Greetings from the small mountain town of Lushoto, in the Western Usambara mountains of northern Tanzania. It’s market day and I’ve just walked 3km into town and then through the busy market of women selling oranges, tomatoes, and avocados, in search of internet, a cold drink, and a little information from the tourist office about how to program our last day here, tomorrow, and catch an onward bus on Saturday, to Tanga on the coast. From Tanga we’ll hope to catch the daily 4PM flight to Zanzibar - $7 for the 4 hour bus ride to Tanga, and $115 for the 15-minute flight on a 13-seater to Zanzibar!
Down the switchbacks on that bus we’ll all be taking some Dramamine for sure, it’s a twisty road up here to the cool pine forest in this town originally settled by the Germans as a summer retreat from the humidity of the coast. In fact the Germans considered making this their administrative center, and the governor moved up here for several months each year. There is still a presidential retreat up here, just up the road from Lushoto, set among the eucalyptus and these remarkable pines they have here, with branches radiating like perfectly spaced stars. (Photos to come tomorrow).
We’ve enjoyed three great days of hiking in the cool forests (saw a trogon!) and across the cultivated valleys up here, based at Muller’s Lodge, which we highly, highly recommend (if you can handle hot and cold running service in a colonial setting for $55 a night, breakfast included). Today we shifted for two more nights to a Catholic convent, school, and guest house called St. Eugene’s Hostel, closer to town, and we’ll hike from there tomorrow. Then on to Zanzibar.
This trip is going exceedingly well. We’ve settled into the rhythm of life on the road in Africa, are still enjoying each others’ company (to the point of all three sharing a king size bed the next 2 nights!!), and have had a wonderful time at each and every stop so far. We regularly play a game of “what was your favorite?” (place we’ve gone, thing, bird, animal, sign we’ve seen, person we’ve met), and we’re all hard pressed to pick favorites. (Though our LEAST favorite hotel and driver went together, in Mombasa the last day - an overpriced German all-inclusive hotel, and a driver bound and determined to kill us all en route to the airport through rain-slicked streets, dodging between port-bound trucks).
One funny thing about the Usambara Mountains, where we are, is the culture of “guiding” that has somehow developed here. They want to provide a guide for every step you take out of your room. At Muller’s Lodge, though they have several (genteel, older) in-house guides, they were kind enough to provide a booklet with directions for local hikes in the forest. And to be honest, it *can* be confusing, since these hills are well populated and riddled with little paths. But we convinced them to let us hike without a guide both days, and both days we managed to find our way, and if we got a bit turned around we simply asked directions - you can’t go 5 minutes on any path up here without seeing someone, it’s populated at something like 300 people per square kilometer.
On the first day the forest path we were supposed to take, according to our booklet instructions, was completely overgrown, but as soon as we started down it about four farmers, hoeing their little plots across the creek on the opposite ridge started yelling to us and pointing to the path through their fields. We wanted woods, so we obstinately went on 100 yards further, and sure enough the forest trail was completely overgrown (why walk in the forest?! The fields are on the other side of the valley!). So we retreated, the farmers laughed, and in broken Kiswahili I ascertained the correct path to “Mama Muller’s,” across the fields of maize and sugar cane, and up the hill.
But today again, at the St Eugene Hostel, we wanted to go for an afternoon walk. Inguiring about which direction we might walk from the property (which is on the main valley road to Lushoto), I was told “you should wait for a guide, but he will not be here until this evening.” Advice we happily ignored, embarking on an hour-long walk up the road and down the dirt roads with remarkable views across the valley. Lyanda and Claire turned back but we were so close that I carried on to town - with dinner at 7:30 there are long afternoons to fill here - and with 6 minutes of internet time left I guess I’d better think about heading back.
We are thinking of you all, and already with just over 2 weeks left, our thoughts turn to August in Seattle (and mine, to work! Right, that thing I do for money!). Seattle, friends, conections there, feel both far and close, carrying you all in our hearts as we do (and mentioning each of you with surprising regularity, as we see things you would be interested in, like, dislike, etc - bikes, snakes, birds, clinics, hikes, construction sites, nuns, Harry Potter-brand chocolate snacks!)
