Arusha, Saturday, February 11, 2017

For me there was nothing particularly unusual about the day until late afternoon when we went to the Blue Heron, a longtime outdoor eatery and social venue. The setting, as for many of the upscale restaurants in Arusha, is in the garden of an large older house, and the house itself is now a gift shop with ridiculously high priced inventory.  We’ve visited this place every year we have come to Arusha and enjoyed it’s calm, peaceful setting and fast internet connection.

John’s cousin Ron had told us about the Blue Heron’s tapas for two that he and Colette had enjoyed when they were here, so since this was Birthday Eve for John, we decided we’d have the tapas for our evening meal.  Ray dropped us off around 6:00, and after some initial beverage time reading and connecting on my iPad, we ordered the tapas. When the waitress brought our order, she was carrying a huge flat rectangle covered with various types of meat, and dishes of bruschetta, humus, guacamole, and cucumber salad. There was also a basket full of grilled focaccia bread slices. It was so amazing that we began eating and forgot to take a photo of it!  Barbecue ribs, mishitake (meat kebobs), grilled baby potatoes, grilled meatballs, and chicken wings loaded the platter. When I tried to move the platter, I found it was too heavy for me to slide; John thought it may have been a slab of polished stone. We left very little of the tapas for the waitress to wrap up for us to take back to Kundayo.

Before dinner, I had gone to check what was in the gift shop this year. As before, there were exquisite and extremely expensive handbags, bejeweled sandals, shimmering scarves, beautifully designed jewelry, carefully made Masai beaded boxes, gorgeous dresses, brightly colored cushions, and a few stuffed animals. In the past I had looked at the tiny beaded slippers for babies and thought how cute they were; this time I chose a pair for Peri. I also closed down the rational part of my brain and bought John a bar of Tanzanian chocolate which cost nearly $7.

We had expected the Blue Heron to be full of customers on a Saturday evening, but very few others were there, and at times, we were alone in the garden. The cushions on the seats and the tables seemed a bit shabbier than before, and I thought that perhaps George’s, which is close by, has lured away many customers who formerly frequented Blue Heron. Or perhaps Saturday evening isn’t a prime time for any eatery which doesn’t have TVs for football games.
We certainly had a lovely time, and even the odor of the kerosene lamp was a nice reminder of times in the Congo when that was our only source of light in the evenings.