We have 3 days in this beach paradise before we get back on the road and we are determined to make the most of it. A short walk into the ‘village’ confirms that there is little else in Kandwa apart from beach front hotels. Sunset Bungalows is not the most luxurious of those available, but we have beach chalets, comfy beds, warms showers, home made sun loungers, hammocks and a beach bar. Hell, sometimes we even have electricity. What more do we need?
By the end of Day 2 we need some activity, so most of us have signed up for the snorkelling day out in a dhow. I was last in the queue when they were handing out sea legs and it’s well known that I cannot shut my mouth long enough to hold my breath under water. This was confirmed back in Jinja when I shot the rapids without a dinghy and nearly drowned. Nonetheless, nothing ventured, nothing gained so I take the plunge (literally).
It’s a beautiful run along the shoreline of deserted beaches with white sands and little secluded coves to get to coral reef where we will snorkel. Everyone else jumps in the water with gay abandon and no lifejacket. I dive in with gay abandon too and quickly realise that I have completely forgotten how to swim let alone snorkel. Shortly before I drown for the second time on this trip, I get myself a life jacket. But this only makes the situation worse. I’m bobbing up and down like a lifebuoy and still managing to inhale more water than I have lung capacity. Off comes the life jacket again. Everyone has long since disappeared into the reef and I’m still working out which way is up. Finally, I get myself sorted but our boat’s captain has already decided I am a special needs case and dives in to guide me personally round the reef, taking me directly to all the best spots to see all fish. My little waterproof camera is great.... for about 10 minutes. Suddenly an error message comes up. Seems it can’t hold its breathe as long as I can.
Way too soon we are back on the dhow for a short run to the nearest beach where a lunch of barbequed fish has been prepared. After lunch we set sail for home. It’s not an easy run and the water is much more choppy, meaning there are quite a few green faces on the way back. Fortunately we all hold on to our lunch.
Back at the hotel we’re just in time for a few cheeky cocktails before dinner. The bar DJ has been blasting out his tunes and a group of Italians decides they need to show the rest of us how it is done. Now, I don’t want to generalise but one tends to think of Italians as having an appreciation of music and dance and a good sense of rhythm. Unfortunately this entire group must have been last in the queue when rhythm was handed out. Still, it’s good entertainment for the evening.
For our last night, a group dinner has been organised followed by professional entertainment from a local group of dancer/acrobats. Now I’m not averse to watching the beautifully toned bodies of young men as they perform various acrobatic feats for my attention but these guys contorted their bodies into positions I didn’t think were possible. Don’t try this at home? Hmmm.
We do not have the luxury of a lie in on our last morning. Seventeen of our group leave us today, including my tent mate, Toni. She desperately wants to stay on the trip and, even as we are taking our bags up the steps to load them, she is asking me whether she should stay or go. But it’s too late to change the arrangements and we are soon waving goodbye and heading for the ferry. I’m looking forward to catching the end of the Karate Kid movie.
Back in Dar Es Salaam, one of our newbies, Hannah is not well. What we thought was a bad mosquito bite has turned nasty and the doctors at the local hospital think it may have been a scorpion. She needs intravenous antibiotics twice a day for the next few days, whilst we are on the road. This proves to be more challenging than we first thought.
Back at our campsite in Mikadi Beach, a tuktuk is taking us to our first evening appointment. Hannah and I look nervously at each other as our driver goes off road down a dark track and not towards the town centre. I put my arm around her reassuringly. We bump down a dirt track past some huts and eventually come to a group of small concrete huts. Everything is in darkness but we can just make out a group of people waiting on benches outside one of the huts. Our driver jumps out and leaves us. What are we supposed to do. All the people on benches are looking at us, or so it seems. We can’t see anything in the dark. I am just about to jump in the driver seat to take the tuktuk back to camp when our guy reappears. Everyone’s still waiting for the doctor but we are assured they are on their way. Eventually we are beckoned in, jumping the long queue. There are quite a lot of people in the room designated ‘surgery’ but it’s not clear who does what. Clearly, we are something of a curiosity. The ‘doctor’ looks at Hannah’s medication and seems unsure what to do. Hannah explains. Then I explain, then Hannah again. And so on. Obviously, it’s not easy to read a doctor’s note at the best of times but by candle light? That is one candle! Eventually, the hunt for a vein starts. By candle light. Fortunately I have my head torch and Hannah has hers. Several tries later, poor Hannah is sick and dizzy and we are about to give up when the electricity magically restarts. By the time she has had her dosage we are seriously wondering how we’re going to get through the next few days..
By the end of Day 2 we need some activity, so most of us have signed up for the snorkelling day out in a dhow. I was last in the queue when they were handing out sea legs and it’s well known that I cannot shut my mouth long enough to hold my breath under water. This was confirmed back in Jinja when I shot the rapids without a dinghy and nearly drowned. Nonetheless, nothing ventured, nothing gained so I take the plunge (literally).
It’s a beautiful run along the shoreline of deserted beaches with white sands and little secluded coves to get to coral reef where we will snorkel. Everyone else jumps in the water with gay abandon and no lifejacket. I dive in with gay abandon too and quickly realise that I have completely forgotten how to swim let alone snorkel. Shortly before I drown for the second time on this trip, I get myself a life jacket. But this only makes the situation worse. I’m bobbing up and down like a lifebuoy and still managing to inhale more water than I have lung capacity. Off comes the life jacket again. Everyone has long since disappeared into the reef and I’m still working out which way is up. Finally, I get myself sorted but our boat’s captain has already decided I am a special needs case and dives in to guide me personally round the reef, taking me directly to all the best spots to see all fish. My little waterproof camera is great.... for about 10 minutes. Suddenly an error message comes up. Seems it can’t hold its breathe as long as I can.
Way too soon we are back on the dhow for a short run to the nearest beach where a lunch of barbequed fish has been prepared. After lunch we set sail for home. It’s not an easy run and the water is much more choppy, meaning there are quite a few green faces on the way back. Fortunately we all hold on to our lunch.
Back at the hotel we’re just in time for a few cheeky cocktails before dinner. The bar DJ has been blasting out his tunes and a group of Italians decides they need to show the rest of us how it is done. Now, I don’t want to generalise but one tends to think of Italians as having an appreciation of music and dance and a good sense of rhythm. Unfortunately this entire group must have been last in the queue when rhythm was handed out. Still, it’s good entertainment for the evening.
For our last night, a group dinner has been organised followed by professional entertainment from a local group of dancer/acrobats. Now I’m not averse to watching the beautifully toned bodies of young men as they perform various acrobatic feats for my attention but these guys contorted their bodies into positions I didn’t think were possible. Don’t try this at home? Hmmm.
We do not have the luxury of a lie in on our last morning. Seventeen of our group leave us today, including my tent mate, Toni. She desperately wants to stay on the trip and, even as we are taking our bags up the steps to load them, she is asking me whether she should stay or go. But it’s too late to change the arrangements and we are soon waving goodbye and heading for the ferry. I’m looking forward to catching the end of the Karate Kid movie.
Back in Dar Es Salaam, one of our newbies, Hannah is not well. What we thought was a bad mosquito bite has turned nasty and the doctors at the local hospital think it may have been a scorpion. She needs intravenous antibiotics twice a day for the next few days, whilst we are on the road. This proves to be more challenging than we first thought.
Back at our campsite in Mikadi Beach, a tuktuk is taking us to our first evening appointment. Hannah and I look nervously at each other as our driver goes off road down a dark track and not towards the town centre. I put my arm around her reassuringly. We bump down a dirt track past some huts and eventually come to a group of small concrete huts. Everything is in darkness but we can just make out a group of people waiting on benches outside one of the huts. Our driver jumps out and leaves us. What are we supposed to do. All the people on benches are looking at us, or so it seems. We can’t see anything in the dark. I am just about to jump in the driver seat to take the tuktuk back to camp when our guy reappears. Everyone’s still waiting for the doctor but we are assured they are on their way. Eventually we are beckoned in, jumping the long queue. There are quite a lot of people in the room designated ‘surgery’ but it’s not clear who does what. Clearly, we are something of a curiosity. The ‘doctor’ looks at Hannah’s medication and seems unsure what to do. Hannah explains. Then I explain, then Hannah again. And so on. Obviously, it’s not easy to read a doctor’s note at the best of times but by candle light? That is one candle! Eventually, the hunt for a vein starts. By candle light. Fortunately I have my head torch and Hannah has hers. Several tries later, poor Hannah is sick and dizzy and we are about to give up when the electricity magically restarts. By the time she has had her dosage we are seriously wondering how we’re going to get through the next few days..
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