Off to Mafia Island (no relation to Sicily, although clearly potential natural sister-island; come to think of it, the owner of the first lodge where we are staying is Italian...) for a few days, then Dar, then Dubai, then home. Badai!
Sunday, August 1, 2010
So Long Arusha
We made it. Two months in Guta apartments with two forks shared between three people. Two months of dusty streets, mzungu pricing, and karibu everywhere you turn. Forget karibu. It's supposed to mean welcome in Swahili. But it really means "give me a second so I can size up how much I'm going to charge you for this." Don't get me wrong, there is a lot we will miss about Arusha: our guard Ima, our main taxi driver Nixon, the guy who sells oranges on the side of the road on the walk home, Picasso for lunch, and the non-mzungu pricing to name a few things. It has been a really good summer, but we are really ready to eat salad, drink tap water, and be able to walk outside after dark.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Meru!
Hola. So for the first time in three weeks I finally did something besides come into work to use the internet on the weekend, and we got out there and climbed Mt. Meru. Meru is not to be confused with two things: Kilimanjaro, and a walk in the park.
Approaching this weekend adventure, the only thing I knew about Meru was that it was not Kili. It's a little bit shorter (15,000 feet at the top versus 19,000 feet), takes fewer days to climb (3 versus 6-7), and rather than camping, both nights are spent in plush cabins, complete with foam mattresses and even pillows whose pillow cases have never been washed. Not bad. So knowing it's not Kili, and in the interests of saving a few hundred dollars, I came up with the novel idea of not hiring a company and doing everything ourselves. If we had hired a company, we would have had a guide, a cook, and probably five porters to carry everything for us. We also might be able to use our legs today. But as the savvy mountaineers we are, as Americans who love DIY, and in search of a real adventure, we went for it.
First day was about five hours of steady uphill. Everything was fine. Nice trees. Our ranger seemed pleasant. Not too hot. Reached the first hut and got our own room. Cooked dinner on our swank new $20 camping stove: ramen (clearly). And even got a decent night's sleep.
Second day: less fine. Upon awaking, our ranger informed us that he was "kidogo mzuri" which means little bit good. Nobody here is ever bad (people always tell us how sorry they are for us when we say we're tired), just less good. Evidently he had hurt his ankle in the night, but was going to try and push on with us. OK. We get going and after four hours of grueling uphill with our 40lb packs, make it to the 12,500 foot hut. We're feeling like this whole carrying our own stuff was a kidogo bad idea at this point.
Eat, rest, and (fortunately) eat again before bed time at 7:30. Getting water is a total fiasco. Everybody we ask tells us to ask our company for water. We tell them we don't have one and they look at us like "oh well, nice knowing you." We finally convince our ranger to let us dig into the staff supply and begin to purify it like nobody's business. Dinner is four packs of instant Annie's hauled all the way from the US and then half way up a mountain; worth every ounce. New stove proves to be not so swank as it breaks right after cooking the mac and cheese, so we then have to go beg the rangers for boiling water. They all look at us like "should we call the rescue copter now?"
OK, so we finally get to bed and neither of us sleeps a wink anticipating our 12:30 AM wake-up knock from Mr. Ernest. Mr. Ernest is our ranger's friend. Our ranger has decided that his ankle (which magically heals the next day) is not good enough to go to the top, so he enlists the help of his friend.
Me: "Oh, so he's a ranger too?"
Our ranger: "No, just my friend."
Me: "OK, so has he done this before."
Ranger: "Oh, many, many times." (which usually means never)
Me: "Mr. Earnest, you know the way?"
Mr. Earnest: [silence]
So Mr. Earnest speaks no English. Ok, that's fine, as long as he knows the way. Does he know the way? Well, at 1:00 AM we start hiking. Full moon and clear night so the path is easy to see. Just some amazing views from the top. Colder than I'd ever been in my life and so windy I thought I was on Everest (except for all the snow and stuff). Most of the final ascent is either sand or just crags, so it's sort of slow going. But true to his name, Mr. Ernest gets us up there a full 45 mins before the next group. As I huddle to stay out of the wind on Socialist Peak, I'm simultaneously awed by the landscape (sunrise over Kilimanjaro in the distance, above the white clouds contrasting with Meru's pure black rock that only comes from volcanoes, amazing) and fighting to feel my toes.
Write my name in the book at the top (in Tanzania, if you don't write your name in a book when you get somewhere, you've not really gotten there) and start down. Another thing about this not being Kili is that we go all the way down to the ranger gate on this third day.
No walk in the park. I'm pretty sure that whatever money we saved by not hiring a company I'm going to have to fork out when we get back to the States on prosthetic knees to replace the ones that the 40lb pack ensured would never work the same again after 8 hours of downhill.
In all, a great experience, but mountains (later discovered that Meru is higher than any mountain in the continental US) of any height should not be taken for granted.
Approaching this weekend adventure, the only thing I knew about Meru was that it was not Kili. It's a little bit shorter (15,000 feet at the top versus 19,000 feet), takes fewer days to climb (3 versus 6-7), and rather than camping, both nights are spent in plush cabins, complete with foam mattresses and even pillows whose pillow cases have never been washed. Not bad. So knowing it's not Kili, and in the interests of saving a few hundred dollars, I came up with the novel idea of not hiring a company and doing everything ourselves. If we had hired a company, we would have had a guide, a cook, and probably five porters to carry everything for us. We also might be able to use our legs today. But as the savvy mountaineers we are, as Americans who love DIY, and in search of a real adventure, we went for it.
First day was about five hours of steady uphill. Everything was fine. Nice trees. Our ranger seemed pleasant. Not too hot. Reached the first hut and got our own room. Cooked dinner on our swank new $20 camping stove: ramen (clearly). And even got a decent night's sleep.
Second day: less fine. Upon awaking, our ranger informed us that he was "kidogo mzuri" which means little bit good. Nobody here is ever bad (people always tell us how sorry they are for us when we say we're tired), just less good. Evidently he had hurt his ankle in the night, but was going to try and push on with us. OK. We get going and after four hours of grueling uphill with our 40lb packs, make it to the 12,500 foot hut. We're feeling like this whole carrying our own stuff was a kidogo bad idea at this point.
Eat, rest, and (fortunately) eat again before bed time at 7:30. Getting water is a total fiasco. Everybody we ask tells us to ask our company for water. We tell them we don't have one and they look at us like "oh well, nice knowing you." We finally convince our ranger to let us dig into the staff supply and begin to purify it like nobody's business. Dinner is four packs of instant Annie's hauled all the way from the US and then half way up a mountain; worth every ounce. New stove proves to be not so swank as it breaks right after cooking the mac and cheese, so we then have to go beg the rangers for boiling water. They all look at us like "should we call the rescue copter now?"
OK, so we finally get to bed and neither of us sleeps a wink anticipating our 12:30 AM wake-up knock from Mr. Ernest. Mr. Ernest is our ranger's friend. Our ranger has decided that his ankle (which magically heals the next day) is not good enough to go to the top, so he enlists the help of his friend.
Me: "Oh, so he's a ranger too?"
Our ranger: "No, just my friend."
Me: "OK, so has he done this before."
Ranger: "Oh, many, many times." (which usually means never)
Me: "Mr. Earnest, you know the way?"
Mr. Earnest: [silence]
So Mr. Earnest speaks no English. Ok, that's fine, as long as he knows the way. Does he know the way? Well, at 1:00 AM we start hiking. Full moon and clear night so the path is easy to see. Just some amazing views from the top. Colder than I'd ever been in my life and so windy I thought I was on Everest (except for all the snow and stuff). Most of the final ascent is either sand or just crags, so it's sort of slow going. But true to his name, Mr. Ernest gets us up there a full 45 mins before the next group. As I huddle to stay out of the wind on Socialist Peak, I'm simultaneously awed by the landscape (sunrise over Kilimanjaro in the distance, above the white clouds contrasting with Meru's pure black rock that only comes from volcanoes, amazing) and fighting to feel my toes.
Write my name in the book at the top (in Tanzania, if you don't write your name in a book when you get somewhere, you've not really gotten there) and start down. Another thing about this not being Kili is that we go all the way down to the ranger gate on this third day.
No walk in the park. I'm pretty sure that whatever money we saved by not hiring a company I'm going to have to fork out when we get back to the States on prosthetic knees to replace the ones that the 40lb pack ensured would never work the same again after 8 hours of downhill.
In all, a great experience, but mountains (later discovered that Meru is higher than any mountain in the continental US) of any height should not be taken for granted.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Shanga, Arusha Oasis
Off the road to Dodoma, down a dirt path in a coffee plantation lies Shanga. It's one of Arusha's highlights - part social enterprise, with workshop space for disabled artists and an onsite shop for their work, part gourmet restaurant (unsurprisingly, French-owned), and part outdoor, riverside lounge.
Though fairly close to town, it is a total escape from the pervasive plastic-incineration fires, black vehicle exhaust, and traffic noise up the road. While we did come to Africa to be in Africa, it was a nice respite for an afternoon away last weekend.
Photos: Nick on the coffee plantation; Glass art / entrance to Shanga; glass furnaces (no glassblowing, yet); working with William to design a necklace from my Zanzibar shells; the lawn lounge; Karibu passionfruit mimosas; finished product!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
North to Nairobi
The Kenya/Tanzania border crossing at Namanga was much smoother than expected (and much smoother than the Arusha/Nairobi highway they are repaving in haphazard segments). Some photos in transit...
Photos: Sisal before the landscape turns to dust; Kenyan immigration; An official roadblock to indicate diversion; Colorful roadside clothing markets and crates; Back to TZ.Sunday, July 18, 2010
Kiri Nyaga*
Back from Africa's second-tallest mountain! While we didn't climb the highest of Mt. Kenya's peaks, which involves technical rock climbing skills, six out of our group of eight successfully summitted Lenana (16,355 ft) for a beautiful sunrise, and hiked a total of 59km over 5 days.
Aside from some troubles with altitude sickness that prevented a few of our fun companions from finishing, it was a really great trip - supremely lucky weather, entertaining new friends, and a finale that included both champagne and Tusker (my kind of hike).
Sadly camera troubles limited what's below, but better photos to come via other photographers.
Photos: Lobelia and giant thistle; Patterned ground from frost heaving; Views of Batian Peak and glaciers from mid-summit; Sunrise over a sea of clouds; Toasting at the bottom with a fellow GSBer!
*The Kikuyu, the main ethnic group around Mt. Kenya, call the mountain Kiri Nyaga - God's Resting Place.
Friday, July 9, 2010
On the road
Nick is off to Rwanda and I'm off to climb Mt. Kenya for a week!
Updates when we return...
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Horizons
Having a mid-summer birthday has meant some pretty lucky locations for celebrating and this was one of the best yet. Nick managed to score champagne from the duty free, creatively found a way to make nutella-frosted cupcakes, and we continued my birthday dinner tradition with a bunch of new friends at a Chinese restaurant in Arusha.
On Friday we headed out to another great weekend escape, taking the bus an hour to Makuyuni (tiny stop on the side of the road where the driver looked at us and then tried to stop us from getting off, so sure was he that this was NOT our destination) and then heading two hours deeper into the savannah of Tarangire Conservation Area. Boundary Hill Lodge has definitely now earned a spot on our life list of places to visit--solar power and rain water, 50% owned and run by the Maasai (on whose land it sits), and uninterrupted views of Tarangire National Park from every angle of each self-contained and environmentally camouflaged room. And an outdoor bathtub (basically earns an automatic spot on the list). We thought the fiery sunrises were the best part until we saw the stars. It was an indulgent trip, and felt a little like robbery, since the resident rates made it a total steal.
... The only downside was that I was attacked by tsetse flies on the way back to Makuyuni--which led us to an adventure of seeing the UN clinic (which almost refused to see me because Nick is on a defense team)--but I'm now fine (fingers crossed I don't develop sleeping sickness)!
On Friday we headed out to another great weekend escape, taking the bus an hour to Makuyuni (tiny stop on the side of the road where the driver looked at us and then tried to stop us from getting off, so sure was he that this was NOT our destination) and then heading two hours deeper into the savannah of Tarangire Conservation Area. Boundary Hill Lodge has definitely now earned a spot on our life list of places to visit--solar power and rain water, 50% owned and run by the Maasai (on whose land it sits), and uninterrupted views of Tarangire National Park from every angle of each self-contained and environmentally camouflaged room. And an outdoor bathtub (basically earns an automatic spot on the list). We thought the fiery sunrises were the best part until we saw the stars. It was an indulgent trip, and felt a little like robbery, since the resident rates made it a total steal.
... The only downside was that I was attacked by tsetse flies on the way back to Makuyuni--which led us to an adventure of seeing the UN clinic (which almost refused to see me because Nick is on a defense team)--but I'm now fine (fingers crossed I don't develop sleeping sickness)!
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