It's just wouldn't be East Africa without something strange and unforeseen happening. Some of the troubles were of our own making. Some were clearly the fault of others. And some were just plain unclassifiable.
Our first hint that things were amiss came at the Tanzanian border when they said we owed another $50 US. We told them that we had dealt directly with the Trade Attache and after a phone call they let us through. However, when we got to Zanzibar two days later, it all hit the fan with their border
people. This despite Zanzibar being part of Tanzania. It took all of Chris' negotiating skills, knowledge of Swahili and more than a little arm waving to get us in at a discount. The bus out of Mombasa couldn't make up their mind whether we were supposed to get out of the bus to ride the ferry across the harbor. The ferry to Zanzibar was a little on the choppy side. And our flight out wouldn't take payment in anything but dollars at the airport. Wouldn't take payment at all the day before at the agent in Zanzibar. Chris had to once again pull out all the stops just to get us on a flight that had both our names on it.
Despite all of that, Tanzania was great. Once we got past the street hawkers, the people in Tanga were just as nice as could be. Dar was every bit the world class city without the rampant theft of Nairobi. A bustling downtown, lots of traffic and stores full of interesting stuff.
Zanzibar was even more amazing. After the fiasco at the border, the main village, Stone Town, was an absolute delight. Most of the streets are very narrow, only permitting bicycles and scooters. But there are all kinds of cool little shops tucked away in all sorts of tight places. What really blew both of us away about Zanzibar was the art. Some of it was museum quality work and even the stuff that wasn't was darn good. There's enough tourist traffic that the prices are higher than elsewhere. Even so, Zanzibar is one good shipping company away from being a major place to get good art.
The final treat was getting to see Kilimanjaro from the air, poking through the cirrus clouds at over 20,000 feet. It was a majestic sight. And almost enough to make us forget about the hassle of making sure we got on the flight at all.
