10/06/10
We are now in Zanzibar and have enjoyed doing very little over the last few days. It's nice to be on our own schedule now. After the tour ended we stopped in Arusha for 24 hours to regroup and find out where in our ever increasing number of bags we had packed all the little bits and pieces we thought we'd need for the trip, but actually haven't seen in at least a month. We also needed to cure our internet withdrawal. Arusha is an ugly hectic African town, although we were there on a Sunday and the streets were ghostly quiet, apart from the tourist tat shops being open and the street vendors that collar any white person and sell the same stuff as the shops. They find the most imaginative ways to strike up a conversation and guilt you into buying something. When the tour group dropped us in the town and then headed off for Nairobi, I left Nick for 15 minutes while I found a bed for the night. By the time I got back he'd already been suckered into buying a Swahili phrasebook and was part way through buying an overpriced painting.
We had hoped to get a room with a little luxury, mainly a bathroom you didn't have to dress to walk to. Soon realized that bathrooms were well out of our budget and ended up at a very dingy YMCA. Our standards have dropped so much since leaving Thailand that 2 hard beds with mosquito nets, dirty draughty glass windows, a bare concrete floor and a grimy toilet 15 metres down the corridor actually felt quite luxurious. Unsurprisingly, we stayed in Arusha less time than originally planned, long enough for half a day on the internet, and to get ourselves on a flight to Zanzibar. We were meant to catch a bus, spend the night in Dar, then take the 2 hour ferry to get there. The journey on the road on the way up was so bad, and the ferry so rough that we thought the extra $70 on the flight was well worth it. Next day we arrived at the airport an hour before the flight and were told check in wasn't open. 40 minutes later and they were still waiting for 'the man' to arrive. 15 minutes before the flight he pulled up, hopped out his car, strolled over, gave us our boarding passes, and then walked us through 'customs' to our 12 seater plane. We were joined by another English couple who had been bumped to our flight when the plane they were on changed destinations at the last minute. Typical Africa.
Small planes are my idea of hell. There's too great a proportion of air verses metal around you, and being able to see out the front leaves nothing to the imagination. I was terrified making our way down the runway. We got there, started to turn, the pilots looked and fiddled with the console, turned again, and then told us we couldn't take off as there was a problem with the breaks. At least I was reassured that even in Africa they make sure everything is working before leaving the ground. It took us nearly 4 hours of sitting around before we left the ground.
Flying in an aircraft that is that light and small is not for those with a fear of flying. You feel every gust and get buffeted around like a feather. Coming in to landing I could see the runway in front swinging like a metronome. Not sure I’ve ever been more scared in a plane. Nick was happily oblivious and was taking pictures out the window. As to whether the hour and half flight is better a 12 hour bumpy bus + night in Dar + 2 hour ferry, well the jury's still out.
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