headed off to work or home.

The bus only stopped once for the toilet and something to eat and then only for 20 minutes in Singida. Most of the towns we picked up people were pretty run down dusty places. It rained in the afternoon and water came in from the top of the windows and through the ill fitting sliding windows. I managed to redirect the rain from soaking my seat by sticking plastic bags in the cracks. We passed through Nzega and Shinyanga before finally arriving 15 hours later at Mwanza at 9pm.

We checked into a room at the St Dominics Pastoral Centre. John had found the place on the Lonely Planet Forum and it was very nice, quiet (no call to prayers waking us) and a short walk from Lake Victoria and the city centre. Our room was in the three storey wing and we looked down on a lovely grassed area. The room was huge and we spread out and caught up on some maintenance to our gear and gave everything a good scrub after the dusty roads.



We enjoyed Mwanza very much. There was not much to see for tourists but we walked around the lake and watched the locals swimming, washing themselves and their clothes, checked out the port where they loaded dried fish and bananas.

These enormous storks flew over the dried fish on racks ever hopeful that they would be able to grab a takeaway. It is incredible that such a huge bird can glide on the thermals and they are everywhere flying over the city accompanied by the cawing black crows.

The lake has bilharzia but it doesn't deter the locals from drinking the water or going in it to fish or paddle their boats.

These colourful lizards were sunning themselves on the rocks around the lake.

The Pastoral centre was busy everyday with seminars on pediatric care for HIV patients, counselling care workshops and other courses. Some were attended by locals while others stayed in the guest rooms with us.

We met Gothard, a 70 year old German man, who was working as a volunteer at a Dutch orphanage in Ghana. He developed an interest in the country when his daughter went as an exchange student from school. He goes every year for several months at a time and helps with building things the orphanage needs. His last project was a tank stand. We were happy to get information on travel in the country as we plan to go there next year. It was also good to meet someone closer to our ages as there are not many oldies like us backpacking, although Godhard was flying to Moshi.

After a restful time and no touts we were ready to head off to Rwanda. We had to get up at 3.30am and a driver from St Dominics took us to the bus station to catch our 5am bus ride. However we beat the bus there and it finally arrived at 5.30am . Our first stop was to drive onto a ferry that took us across the lake and then onto the Rwanda border.

The ferry

There were two Frenchmen on the bus with us and we shared a taxi from the end of the bus run to the border. The bus headed off towards the Burundi border. At the border we were able to get a visa but the Frenchmen were refused entry to Rwanda as there are some problems between the two governments. The guys were supposed to have used the online visa service to get their visas. We had to pay $60 US for a two week visa but were told that in January the visas will be free for Kiwis.

Moshi / Arusha, Tanzania

Got a brand new ferry back to Dar es Salaam. There were two safari truck tour groups on the ferry and we briefly chatted to a Kiwi couple from Christchurch who were traveling with his parents. They were wearing NZ in Gallipoli teeshirts so it was easy to recognise them as Kiwis.

Spent a night back in Jambo hotel and bought a ticket for Moshi before going to bed. The bus office was just a short walk from the hotel and we were able to get on the 6.00am bus to the main bus station outside town and transfer to an 8.00am air conditioned bus there. The streets are so congested that no buses run from downtown after 7am. At the Ubongo bus station the touts wanted us to pay extra for our bags but we had asked at the office and they said bags were included in the price so we got rid of the touts.

We can't work out how they get paid other than trying to fleece money from backpackers, and there are not so many of them compared with the locals who take the buses. They work as a pack and try to intimidate you into paying, all yelling and screaming the same thing one after another at you. Aggressive advertising to the max.

It was a pretty comfortable ride to Moshi. Not far outside Dar we saw lots of Masai men herding their cattle. They are recognisable as they are very dark, tall, and wear red and or purple shawls. It seems lions don't like red so this protects them from lions. None of them were wearing their jewelery like you see them in the travel magazine photos. They all wear sandals, made either from plastic or handmade from car tyre casing. They wear a knife in a sheath tied to their waist and carry a stick with a large knot on the top. Their villages have mud and thatch rondavels with pens for their long-horned cows to go into at night.
This city boy is so noticeable amongst the western dressed locals.

We were told that the city Masai are often employed as security guards as they are very strong.
We met several Masai at the Moshi market and they were all selling herbs and potions. One guy took us by the arm and told us all about the herbs in his language and then wrapped some dry bark and powders up in a piece of newspaper and popped it into John's shirt pocket. He was so funny. I showed him John's bald patch on his head and asked if he had anything for that. He laughed as I don't think the Masai men go bald at all!

On the road to Moshi were acres and acres of fields of sisal and several factories for processing it into rope.

Moshi is popular for tourists as it is where they can fly into and get guides to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. As the rains have begun the number of tourists wanting to walk are down so we were escorted to our hotel by two touts who wanted to guide us. We thought we would have had a lot more than two. I had a head cold and John had had diarrhoea so there was no way we would be fit enough to walk. We only saw a brief view of Mt Kilimanjaro as it was covered in fog or rain most of our stay and it would have been like walking in the mountains in NZ in winter and not at all enjoyable.

Many places in Moshi were closed for the Eid Mubarak, a Muslim festival. We saw families walking in the streets in the evening in the new clothes they had got for the festival.

From Moshi we caught a small local bus to Arusha. We were able to find a spotlessly clean hotel not far from the bus depot. Our room was cleaned everyday and we got fresh sheets and towels as well as new boxes of soap and rolls of toilet paper. This has never happened in a budget hotel before. The rate also included a breakfast of local fruit, an egg and toast, and hot drinks. The only down side was that the large local mosque was across the street and the first call to prayer at 4.30 sounded like it was broadcast from the balcony outside our room.

It is common in Africa to build large buildings but only complete the ones that you have leased or are using, so the rest of the building stays open to the elements like this one. We saw lots of partly constructed buildings in Arusha and some didn't have any levels completed at all and the concrete was going black with mould and plants were growing where the birds had dropped seeds.


When I travelled in Egypt, Sudan, and Kenya 34 years ago I saw many street machinists like these. This was the first time that we had seen tailors on the streets in Southern Africa. The treadle machines are made in China and the fabrics are usually tradition patterns made in Tanzania. Many of the womens' colourful outfits have words on them and we were told that if you translated them they would be local proverbs.

At a roundabout with an Independence monument were groups of gospel singers dressed in matching outfits singing and dancing. They spent the whole day repeating their moves as a local guy videoed different groups doing different routines. Although it was a Muslim holiday there seemed to be lots of Christian groups celebrating too. For several days we could hear singing and trumpeters cruising the streets playing gospel music.

Arusha was not a very nice city. It was dirty, dusty/muddy with smelly drains and loads of touts (flycatchers as they are locally known). There were many beggars lining the streets and we could identify those with leprosy as they had no toes and stump fingers. The electricity was off for most of the day and sometimes many hours at night so we always had to take a torch with us where ever we went. It was not a good place to eat meat with so little chance to refrigerate food. We both ended up with tummy bugs as a result although we tried to eat vegetarian meals or eat at places with generators.

It rained a lot each day and luckily we had a nice room with tables and chairs where we could sit and read or do online research.

We met a Belgian guy staying at the hotel who was a chef. He had contracts to teach staff in new hotels how to cook French and Italian food. He spent 3 months working with the kitchen staff. He had learnt that he had to get paid 70% of his contract before he commenced work or else he would not see any money at all. Sometimes he returned to the kitchen a few months later and always found that they didn't do the things he had taught them and they had become lazy once they had to do things on their own.

From our hotel window we were able to see Mt Meru but we never got to see it without clouds or rain. We wanted to only stay one night in Arusha but found the bus we wanted to take to was booked up for 3 days. We decided to do a cultural tour and visit a Masai market but there were none happening at the time we were in town so we walked about the city and when it was raining spent time checking out places further ahead online. We had planned to go to Burundi from Tanzania but after checking some of the government advisory web sites we found that there had been murders along the route we wanted to take so abandoned the idea of going there. The only safe place was in the capital and then not at night. All countries bordering The Congo are not safe and especially those towns near the border. We read a newspaper article about a 9 year old albino boy who had been murdered and his genitals cut off as they believe they have magical powers. The article said the murderers came across the border from Tanzania to get the boy.

It is popular to go from Arusha to the Serengeti National Park and Ngorogoro Crater, but as we have seen many parks and animals we have decided not to go. The parks here in Tanzania are also very expensive as the government tries to get as much foreign currency as it can. We have decided that we will save our money and try to see the gorillas in Rwanda instead which costs $500us per day per person in park fees alone!

Zanzibar, the Spice Island, Tanzania.

There is quite a bit of rain now on Zanzibar and when it rains it really buckets down. However we managed to book a Spice tour and get a day with no rain. Two van loads of us headed off to the local marketplace to get supplies for the meal we would get for lunch.

We headed out of town and stopped at a coconut plantation where the guide told us 60% of the land is owned by the government and the balance is privately owned. The plantation had a few plants of the spices the guide wanted to show us growing in between the palms as it was a demonstration garden for tourists. The farms where they grow spices would usually only have one or two types growing and this way we could see several at once.
Faud, the guide, beside a pepper vine. The different kinds of pepper, green, red, black, come from the different stages of maturity and white pepper comes from taking the outside skin off the peppercorn.

The vanilla flowers once a year and has a flower related to the orchid family. A it produces beans only once a year it is very expensive.


The clove is the most commonly grown spice here and the government controls the clove plantations.
Here you can see the clove flower which will now turn into a red fruit with a seed. On either side of the flower are the cloves we know and they are picked before the flower comes.

We tasted curry leaves, and lemongrass (aka citronella) and picked cardamon pods. Faud sliced pieces of cinnamon bark off the trees so we could smell it.

It was interesting to learn about annatto, a fruit that looks like a rambuttan ( a red spiky fruit that is common in Asia), it was split open and its bright red seeds crushed. It is a natural dye used in the olden days for lip stick and today as a food colouring.

None of the spices are indigenous having been brought to Zanzibar by the traders from India and the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). We also saw, pineapples, star fruit and jack fruit.


From the plantation we visited the sultan's wife's private bath house, hammam. Twice a week she was taken the 10kms or so to have bath as she didn't want to share with 90 odd other people.



After a short stop to taste some fruit and get hassled by begging children and young boys asking for tips we stopped at a stall where we could buy packets of ground spices. The Europeans bought packets for Christmas gifts while I chose a rice masala to try one day when we cook for ourselves.

A meal of chapati, rice, a vegetable stew, and a local green vegetable called spinach was served. We sat under a palm shelter and ate sitting on mats in a small village. The meal was supposed to contain the spices we had seen in the plantation but no one told us what was in the dish but it was yummy.

We met some interesting people in the group. Raul was a 70 year old pediatrician from Brazil and asked us to visit him when we go to the World Cup there. He was heading home to fund raise $10,000 to build a school for some Masai people.

Dorothy was from Atlanta and belonged to a group called the International Women Judges' Association. She was being shown around by a Ugandan woman from the group who worked in Arusha. Dorothy was full of life and probably in her 80s.

Along with some young people from Belgium and Germany we finished the day off at a quiet local beach before heading back to Stone Town for banana and nutella pancakes and ice cream.

Zanzibar, Tanzania

The hotel in Dar es Salaam was near the ferry terminal so we walked down to get a ferry ticket to Zanzibar Town on Zanzibar Island. Walking to the ferry area is like a minefield of touts. they leap out from all sorts of places and want to sell safaris, city tours, ferry tickets, bus tickets or get you taxis. They are pretty persistent as well. Two touts vying for business from two different companies start arguing over you as they try to steer you to their chosen offices. We knew which company we had to go with as we had checked it with the hotel so were not going to be swayed by the desperate bantering. We are not sure how the system works here in Tanzania, because we don't pay the touts directly and we are not charged extra on the tickets to cover their services. We think they maybe employed by the company. At the bus stations there maybe 10 or 12 touts chasing people for the one bus company which seems a lot of expense when customers know who they will travel with anyway. However, it does keep a lot of men employed, well dressed, and speaking good English. They also hustle the locals so they are not just there for the tourists like us.

The ferry ride was pretty good and there were not many people on the boat. As has been the trend in the buses they had several TVs showing DVDs of American movies. Even though the actors were speaking English it was still subtitled in English and there were no subtitles in Swahili.

Zanzibar has its own government so we had to pass through immigration with our passports, fill in an arrival form, pick up a departure form, and get a stamp in our passport. The majority of the Zanzibarian population is Muslim although you can see the different mix of the descendants of the islanders. Traders from Persia settled on the island in the 8th century. Between the 12th and 15th centuries slaves, gold, ivory and wood were exported and spices, glassware, and textiles were imported. In the 16th century the Portuguese controlled it. The Omani Arabs were next in the 16th century and it became so prosperous that the Sultan of Oman relocated his court here in the 1840s. In 1862 Zanzibar became independent from Oman and the sultans ruled under the protection of the British. In 1963 it became independent forming a fragile union with the new United Republic of Tanzania.



Some of the streets were wall to residential blocks that looked like they came out of the Soviet Union.

These trucks fill up in the market and head all over the island and are known as daladalas and the locals jam in on bench seats set out on the truck deck. The majority of the vehicles used for transport are imported secondhand vehicles from Japan as they drive on the same side of the road. The same reason we have so many in NZ as well.

We stayed in a guest house not far from the ferry and opposite some of the port warehouses in a dusty/muddy dark street. The place was an old house about 4 floors high. The room was very nice with a huge bed with a net hanging over a fret worked frame. On the top floor was a roof lounge/dining area where we had a great breakfast, could catch up with other guests, watch soccer on a snowy TV, use the internet and have a drink in the evening.

From our bedroom window we could see a local very poor family go about their daily activities. In the morning a young woman in a cotton sari would set a huge pot of porridge over a charcoal fire and from about 5.30 on men would drift in to eat breakfast. A little later women and children would arrive. I was snarled at when I tried to take a photo so didn't persevere. The girl and her family lived in a small area in the back of another guesthouse and had no electricity so cooking, and laundry was carried out on a concrete area outside the door to their accommodation which was also the path we needed to use to come and go from our place. In the evening, the woman, her parents or other relatives, and about 5 children would prepare the evening food. They had two burners going and in one, the oldest woman would fry half circles of pastry dough until they browned and puffed up. The young girl and the children would roll small pieces of dough into thin strips and then twirl them to make a plait. These would be fried and then rolled in sugar and we saw these being eaten with the breakfast porridge. We think the dough puffs were sold at the market in the evening. This routine went on each day we were staying and probably continues year after year.

In the evenings we would wander down to the waterfront seaside area called Forodhani Park. It was completed in 2009 and is a pleasant area with cobbles, gardens, a children's playground and seating. Stall holder's are licensed and have to rent a space from the council where they set up their food stalls only in the evenings. They wear chef's dress and all stalls have vinyl tablecloths in blue and white. This guy sold Zanzibarian pizzas. On the small circle of dough he put a dried circle of dough and topped it with a combination of vegetables and meat. He cracked an egg in the middle, folded it to make a square and fried it on both sides. He also make chocolate and banana and other sweet pizzas for about $2 NZ. Beside this guy was a cane juice seller who made wonderful juice with limes and crushed ginger. You could also buy all kinds of seafood that was prepared, and precooked on skewers and once you selected your combinations it was reheated on a charcoal grill. There were many stalls selling exactly the same things done in exactly the
way and looked like they had been trained by the same person. It was also pretty expensive to buy grilled meat or seafood and the first night there were mostly Western tourists but the next night there were a lot more Africans but they were probably tourists as well.

The old part of Zanzibar Town is called Stone Town and there is a huge renovation and restoration project going on financed by UNESCO. A few buildings were wrapped up and scaffolded. Most of the narrow streets in the old town are not signed so we wandered around looking for the old bath house, cathedral and palace.

In the sea were dhows as well as small boats that looked like Chinese sampans.

I ended up with a head cold that caused me a lot of discomfort in my ears so I was hoping it would not get worse because flu like symptoms are a sign of malaria. If I had got worse I would have had to find a clinic and get a blood test. Luckily with some throat lozenges, antihistamines, and cane juice with lime and ginger it improved.

We met 2 interesting guests in the guesthouse. One guy was from Hungary and the other a woman from Slovenia. They worked for the EU as election observers as a few days before Tanzania had had their elections. One of the requirements to be an observer is to speak French, English and Portuguese. They do 3 or 4 observation contracts per year and sit around the rest of the year waiting for more contracts.

Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

We had a sleep in as the bus didn't got until 7.30 from the Mtwara bus depot. We also all had seats and no one was standing in the aisle. We started on a sealed road but halfway we hit a huge section of road that was under construction. We were in the back row and several times we were tossed up into the air as the bus didn't slow down for the bumps. Ouch!

The biggest difference we could see from Mozambique was that the rectangular mud houses were mostly roofed with corrugated iron.

Once we hit Dar es Salaam we got caught in the traffic for 2 and a half hours. We wanted to get out of the bus and catch a taxi but the driver and his two conductors wouldn't let us. They let some of the locals out but would let us get our bags from the bins under the bus. It was so frustrating as it took us 8 kms out of our way. We think they wanted us to pay them some money for our bags.

We met a young lad on the bus and he got us a taxi. We checked into a hotel in a rough looking part of Dar. The manager upgraded us to a room with aircon and a TV as well as an ensuite for $48 NZ.



The view from our hotel down the street to the mosque. Every night there were dozens of people sleeping on the footpath along this street. To the left was a block where they repaired cars on the side of the road so it was greasy and oily and always cluttered with bits of car parts.

Unfortunately there is no common area in our hotel so we have been unable to met other travellers and get some information on travel in Burundi and Rwanda. The only place we see others is in the restaurant which is also used by the public and means you have to vacate your table as soon as you have finished eating.

We wanted to cash some of our American Express Dollar travellers' cheques but found the office here couldn't do that for us. We need more dollars to buy visas.

We managed to find a Vodacom office to get a new SIM for our mobile modem (dongle) and needed to do a lot of online research for the next few countries we plan to visit. We were able to chat with our daughter and see how the plans were going for her wedding in August in Rarotonga.

We were very happy to find restaurants with Indian dishes and enjoyed having vegetable curries, thalis and samosas.

The city was easy to walk around so we enjoyed seeing some of the old buildings like this one which was once a school. The architecture is a mix of Arabic and Indian.



This shop was decorated with leaves as part of an Indian festival.



These 3 wheeler taxis are common in India and have been introduced to Tanzania. They do cause a lot of accidents as they go too fast and are quite unstable.



Met an American woman at our hotel who was working on her PhD. She had studied art history and was interviewing the locals on their dress and looking at the textile industry. We have seen bolts of fabric made in Tanzania all through the countries we have visited so far. She had learnt quite a bit of Swahili so she could get to appointments with locals in different parts of the city. We have managed a few greetings and a couple of expressions in Swahili and the locals love it if you try and then expect you to be fluent!


The touts are a real nuisance in Dar. They want to push you in the direction of a tour company to take a safari or to climb Kilimanjaro or buy a bus or a ferry ticket. The guide books tell you to take care with people on the street selling tickets etc.


John has had his eyes tested again and the pressures are all fine. The optician was happy to have a chat with him and learn all about the surgery he had had. I had lost a nose pad on my new Namibian glasses so was able to have those replaced too.

40% of Tanzanians are Muslim while 40% are Christian. We saw people dressed in capes with little bonnets like the ones we saw when we were in Yemen and learnt they are a Muslim sect who take a pilgrimage to Yemen. Their clothes are bright colours rather than the common black. We have seen some women with masks and others with veils so there are all kinds of Muslim groups. We have also seen a lot more disabled people on the streets than we have in the other African countries we have been to.

Occasionally we have seen men from the Masai tribe and they look so out of place in the city dressed in their red cloth robes carrying their sticks and wearing their long knives. A local told us that they are employed as security guards as they are so strong. A few times we have seen them outside the city limits tending huge herds of cows on the side of the road.

I got a sore throat the first night here and in no time it had moved to my sinuses and caused sore ears. I dosed up on anti histamines and the pressure on my ears and in my head cleared. At first I thought it might get worse and was prepared to get a blood test to see if it was malaria. It has nevertheless slowed us down so that is a relief.


Bought a ferry ticket to go to Zanzibar Island.

Mocimboa, Mozambique - Tanzanian Border

We hung around the bus station in Pemba waiting for the bus driver to arrive to open the door so we could get in the bus. Just before 5am we queued up at the door and then the locals went crazy pushing and shoving people although there were enough seats for everyone and each person had been given a seat number. It was crazy!

The conductress wanted the same price as we had paid for a seat for our bags and based on what we had paid on other journeys it was double the rate so John protested and refused to pay it. In no time the locals in the bus were discussing 'the Mazungus' who wouldn't pay for their bags. It gave them something to talk about most of the journey. So often we are charged for bags and it goes in the conductors' pocket and so we have asked for a ticket or docket so it goes back to the bus company.

Once we got to the town centre the bus turned back to the bus depot and there they discovered one of the back tyres had been leaking due to a huge dent in the rim. An hour later we had a new rim and headed off again.

The houses in the rural areas were in varying stages of reroofing with thatch. The rainy season is approaching so it is the best time to do such tasks. We were told that the palm thatch can last for 8 years until it needs replacing.

We got off with all the locals at Mocimboa in the early afternoon. A Landcruiser approached us with two Swedish girls and some locals on the back. They wanted to take us on to the border but we decided to spend the night in the village before taking the long difficult ride over the border to Tanzania.

The guesthouse was a short stroll from the bus stop. We had a basic clean room with mosquito nets. There were about 12 rooms altogether and only a couple of other local guests. The shower was a concrete room in the back yard with no roof and consisted of a bucket with a small cup. There was a hole in the floor where the water ran out. The toilet was next door and it was also roofless. The toilet was an oval shaped hole set into a raised concrete step and there was another bucket full of water and a cup to use for flushing.

In the middle of the backyard was a covered well with a container tied to a rope that was lowered to get water. On one side of the yard was a small shelter where the pots, pans and kitchen things were kept. A small charcoal cooker sat under the shelf where the dishes drained.

The family members seemed to spend most of their time in a house 2 doors down the street and the children would run back and forth looking at us, shaking our hands, and then running off.

We strolled around the town and found a local place where we could eat in the evening. The local young men were playing soccer in the sand by the water. There was a quite a bit of construction of new accommodation buildings along the waterfront. There was a huge cement and tiled monument in the city centre to commemorate Independence Day.

The guesthouse owner informed us he had found us a Landcruiser to go in to the border and it would pick us up at 3.00am.

In the evening we discovered that there was no electricity although the house had wiring and electric lights.

At 3am we piled into the back of a Landcruiser along with a few locals and the driver made me sit on the spare tyre. In no time I had to share that with 2 other bums and 2 others standing on it holding onto the rail by the cab. My feet were jammed in between the feet of another man who was sitting on the side rail facing me. We drove around a few streets and through the market until we were full and then headed off. Luckily there was a roof rack to hold bags so that made it easier to fit more people in. John sat above the wheel arch and bounced about a lot.

We were 22 people altogether heading for the border. The first part of the road was sealed but the rest was a sandy track. At Palma da Praia a few people got off and then we continued. A rather large lady started shouting, then screaming, and began wailing loudly. The other women tried to calm her and stopped the Landcruiser. I thought she had hurt herself when we went over a bump. She went and sat inside the cab with the driver. When I asked a lady who spoke English she told me the lady saw someone had loaded some containers of alcohol on the back so being a strict Muslim she was protesting about having to sit near it. I think she knew there was a space in front and decided she wanted to sit there rather than be bounced about in the back.

About 7 kms from the border we got bogged in a river crossing. The Landcruiser 4 wheel drive systems didn't work so all the guys got out and after an hour of jamming branches and stones under the wheels, and much pushing and shoving, and lots of discussion we were out of the river.

This young mum was one of the passengers

After we got out of the bog we headed for the border and passed a group of about 30-40 Somalis heading for Mocimboa on foot, and with very little baggage. Jezeltina, a Tanzanian lady, who spoke very good English told us that the Somalis are not well liked by the Mozambicans but the government encourages them to enter the country. Eventually they will try to get to South Africa.

At the border, we were stamped out and had to open our bags for the customs officer. We have not had to do that before. Once we were done and on the back of the Landcruiser again a local told us the police wanted to see John. When John got into the policeman's office he took John's passport and told him they were very poor and would he give him some money. John said "My government told me not to do this." The policeman said OK and gave him back his passport and we headed off. John had thought that if he had still persisted he would have said 'Give me your name and number and I will check if the NZ Government has changed its policy".

We continued on the Landcruiser for a few more metres and then had to get onto a boat to cross the river that marks the border. Jezeltina had told us how much to pay but the 'boat mafia' wanted double. When Jezeltina asked why they said we were white and had lots of money so we should pay double. She was embarrassed by the Muslim boat men as she was a Christian. I was angry because 'white countries' give so much aid to these countries to help the poor but it is the business men with money and power who are greedy and want the money for themselves.

The boat was leaking badly and the wooden plank had already been patched with fibreglass and other sealants. The man bending over is sticking his finger in the hole. There were about 5 or 6 hippos in the water as well! As the water level was low we had to cross two stretches of water and take a second boat.

We were met on the sand bank on the other side by a minivan. We drove in this to the Tanzanian immigration post where we had to buy a visa for $50 US each. No sooner were we processed then we were surrounded by the money changers. We only wanted to change our leftover Metacals but none of the 6 money changers could work out how much we should get as they only changed in set multiples of Tanzanian Shillings.

Checked into a newish guesthouse near the market and bus depot in Mtwara. Got some money from an ATM and found a place to eat some Indian curries, and bought a ticket for a morning bus out of the place to Dar es Salaam

Pemba, Mozambique.

Woke up at 4am to catch the minibus to Pemba and found it had come 30 minutes early so had to rush to get in it. Got dropped off at the turn off as the minibus headed for Nampula and we were heading in the opposite direction. Had to walk a wee way out of the village of Namialo and queue on the side of the road with the locals for a big bus coming from Nampula. It was chockablock by the time it got to us and we had to stand between sacks and suitcases and babies in the narrow aisle for about an hour and a half . When we finally got a seat we had to wipe it down as a young boy had peed all over it and onto the floor.

At each stop, the locals came out selling tomatoes, live chickens and ducks, potatoes, onions, bread and the usual soft drinks and biscuits. The sellers are well rehearsed and equipped. They have poles to hang things on or stand on plastic crates so they can eyeball their customers as the buses are quite high off the ground.

There were many villages with huge mango and cashew trees so every village seller was trying to sell these as well.

Green cashews.

The beanlike nut at the top of the fruit is the cashew.

It hangs below the fruit from the tree and looks quite odd. The fruit is juiced and sometimes cooked and eaten.

We finally arrived in Pemba after 9 hours travel. We are getting used to waking early as everyone is up and about from 3am on and they make so much noise. It is also so much cooler travelling at that time of the day.

We checked into a lodge at Wimbi Beach about 7 kms further along the coast from Pemba. It is owned by a Kiwi/Aussie guy. He was apparently born in NZ but lived in Aussie. We had a small chalet with a fan, mosquito net, and ensuite. The palm leaf roof had a few gaps so we were always being eaten by mosquitoes.



The tide was a long way out from the shore at low tide and the beach was not very nice at all. The lodge felt like being a guest in an internet cafe because many of the ex-pats would arrive in their 4x4s at all times of the day and night. They would sit in the open thatched restaurant area and plug in their computers and deal with their mails. Sometimes there would be 30 people doing this and just a couple of guests. They never spoke to the guests but socialised with the other ex-pats.

One night there was a movie. One of the local ex pats set up his computer and used the brick wall to project the American movie that was subtitled in Portuguese. Everyone sat round the lawn on benches and cane chairs outside and it was a nice atmosphere.

On our final night a large number of ex-pats arrived and had a party by the pool and the music was so loud that it felt like I didn't have ear plugs in at all. We had gone to bed early because we had to catch a taxi to town at 3 am but after not being able to sleep at midnight I got up. The owner finally decided to shut the party down at 1.30am when he saw me sitting up by myself. He said he was sorry but I doubt it. He makes more money from the ex-pats using his bar and restaurant than he does providing accommodation for guests. We have come across these conflicts before many times.

John met some Canadian travellers who had come the route we had planned to take but in the opposite direction. He was able to get a lot of details about the transport, roads, and accommodation so we knew we were in for some tough days of travel ahead.

On the way to the bus station at 3.30 am we passed a group of ladies singing and banging plates and small drums. The taxi driver said it was to celebrate the 20th birthday of a girl who was still single. They would celebrate in this way for 3 days to tell everyone she didn't have a husband!

Mozambique Island, Mozambique

Another early morning to walk back to the bus station to get a minibus (chapa) to the island. A very helpful man warned us about the thieves at the station and sent us in the right direction to get the correct minibus. No touts came chasing after us as we had got used to in Zambia and Malawi.

The minibus had 3 rows of seats The back seat had 4 people. The next seat had a small seat that folded out into the walk space and 4 people had to sit here too. John was given a thin vinyl covered cushion and he sat on the edge of the bench seat and over the gap with the fold out seat. In the next row there was the same arrangement but there were also small cushions on which 4 people had to sit behind the driver and passenger seat facing those in the front row. There was a large lady who took more than her allocation and 2 women with babies tied to them. There were also 4 people in the cab who had to jam up so the driver could change gear. Once everyone was seated the conductor stood in the doorway leaning over those in the second row. He had even perfected the art of falling asleep standing up without falling on the mothers with babies. After 3 hours, 21 of us all bailed out. Luckily there was a trailer for all the sacks of maize and baggage.

As we neared the island we passed several salt ponds. there were queues of women with woven baskets on their heads collecting the dried salt crystals and dumping them in piles. They had to manoeuvre past each other on the little mud dam walls around the rectangular ponds and they were practically running.

A 3.5 km bridge joins the island to the mainland and it is still under construction in parts and has passing bays as it is only one laned. There are water pipes under the bridge carrying water from the mainland as well.

We checked out the only backpacker hostel on the island but it was full so stayed around the corner in a guesthouse. It was a pretty big Portuguese style place with high ceilings, fans, mosquito nets, and antique furniture. The receptionist didn't speak English so we had to communicate in Spanish. He could understand me better than I could him.

All the rooms had a toilet, handbasin and shower and they were hidden behind movable wooden screens in the corner of the room.

There was a huge well in the back yard that was being renovated because the iron support beams had rusted. It was 10 metres deep and all the rain water from the roof ran into it during the rainy season.

We were looking forward to swimming in the sea but it was pretty rough the first day so we didn't go out. Later we walked about and discovered the locals using the best place to swim as a toilet and sewerage was running into the sea. So we didn't get to swim.

The island is a UNESCO World Heritage site because of the historic stone buildings built by the Portuguese. The island is only 3 km by half a kilometre with 18,000 inhabitants. After the years of fighting finished with independence, many people from rural areas settled in Makuti Town as the island had an established hospital and schools. The island is divided into the historic Stone Town and Makuti Town where the local fishing families live. The Makuti house walls are constructed of a skeleton of thin branches. A second grid of branches is tied to the first and then the space between the two grids is filled with small stones and rocks. Later this is covered with mud and if there is enough money it is painted. The roof is thatched with coconut palm leaves woven flat onto split bamboo. The whole village is situated below the road as it was thequarry site where the granite to build the stone houses came from.

In Stone Town there are many run down empty buildings with families living in them with no electricity or running water. Some mornings we saw people sleeping on the streets in the front of houses.



We only found a couple of other guesthouses and 3 places to eat. UNESCO has given a lot of money to upgrade the historic building ready for tourism but there are not many of the old buildings finished yet.

In Makuti Town the women queued up for water at the pumps. It seems that the basic facilities will not be able to handle floods of tourists on the island.


The young men approached us to sell jewelery or to take us on their boats to visit a light house or go snorkeling. When the sea was rough they would be stitching more plastic sheets to the sails for their dhows or mending their nets.

We visited the Maritime Museum and the local history museum. in the Governor's Palace. The Governor's Palace was interesting with its mix of Goan, Portuguese, Chinese (from Macao), and French furniture. Included in the ticket price was a guide who also came with us to the Portuguese fort. The fort is being renovated and has two churches, a slave market where the people were bought and loaded onto the ships, a gaol and barracks.

The roof of the fort buildings had many channels where the rain was caught and sent off to the underground cistern. From above it looked like a large pin ball track.

Vasco da Gama came to the island in 1498 and in 1507 a Portuguese settlement was started, being an ideal place for a naval base and trading post. It was the capital of Portuguese East Africa until the end of the 19th century. It was one of the Spice Islands. Over the years there have been immigrants from East Africa, Goa, and Macao and now there are places owned by Italians, Portuguese, Swiss, Zimbabweans and South Africans.

The Mozambicans in 1960 protested peacefully about the taxes they were paying the Portuguese and so started the warring for independence. In 1974 the Portuguese pulled out, sinking ships, filling wells with cement, and leaving the country in chaos with no infrastructure or skilled professionals. A period of unrealistic socialist programmes followed until the country was almost bankrupt in 1983. The Frelimo and Renamo parties warred for 17 years and the Renamo's objective was to paralyse the country which it did by destroying the remaining roads, bridges, railways, schools and clinics. Villagers were rounded up and any with skills were shot. There are still some areas where mines have not been cleared. Since 1995 Mozambique has been part of the Commonwealth of Nations although it was never ruled by Britain like its neighbours.

Nampula, Mozambique

We got up at 5.30 in Mocuba hoping to catch an early bus in the cool of the morning. After making our breakfast and folding our laundry we were out the door by 6.30. The student receptionist told us to hurry because there was a bus a few metres up the road ready loading to go to Nampula. We dashed up the road and managed to get a seat. The seats were very narrow and on one side of the bus were three narrow padded seats and there were two on the other side. Surprisingly there were quite a few empty seats on the bus that would have taken at least 70 people sitting down.

Most of the road to Nampula was under construction and there were the odd patches of seal but it was mostly pretty bad.

There were lots of small villages along the way with mud huts with thin grass thatch. At each stop the locals came to sell boiled eggs, mangoes, soft drinks and samosas. The road sides were busy with women carrying 20 litre buckets of water on their heads. They are so strong. One lady had a 50 kg bag of maize on her head as well as a baby on her back and bags of shopping in each hand. They are able to balance the weight of the goods on their heads and still look around for traffic or swivel the baby from their backs to suckle. Pretty skillful.

We were pretty well left alone once we arrived at the bus station, no hordes of touts fighting over us or grabbing at our bags. Bliss. We even beat the bus that left at 5 AM so we were very lucky not to have taken longer than the 5 and a half hours it had already taken us.

With our guide book we were able to find our way to a hotel in the middle of town. It had been fully renovated since the Lonely Planet wrote about it and we were able to get an air conditioned room with a balcony and TV. The restaurant had reasonably priced meals and the rate even included a buffet breakfast.

The Hotel Lurio.

The real bonus was free internet so we could chat online to our daughter who was dealing with a neighbour who had dropped a tree through two of our tenants cars at our place. They also wrecked our clothesline and fence.

When it was cooler in the afternoon we walked about the town centre looking at the only tourist attraction, a huge cathedral.



We watched a couple of teams play soccer in a hard dusty playground and sat with the locals in a cafe with a cold local ale. If there was more to see and do it would have been quite nice to stay longer in the town even though we were warned by hotel staff to put our valuables in our room safe and take care of bag snatchers. We were also looking forward to resting up by the sea at Mozambique Island.

It was really restful being left alone by the locals for a change.