Long breakfast, with Per trying to fry the potatoes in diesel rather than oil for added excitement and new flavours - the containers were dangerously similar! First light revealed we’d camped right beside the stream in which we’d had our group entertainment and educational wash days before.
Sleeping-bag cold in the back of the track when we drove on; cuddled up for extra warmth. Read all the way into town, the cold and rerun scenery making me apathetic about the outside world going past.
Back into Mbeya, where I went shopping with Markus & Myrta whilst Kel looked for diesel. His non-success was our gain with 2000 extra shillings to spend on food in the market. Went on a shopping spree but still had some money left when we finally depart in a truck laden with bags and sacks of fruit and vegetables and 95 eggs, 60 of which I carried on my lap in a winnowing basket to our lunch stop before we could pack them away.
We were pulling off the road for lunch when the soft ground gave way and Stanley's back end buried itself in dark sludge. Packing the food lockers was a complicated task of shifting, packing and steadying the loose stuff during the violent attempts to get free. Finally made it, leaving a huge hole in the field as a memorial to our visit.
Couple of hours to the borders and a surprisingly short two more hours of friendly efficiency to exit Tanzania and enter Zambia. No money counted for Tanzania, no Zambian official queried our recently updated cholera certificates, and some interesting reading material on the walls of the Zambian buildings:
- “You can rule this country. My government will give you arms to overthrow the present leadership.” Guard against such proposals by the enemy!
- “What tribe are you?” Tribalism retards Zambia’s development. Guard against it.
- Gifts from people who are not very close to you should be viewed with suspicion. They may turn out to be bait, look out.
- Installations are a base for economic stability. Guard them against saboteurs.
- Illegal immigrants are no better than a pest in your garden. Report them to authorities.
We changed US dollars for black-market Zambian money within waving distance of the border compound then drove a few kilometres only before pulling into a cleared area at the front of a small village and we disembarked into fierce cold.
We almost instantly attracted a crowd of cute village children who wished us good morning repeatedly despite the late hour and shook our hands. WE chatted with them around the fire like the good old days, and they stole from us, like the not so good old days, Nikki and Kel’s bedding disappeared in the few minutes it took Nikki to brush her teeth. Some fellow travellers said that they shouldn’t have left it unattended but it's just unpleasant and frustrating; it's so tiring having to be wary of everyone all the time and many of us are looking forward to a time when we can stop seeing every black person we meet as a potential thief - stop wondering if the lad who played his guitar for us was asked to do so to hide the zip noises.
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