After driving the road back up from Dar to Arusha for the second time (this time considerably faster) I was ready for the next leg, whatever that was going to be. The options were to go up to Kenya, or do a loop through Rwanda and Uganda. Until a third option materialised...
After driving the road back up from Dar to Arusha for the second time (this time considerably faster) I was ready for the next leg, whatever that was going to be. The options were to go up to Kenya, or do a loop through Rwanda and Uganda. Until a third option materialised...
I had been back at the campsite in Arusha, sorting things out and hanging out with a couple of the nicest people ever. Byron and Soo from South Korea were part of an overland group, but the rest of the group had gone off on safari for a couple of days, so we spent the time hanging out and cruising in the tuktuk. The rest of the group came back a couple of days later with tales of their safari experiences (yawn) but I went along to be social in the bar anyway.
A few drinks in and I was talking to a very nice (for an American) teacher called Holly, who happened to mention that all her friends from the tour were flying down to Zanzibar early to get a couple of extra days there. Coincidentally, my friend Nish who had been doing a lot of work in Africa had just announced that he would be in Dar es Salaam for the weekend. Before my brain could kick in, I heard my mouth say "well I have a friend I was thinking about meeting up with in Dar - I could give you a ride down!". Cut to six hours later, waking up at the crack of dawn with a stinking hangover, this seemed like a much worse idea. But a promise is a promise, so we saddled up and hit the road from Arusha to Dar. Again.
The problem with giving a 600km ride to someone you have only previously spoken to whilst drunk, is that on a motorbike there isn’t much opportunity to get to know each other. Luckily, when we called it a day having been soaked to the bone in a torrential downpour and were sat at a hostel outside Dar recovering, it turned out that she was still good company and we actually had a lot to talk about.
We got to Dar the next day, and in a slight change of plan rather than go straight to Zanzibar, Holly opted to stick around and the three of us spent the weekend hanging out in Dar. Come Monday morning, we all went our separate ways - Nish to Joburg, Holly to Zanzibar, and me back on the Dar-Arusha road (fourth bloody time!)
Back in Arusha there was one final tweak to make to The Zebra before she was ready to go. She already had a couple of speakers but they weren’t cutting it. So I bought a bass cannon. Proper Wellingborough townie chav. With that sorted I hit the road. If I wasn’t getting enough attention already, with the bass blasting out I definitely was now. A bit of late 90s UK garage was proving a hit with the locals.
It was 1000km to the border, and with a maximum range per day of just under 300km (average speed around 35kmh!) it was a long, long way. It was made more trying by the mechanical issues - starter motor spring went, valve stem broke, axle rubbers changed, and despite having a new piston fitted in Arusha (for the princely sum of $30 including labour) she was smoking again. Despite this, I made it to the border and across the river into Rwanda.
