Safari Part 7b

September 4, 2009

Continued...

We wait at the airport, a small, dirt runway affair, taking pictures with Mike and following around the many rock hyrax (little guinea pig type critters). Then load into the small plane to head back to Arusha.


The plane seats maybe 30 people, maybe, and it’s packed. They pass out cold water. The pilot opens a Tupperware container of candy, lifts it up, says ‘In flight service’ and passes it back among the passengers.


The flight is short, 45 minutes back to Arusha, where we are picked up by Mike’s wife, Flavia, and his nephew, Gabey. They take us shopping. We had high hopes for this shopping trip, as we were told it was a kind of bazaar with local artisan’s work. What it really turned out to be was a sort of up-scale mall for wazungu tourists. Over-priced and not fun. Clearly, shopping in Africa just isn’t going to happen.


Then they take us back to our first, and worst, hotel. We have a couple of hours before the flight which are spent repacking and getting everything into bags. This includes about 15 pounds of coffee that Papa Mandela has left for us with reception. This coffee is from his farm, and he’d offered to bring us some. We were expecting a few small bags of whole bean coffee. What we got was 12 large bags of pre-ground coffee. But we somehow make room in our luggage and just pray that customs won’t assume we’re drug smugglers. Considering everything we’re carrying now reeks of coffee, it may be dicey.


Then we head up for a quick bite of lunch and, of course, a glass of wine before we get picked up by Gabey again.


He drops us at the airport at about 6 pm, and Africa leaves us with one last spectacular sunset. By 9 we’re off to Dar el Salaam (the current capitol), then Amsterdam (and bloody mary’s) and finally back to JFK by about 2 p.m. And then I have to say goodbye to two women that I have spent almost every moment with for two and half weeks, who were with me as I vomited on top of mountain, dressed in shukas and danced with me, and sang with me while hiking across an enormous plateau.


It has been journey. One that could not have been better. No one had a bad day, or a bad mood, or even (apart from altitude sickness and banana beer heartburn) felt a little off. It has been a journey of discovery, of the self and the world. And now my only question is: who will fund the next one?


Tomorrow: Who knows?


Photos: Rock Hyrax. Mike Taylor.