Coming home to a familiar house, albeit with everything covered in a fine coating of red dust, was more of a comfort than we thought after a blissful week on Ushongo beach. B declared on our drive back that she wanted to spend the rest of her childhood here in Africa (turns out on clarification that meant on holiday by the sea).
M's sense of caution was overridden by all our pleas for 'just a little bit longer'.....and it nearly undid us. We got a bit lost leaving our hotel, bemused a few villages by driving through them twice, had a long wait for the car ferry to cross the Pangani river and then just when I thought I'd pulled it off (being only 5km south of Muheza as the sun was about to set) fate stepped in to say 'I told you so'. FLAT TYRE. Actually turned out to be a great experience of Tanzanian generosity and kindness, fortunately being on the edge of a village and with a multitude of motorcycles, when we discovered that although we had a spare tyre, no appropriate jack for the beast of a vehicle we were in.
Crowds began to gather, help summoned, and before we knew it we had 2 good jacks and extra muscles busy helping M under the car. In a surprisingly short period of time we waved goodbye to the giggling hordes of children hiding behind their mother's skirts, the group of eager young men who had rushed to our aid, and whom we think was the village chief, resplendent in white wellies (although he may have been an off duty police officer - hard to know).
We return home richer in friendships, with a promise to visit Arusha to stay with the lovely French/English/Danish family, and an offer to use a magnificent beach house from another expat family anytime we like.
The end of 2018 is drawing in, our time here is accelerating, we may well rapidly run out of weekends to fit in all the things we'd still like to do, and hopefully that will get us through the hotter, harder weekdays.
I often find I have a running commentary in my head of all the moments/experiences/thoughts I would like to jot down but rarely manage to commit them to 'paper' by the time parental duties are done. So a few snapshots inside my head:
Crunching sand underfoot, star splattered sky overhead, children clad only in swimmers as we walk back along the beach from a neighbouring lodge, returning from supper. Trying ever so hard to be brave in the knowledge that the beach is swarming with crabs all making their way to the sea for their night hunt. A mistake to turn on the torch to see there is more crab than sand....
Juicy, dripping mangoes...yup still love them. My parents always said the only way to eat a good mango is sitting in the bath. Shame we don't have a bath...instead we just fight over who gets to suck the flesh off the stone.
Sitting on the hard wooden benches on the car ferry crossing the Pangani river. We have been recommended to go on a river trip to see crocodiles so the girls are nervous at the open sides. All passengers have to get out of their vehicles for the crossing, so we sit debating our actions if a croc decides to jump on board. I mistakenly bring up some of the local history, as Pangani was slave port, though smaller than the slaving centre of Bagamayo further south. It is said that one of the main town buildings had a live slave buried at each corner when the foundations were lain, in the belief that it strengthen the building. Horrifying.
There, that'll do....I shall to a photo catch up tomorrow....and introduce you to our motorbike/bicycle competition; what's the most/largest thing we have seen strapped to the back of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment