The Road to Dar Es Salaam

Dar Es Salaam

For most of the trip we had set off in the morning with no idea where we would be sleeping come the end of the day. However for the 1,100Km trip from Sangilo Sanctuary in Malawi to Dar Es Salaam we had devised a proper plan. Our day one destination was Mbeya. We intended to stop two more times at Iringa and Morogoro before reaching Dar Es Salaam.

After our experience with the moneychangers at the border and given all the warnings we had received about Tanzania, we started the remaining 100km to Mbeya with all our senses on heightened alert. I was still trying to convince myself that some mates of the moneychangers wouldn’t ambush us - after all there was only one road so it wouldn’t be hard to find us. The other big worry was Traffic Police who, according to legend, were the most corrupt of all the countries we planned to visit.

We hadn’t covered 15Km before I came across a scene that completely astonished me. I hadn’t seen anything like it in Africa and it completely punctured all my apprehensions so comprehensively that I just started laughing. I would be amazed if you could guess what it was that caused this old white man on his big motorbike to be cackling loud enough to attract even more attention from the locals than normal.

Topiary! Yes…bloody hedge trimming. In the absolute depths of grim Africa, where women have to walk miles with 10 gallon containers full of water balanced on their heads, 2 house owners had found the time, money and motivation to create a pretty hedge shaped as a bird. It was as good as anything I have seen in the posher areas in the UK!

In fact, it quickly became obvious that Tanzania was much more substantial than any of the countries we had been through since Namibia. The towns were more substantial and commerce was being carried out. When we stopped the locals took a polite interest but weren’t cloying or grasping as had been the case in Zambia.

We were beginning to relax when we came across our first Tanzanian Police roadblock.

“Oh oh…here we go” I thought.

Not a bit of it. He just wanted to say hello and find out what type of motorbikes we were on. With another “Karibu Tanzania” we were on our way again.

The remainder of the ride to Mbeya saw us travel through lush countryside, banana plantations lining the road. By the time we arrived and had checked into the Forest Hill Motel our perspective on Tanzania had changed quite a lot. I walked into town and had a good laugh with some guys running a store selling “lubrication”. I was trying to find some chain lube but only after some ludicrous miming on my part did the highly amused storeowner get across to me that they don’t bother oiling their chains. The evening meal at the motel was a lot better than expected from a country “with no food”. I had a good night’s sleep but Andrew didn’t fare so well as his plumbing broke, flooding his bathroom causing him to move rooms….twice!     

From Mbeya the road to Dar Es Salaam is a heavily used major arterial route. Over the years the heavy traffic had churned up the tarmac for long stretches creating deep ruts, quite disconcerting when on a motorbike.

Going through towns we kept our speed down to the signed 50Kmph but there were no speed limit signs out of the towns. To be on the safe side we didn’t go over 80Kmph but very quickly realized that made us the slowest thing with an engine. The buses in particular were dangerously fast, the drivers maintaining momentum at all costs. We watched several high speed overtakes around blind bends with an incredulous horror.

Early on the second day we were stopped again by the police but this time they did actually want to check our paperwork. They quickly abandoned the official part of the interchange instead showing a genuine interest in the bikes and us. By this time we had seen that Chinese and Indian built 125cc machines were everywhere so 2 foreigners on a 650cc BMW and a 450cc British built CCM were real talking points. To them these were BIG bikes. Just as I was leaving I asked the policeman for the speed limit. To my surprise he said there was none outside the towns and that we could go as fast as we wanted “For you that will be 2,000Kmph…ha-ha!!” I didn’t like to disappoint by telling him we wouldn’t be going above 100Kmph.

This knowledge meant that we could travel at a safer pace in relation to the rest of the traffic. However we had already decided that the safest place to be in relation to the buses was behind them. Several times we slowed down to 50Kmph as we entered towns only to be overtaken by a fully loaded bus that swept by only braking heavily on reaching the bus stop. We would try hard not to pass them in towns, dawdling along, giving them time to get up to speed and out onto the open road where they would put their foot to the floor and keep it there until the next passenger needed to be picked up. Their cruising speed was about 130Kmph so it made no sense for us to make ourselves targets by passing them in towns. The religious slogans printed on their rears claiming that “God Alone Protects” took on a special significance. We later heard that unfortunately He doesn’t always succeed.

Iringa was an unusual town situated at the top of a fortified hill. Our accommodation was a guesthouse run as a charity, staffed by local deaf and/or dumb. We ate in a local restaurant, which was good and very cheap. There were several noisy processions on the main road mostly by lads on the small motorbikes flying flags, one convoy had purple the other green. I thought it might have been my imagination but, no, I was seeing it…..yes the green flags were all celebrating CCM. A bit of a coincidence! Turns out this is the ruling political party. I was riding an official government bike!

Nosy and noisy cat interested in Andrew's activities

Our bikes were guarded all night by a couple of security guys who earned £2 for their attention. We loaded up and set off going back down the main road. Immediately there was a blockage on the small stretch of dual carriageway that ran through the middle of the town. Without much fuss and not needing any official direction the traffic simply decamped onto the wrong side of the road. The vehicles coming the other way calmly accepted this state of affairs making room for the oncoming traffic. Nobody got upset. Although I was unsettled when I saw the reason for the blockage. A crowd was dragging a disheveled bloke out from under a bus with, it has to be said, very little sympathy. As far as I could tell he was alive, just bruised and a bit bloody. There isn’t much in the way of Emergency Services here!

That day we enjoyed a very picturesque ride through some beautiful countryside eventually getting to Morogoro and checking into a modern and nice hotel on the outskirts of the town for our last night on the road before reaching Dar Es Salaam.

Surprisingly picturesque road to Morogoro

Before reaching the big city we rode through one of the biggest naturally occurring areas of Baobab trees in the world then shortly after right through the middle of Mikumi National park where the fine for running into a wild animal is $200.

I had warned Andrew that I expected the traffic in Dar would be similar to Istanbul – total and absolute chaos. Initially, it looked like I was right. In fact we caused complete confusion by stopping at a red traffic light when we were on the outskirts of the city. Fortunately nobody ran into us. They just swerved around these stupid foreigners and weaved their way through the crossing traffic flow.

By the time we found the wonderful Peacock Hotel in the town center we had worked out that traffic lights are only obeyed if a policemen is at the junction but at no time does a red light apply to any 2 wheel device and in any event the policeman is usually directing the traffic in a pattern completely opposite to the lights…..total and absolute chaos!!