From top: Beach in front of hut where I stayed across the river at Dar.

                 Beach hut Dar.

                 Arriving Zanzibar.



Mind blowing couple a days.
Getting out of Dar was a snip. Seems maybe just one rd heading west. The overnight ferry from Zanzi was a challenge. Although cheaper at 20US instead 35 on the speedy cat, also avoiding the added 6 dollars for the bike, and providing a place to be overnight, it wasn't a pleasant place to be. The steward dressed in navy whites directed me to the VIP suite but all the comfy chairs had been sat on so had to make do. The voyage lasts around 3 hours an then the boat hangs about mid stream tied I think to some bouy arrangement. So having left at 9pm, it then waits offshore where at first it seemed a gentle rock, later turned into more like a fast trot where the rear section of the hull felt like it was slamming onto the seabed. So that's why the steward had been handing out sick bags earlier, but as you know,being a seasoned sailor, I refused. But I was fine though others may well have used them in the darkened VIP but far from really , suite. During the night I had a go at wondering about, as you do. A ship full of sleeping folks makes for an awkward stroll. Stepping over bodies carefully avoiding squashing same, I managed to get out of the cabin onto the aft deck but no way forward as I was keen to see how we were holding steady. I could look over the stern and noticed both props turning slowly. Sure we were held by the boat's anchor as earlier when loading my bike on the bow along with piles of others, the chain looked as though not used. If it were, then very likely the anchor gear would foul up against bike frames or more likely mangle its way through many, mine included.
All sorts of stuff was loaded, and when I googled Zanzibar during the night, wiki mentions a ferry disaster, Tanzania's worst ever due to overloading!
There were some birdies cheeping away and I peered up to see where they appeared to be nesting, then i saw that there were several cages of day old chicks cheeping away. What with fridges galore along with boxes of lord only knows, this boat was packed. No announcement concerning emergency procedures or any such signs could be seen, oh well it looked solidly built at least. And with the name Flying Bird, what could go wrong. Well, six o'clock finally arrived after what felt like ages with little sleep. One lady on the shelf behind, twice had a serious case of the burps, I've never even heard burly blokes make such a din with visions of vomit oozing down my shoulders the VIP lounge that earlier had two women fighting, one of which was very loud while I was trying  peacefully to peel my mango, to be.
Now getting off was altogether harder, someone had left a coffin on the gangway and stepping onto it whilst a hord of so called porters who clearly resent anyone carrying any of their own stuff, almost had me stirring the corpse with my size 11 boot shod feet against a puny and very bendy budget body box. Shouting only seems to urge these gorillas on and I had no choice but to breathe out to be thin while they thundered by, all one hundred of them as they scrambled, competing with each other to get hold of the biggest or priciest luggage.
Then out to face the crowd of taxi touts, absolute mayham. Really is survival of the fittest.b Darwin impressing stuff.
When the third taxi tried to grab me, though what they thought I'd do with my Raleigh, who knows. I shouted " I can't see!" a look of concern appeared on this fellas face which impressed me know end especially as I really could not see for the sleep gunge had created a very efficient mask over both my eyes.  I needed water and asked this chap where the nearest source was. Often scarce and especially so free with the competing bottled industry. I still haven't come round to the idea of buying water and washing my eyes with bought water , well you can see my problem.  Somehow this chap realised my way and directed me diagonally across the road to a very peaceful church garden with a TAP!
Thanking the Lord and saying a prayer, I washed and filled my bottles. Along came another chap who was also praying, another Simon which seemed most significant to him. We parted with smiles and I received some directions for the road out of the city.
A dusty stream of chaos and occasional belching diesel forced me to hang on to my breath now and then. Gradual climb out of the city with all road users competing for space. Lorries and coaches command most respect and have the loudest hooters. Soon their horns merge into the hum drum of the road and I have mixed feelings. On one hand the road width or lack of it at times makes the hooting feel aggressive and unnecessary as one hears at least the first one coming so no need for a warning signal if that is the drivers intent. Still, the use of hooters here, although common, is thankfully less than in India for example. On the other hand, the sudden rush of wind as they pass and especially if they do so closely, produces a helping surge or push and a pleasant although short lived cooling breeze. Often they seem to come in droves or convoys. One can only guess that others are following as their sound is merged with the leading vehicle and they all just go by in a thundering crescendo. I kept thinking that this was not for feint hearted folks, maybe just stupid ones.
The first few kms out of Dar are fine as there are two middle lanes mostly used by motorcycles and bikes. Its beyond the suburbs where  space gets to be an issue so that several times I chose to leave the tarmac for a bumpy time.
I had the company of a fellow cyclist returning home from his night job in the city and the alone where shortly after I pulled into one of several it seems, motel type places called Serengeti this or that. Breakfasted on a chapatti with banana salt and lemon.  A concocted banana pancake since the chapatti had been destined to contain goat or other meat which did not appeal.  All washed down with a cool drink had me on my way again.
My goal was to make a good dent in the distance towards Morogorro and I knew it would take at least two days.
Even garages or fuel stations seem not to provide water these days and ever concerned about the need for it has me on the lookout like a hawk for a mouse. Getting a bit low, and coming across a newly built garage with several smart fuel tankers, caused me to pull into this impressive establishment. There was a SHOWER BLOCK!
So there I stayed fo half an hour while I deluged in desire, it was pure bliss. Water, gods gift for life is the most wonderful indulgence especially when hot dusty and thirsty. Standing first under the cold stream of refreshing joy, fully clothed and gradually undressing while my togs and I had a good clean. Amazing and free what's more. The tap would not release any water at first so I hollered out a clear plead and some magic happened via a friendly face. Offering to pay but not required endeared me further towards these friendly, respectful Tanzanian folk.
Further on I came across a small village with a canteen. Now you may know that my nose doesn't work. I can only breathe through it but derive no sense of smell nor ever remember having so. You may often track down a meal by smelling it as I have often heard folks say what's that cooking remark. For me though, I am on the lookout for big pots which hold great promise of cooked food. Ugali or pap as we know it in SA is often combined with beans, bananas, some greens and a meat stew of sorts. I have been having little meat preferring just the vegetables, fruit and occasionally fish which is a preference over meat normally. Taken to bitter lemon too where i can get it.
Writing this from morogoro and will post again before I leave for Iringa tmo.
S.