Day 35: 1 September 2002 7:30 pm
Not everyone in the group are overjoyed at being reunited on the truck as it does not take long for reality to set in. Two new truck mates join like lambs to the slaughter. And it's nomination day again!
It was time for our Mwenge adventure and to most it was a pathetic, little journey, but for us it was a chance to finally negotiate Africa on our own.
The YMCA kindly stored our bags secured in Pac Safes, a fantastic invention for securing backpacks and we easily hopped onto a dalla dalla (local minibus) outside New Posta. Dalla dallas work on the principle that when they are full up, i.e. someone hanging out the door, they will leave. Listening to groovy East African radio, we trundled up to Mwenge and paid Tsh 150 for the privilege - this was the local fare.
Next task was to locate the ebony wood carving market without a map - all the stalls we came across were fruit and veg. It turned out that it was off the main road and what an Aladdin's cave the market was. Approximately 100 stalls laden with pieces of far superior quality and variety to the carvings in Zanzibar. Men were working laboriously in the centre of the market on their carvings.
I was so pleased that we had made the effort to find the market ourselves, having all the time in the world to browse and choose, rather than being rushed back onto the truck. If you haven't guessed by now, we are ardent souvenir buyers and love purchasing any old tat to take home, often wondering where an earth it will go. We had set our hearts on buying a 'tree of life' ujamaa carving, overwhelmed by the choice we had. These are designed almost like a totem pole of detailed, interlaced figures piled on top of each other.
Tom was impressed by a collapsable ebony table - the legs were elephants or giraffe, but we were horrified by the price - far too expensive for our wallets. The first 'tree of life' we chose to haggle over turned out to be an extortionate US$150 starting price. Of course it was the 'antique special' carving we had chosen. Undeterred, we found a carving with the ebony bark still intact and parted with US$45. Tom then spotted a unique 'shetani' carving, depicting an artist's impression of the underworld spirits, death or the devil. We fell in love with it as we could not find anything else like it and coughed up a hideous amount that I'm too ashamed to state. I keep telling myself it is 'art' and a 'unique piece' so I don't have to think about the money we parted with.
Our last purchase was a small hippo but unlike the smooth hippo carvings found everywhere else, this hippo had detailed features and rough skin on its back. We happily spent three hours in the market before returning to the YMCA.
We had a picnic lunch while the locals gathered round to watch a cheesy episode of "Miami Vice". I'd almost forgotten how awful the pastel suits, Jan Hammer music and huge Eighties hair were. Tom wrapped the carvings and loaded me up like a pack horse - I only just made it to the truck before collapsing under the weight. I was promised Nando peri-peri chips and popcorn in return.
Two new truck mates had appeared - Amelia and Wanda, sisters from Arizona in the U.S. and both as wholesome as apple pie. Roberta and Beth had returned bronzed, henna tattooed and partied out. Beth has splurged US$25 on having hair extensions braided into her hair and it had taken a mind boggling four hours to achieve. Roberta, Belinda and Amy had stocked up on Tinga Tinga paintings (not to our taste but a good souvenir).
Once back on the truck with the group it was like we had never left for Zanzibar. Back to no freedom, talking in whispers on the truck and in our tent, worried that my travelogue would be discovered, drudgery of chores, never leaving anywhere on time, mozzie infested showers, early morning starts... the list seemed endless.
I was on cooking duty at Mikadi camp site and talked Tom into buying me one last slushie (the trip is enough to turn anyone to drink), distracting myself from deshelling and beheading an enormous bag of tiger prawns.
We heard less than complimentary comments on the Vuga Hotel in Stone Town (the hotel that our beloved tour leader had recommended) - she had tried to talk us out of staying on at Narrow Street Hotel yet we had had a lovely stay there and they had really looked after us. Amy had her maglite stolen from her room and Tamsin had a massive argument with the owner over paying for her accommodation. They said she hadn't paid and she said she had.
Roberta was up to her old tricks again and had managed to blag her way into an all-inclusive five star resort on the North beaches of Zanzibar, demolishing an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet, before leaving without paying the bill. She decided to try it again, I think this was really pushing her luck and they threw her off the premises.
We retired early due to the 5:00am start tomorrow, but I found it so hard to get to sleep - I'd forgotten all about the hard ground, constant noise, the sprint to the toilet block in the dark and I longed for a proper bed again. I'd obviously become quite spoilt on Zanzibar.
The showers and toilets were infested with mozzies and I discovered that I had a few other unexpected guests lurking in my toilet - a miniature scorpion and a giant leech.
I tossed and turned, finally drifting off to sleep, only to be rudely awakened by two macho overland truck drivers, saturated with alcohol, egging each other on as to who could drive onto the beach. Of course, the inevitable happened and both trucks got stuck in the sand. We were then treated to half an hour of engines being revved and yells for shovels going unanswered - I silently cursed them and buried my head in my sleeping bag.
Nominations: This week I feel that our tour leader deserves a nomination for causing such a fuss over carrying a copy of Lonely Planet around with us and for nearly fainting when we told her we wanted to stay in the YWCA.
My next nominee is from the Aussie vet truck. General consensus of opinion is that Bradley, a raging alcoholic, needs to be evicted. His legendary 12 hour drinking binge on the truck from Arusha to Dar Es Salaam was the final straw. His time spent on Zanzibar had two objectives - alcohol and sourcing charlie. How dear, quietly spoken Petunia puts up with him, I'll never know.
Well, it's a close call but the tour leader has to go!
Positives: At least our souvenirs made it back onto the truck.
Negatives: Well, we're back on the truck and it's sheer torture.