Monday, June 25, 2007
The “Road” to Arusha (call it part one)
We set out earlier than expected, as Jeanine was able to get away at 12:30. So, after a quick lunch we hit the road at 1:20. Jeanine drove with Nik as co-pilot and iPod jockey; Abby and I were in back with Maggie, a friend of Emma Stella. We were first heading through Mbulu, where we would drop Maggie off for a weekend with friends, 2 hours away. The road would then take us through the Mgara and drop into the Lake Manyara region and on to Arusha. The whole trip should take about 6.5 hours.
The views were great and the road was mainly smooth, which made Jeanine laugh out loud from time to time. That is not to say we weren’t jostled around a bit, because we were. Every now and then we bounced high off our seats, but this kept us awake and made for a fun ride.
For the final stretch into Mbulu we took a route Jeanine hadn’t driven before and we were not particularly happy with this choice. The road was very rough and caused us to slow down and Jeanine had to shift constantly between 2nd and 3rd. The final descent into town was nice, with the aroma of Eucalyptus wafting through the Cruiser from the mild breeze blowing the fragrance from the huge stand of Eucalyptus trees straddling the road. We stopped beside a river on the edge of town and broke out cold sodas and drake them down while absorbing the culture of the town. The hustle and bustle was like a big city but the people were as friendly as any we had come across. We said our goodbyes to Maggie and mounted us with me at the wheel for the next stretch of our journey.
As I sit here on the veranda of our room at the Outpost in Arusha, listening to our German or Norwegian neighbours banter in the native tongue, the trip of only yesterday seems a distant memory. I suspect this is due to the surreal beauty of the scenery we passed along the way. I’ll try to continue with some concentration.
We drove through the orderly town of Mbulu, which seemed marginally out of place when compared to Haydom. The roads here were parallel and perpendicular to one another, the town was clean and to top it off a youngster flipped us off as we passed…hmm!! But it was mildly refreshing to see that there are small towns where garbage doesn’t fill the streets and the smell is of the trees and not mixed with the fumes and smoke of raw and burning trash. We moved out of town and found ourselves in a lush green area with wet fields and huge abundant vegetation. We bumped along through these damp lowlands with simple small farms before ascending onto a bit of a drier mountain road.
The road curved its way up to a high ridge passed more homes in the most peculiar perches. We were happy to be in a car as we passed some of the area’s residents pushing their bicycles laden with various things from 25 and 50 kilo bags of rice and flour to huge loads of cotton and firewood. The road here gave sporadic views of the valleys below and the peaks on both sides. It was carved here by human hands and flowing water. The combination made for treacherously deep ruts and steep tracks. At times I had to pick my way by matching the route of vehicles that passed before us and bicycles that had moved smoothly through the rough terrain. Even here, when the road leveled off, we found a small village, clean and orderly with smiling and waving people and lively dogs. We slowed down but had to keep things moving and the road continued its relentless pursuit for higher ground running along the top of a small ridge with sharp drops often on both sides. The road finally left the ridge and moved along the mountain side with the drop to the left giving way to amazing views of high green ridges and fertile valleys carved by ancient glaciers. Here we stopped for a much need pit stop and snapped a few shots of the beauty around us. It was, and is, difficult to contemplate that we were here, it Africa, driving through this unbelievable area. We took it all in but the glorious sights provided a sensory overload. How I drove through this with my eyes on the track in front of us, is any one’s guess.
The views were great and the road was mainly smooth, which made Jeanine laugh out loud from time to time. That is not to say we weren’t jostled around a bit, because we were. Every now and then we bounced high off our seats, but this kept us awake and made for a fun ride.
For the final stretch into Mbulu we took a route Jeanine hadn’t driven before and we were not particularly happy with this choice. The road was very rough and caused us to slow down and Jeanine had to shift constantly between 2nd and 3rd. The final descent into town was nice, with the aroma of Eucalyptus wafting through the Cruiser from the mild breeze blowing the fragrance from the huge stand of Eucalyptus trees straddling the road. We stopped beside a river on the edge of town and broke out cold sodas and drake them down while absorbing the culture of the town. The hustle and bustle was like a big city but the people were as friendly as any we had come across. We said our goodbyes to Maggie and mounted us with me at the wheel for the next stretch of our journey.
As I sit here on the veranda of our room at the Outpost in Arusha, listening to our German or Norwegian neighbours banter in the native tongue, the trip of only yesterday seems a distant memory. I suspect this is due to the surreal beauty of the scenery we passed along the way. I’ll try to continue with some concentration.
We drove through the orderly town of Mbulu, which seemed marginally out of place when compared to Haydom. The roads here were parallel and perpendicular to one another, the town was clean and to top it off a youngster flipped us off as we passed…hmm!! But it was mildly refreshing to see that there are small towns where garbage doesn’t fill the streets and the smell is of the trees and not mixed with the fumes and smoke of raw and burning trash. We moved out of town and found ourselves in a lush green area with wet fields and huge abundant vegetation. We bumped along through these damp lowlands with simple small farms before ascending onto a bit of a drier mountain road.
The road curved its way up to a high ridge passed more homes in the most peculiar perches. We were happy to be in a car as we passed some of the area’s residents pushing their bicycles laden with various things from 25 and 50 kilo bags of rice and flour to huge loads of cotton and firewood. The road here gave sporadic views of the valleys below and the peaks on both sides. It was carved here by human hands and flowing water. The combination made for treacherously deep ruts and steep tracks. At times I had to pick my way by matching the route of vehicles that passed before us and bicycles that had moved smoothly through the rough terrain. Even here, when the road leveled off, we found a small village, clean and orderly with smiling and waving people and lively dogs. We slowed down but had to keep things moving and the road continued its relentless pursuit for higher ground running along the top of a small ridge with sharp drops often on both sides. The road finally left the ridge and moved along the mountain side with the drop to the left giving way to amazing views of high green ridges and fertile valleys carved by ancient glaciers. Here we stopped for a much need pit stop and snapped a few shots of the beauty around us. It was, and is, difficult to contemplate that we were here, it Africa, driving through this unbelievable area. We took it all in but the glorious sights provided a sensory overload. How I drove through this with my eyes on the track in front of us, is any one’s guess.
