Cats on Safari – Safari Ngema to Nairobi

Princess Anushka refused to re-pose her Pride Rock appearance for the camera, remaining about half way up that mountainous rock

Another pre-dawn start, today’s target is Babati about 400kms away. On the slow Tanzania roads, that’s bound to take 8 to 10 hours. The rain wore itself out last night and for the first time, we are rewarded with an exquisite sunrise rather than gloom. A treat worthy of a photo moment!

There was a second surprise in store – the new highway has been completed and the road is excellent, clearly marked with lines, speed limits and delimitations and for the first time we can rest our hawk eyes and follow the law in peace. We fairly roared along making excellent time, Dodoma flashed past and the first of 3 possible campsites (couldn’t find anything on the internet, were going by our 10 year old African Adventure Atlas) loomed. Well, it would have if it still existed, there was simply no trace of it Kondoa, nor the second site in Kola. We did see a sign for some rock paintings, apparently a Tanzanian Heritage Site but after tracking that down, it appeared the officials granting access were not available, so we pressed on to Babati.

The afternoon was getting darker and gloomier by the kilometer and HO suggested, as we passed a local ‘lodge’ that perhaps we should consider that for the night. One U-turn later, we parked at Faraja Super Self Contained Guest House, complete with a gnome of a host, super excited himself to have mzungu guests.

The Tuskers had barely exited the fridge when the heavens opened and we were stranded in the bar. An overnight in this establishment it shall be, then. No food, apparently, we’ll have to eat in the village. May we see our room (Tembu, meaning Elephant, as we had the luxury suite)? Shown to a spacious room with two couches, a coffee table, kingsize bed with mozzie net, tv in a cage and two tiny rooms (choo and bafu) we agreed to the price of Tsh 10 000 (about ZAR 180) and retired back to the bar for more Tusker and some photographic experimenting capturing rain.

What a difference 10 minutes makes! Eventually the bike's tyres were underwater

It was only later, much later, that we realised the choo was Asian (yes, hole in the floor) and the bafu was a telephone booth with a large bucket of water and a jug for pouring same over your head. There was only one lightbulb in the room and HO began to grumble. “It’s New Year’s Eve, lets go into the village for some local food” I brightly suggest. Donning mud proof shoes, we lock the reluctant cats in the room. Of all the places we’d stayed and the changing enivronments they’ve endured, this was one step too deep into the far side for them and they were on an unflinching mission to escape.

The village extended about a kilometre along the main road but restaurants, there were none. Seeing some activity next to a shop, we pulled over and asked what they sold there. Books and pens, but yes, we could buy food from the vendor just in front of the shop, busily frying chips and grilling ‘cow meat’ kebabs over charcoal. We watched in fascination as the roomful of potatoes was steadily reduced to peeled and cut chips, then fried in oil and put in a plastic bowl, stored for the next order. The ‘chip’ part of our chips and cow meat kebab order turned out to be a chip omelet – simply crack 2 eggs into a bowl, beat, add into the mini frying pan with the chips, allow to set then dish up. Delicious, I might add, but hardly the  stuff of New Year’s Eve dreams. However, as a memory, this is one for the books.

Unsurprisingly, we were early risers on New Year’s Day and followed the cats escape bid into Henry, bidding what we thought to be Babati farewell. At the hamlet’s edge, we saw the delimitation sign, bidding Bonga adieu. We’d fallen short of the much larger Babati town by 15kms!!

Keen for hot showers and to reach Hobbit House, when we realised we were in easy striking distance of Nairobi we carried on through Arusha straight to the border. This part of the journey was an emotional one for me, as Arusha was the gateway to my Serengeti dream of 5 years ago. At that stage, I had no idea when I left Tanzania after a fabulous safari that we’d ever return, let alone be living, in East Africa. Travelling past Lake Manyara, Arusha airport, the Tanzanite shop and where we’d bought our load of Tuskers for the journey to the Serengeti caused a tumult of happy, almost disbelieving emotions. How strange and wonderful life is, how lucky are we to be able to dip our toes into unknown adventures and, so far, emerge from various challenges a little battered but unscathed.

Our roadtrip came to an end far too soon, and we can’t wait to do another. It was amazing, though, to immediately feel at home as soon as we’d crossed into Kenya. This African jewel has become our nest very quickly, in no small part because of the unfettered welcome from every Kenyan we meet. Karibu Kenya.