From Dubai to Arusha

January 6, 2017, Saturday

The complementary breakfast in the morning was the best thing so far in our trip. There was a very ample section of hot dishes, platters of meats and cheeses, and lots of fruit, yogurt, juices, and pastries. I counted four varieties of croissants. I also noticed that there was beef bacon and turkey bacon, and lamb sausages, but no pork, of course. My spirits soared!  Even causing a big stir by tripping on a slight rise in the floor and crashing down didn’t dampen my spirits though I got water all over my pants.

Returning to the airport gave me another chance to “sightsee,” but again, all I could see were office and commercial building and an incredible highway/road system. Dubai certainly knows all about excellent infrastructure. I also saw an occasional palm tree or flowering bush and one gorgeous white mosque. Then, we were back in the big expanse of white and gold, and soon seated in a lounge full of Indian women waiting to board our next flight, to Dar es Salaam.  Excuse me for noting it was a “sari” sight.

This time my wheelchair pusher was a young man from Indonesia. John always has to interrogate these people about their lives, etc. The poor guy probably wondered if we were CIA. He offered to stay with us for the hour until boarding, but we cut him free and sat by ourselves until boarding time.  Finally, we were on our plane to Dar. This time the flight was only 4.5 hours, and our captain was Heather Wolf. Both facts cheered my heart.

Then we hit Dar, an airport I totally hate, and everything was as awful as I expected it to be. Of course, there was the walloping hot humidity, and then the long crush of people waiting to pay for their entry visas and pass through immigration. The smells, sights, and sounds are a melange of a thousand tribes from all over the world. Now, instead of being nicely pushed around in a wheelchair, I was expected to stand for more than an hour until we could pay our $100 a piece for our visas and then wait another 30 minutes for them to be stamped and returned to us along with our passports. Only then, we could pass into true HELL. In a space much smaller than most school gymnasiums, hundreds of people were pushing and shoving to get to the one—yes only one—baggage claim area to retrieve their luggage from who knows how many different flights.  John went to fight through the  crush, while I sat myself on the edge of a security check counter guarding our carry ons and pretending I didn’t know I shouldn’t be there. Everyone was battling for luggage carts, so I watched until someone unloaded at the security counter and then snatched that one. It took John almost an hour to find our suitcases and load them on the cart.

Hell continued as we had to pass through another security check to exit the air terminal and wait to transfer to our next and last flight on Air Precision to Kilimanjaro Airport. Yes, we went through security to get out of the terminal! We had about 4 hours to wait until we could return inside to check into our flight, so we ended up sitting on metal seats outside, drinking passion fruit Fanta and watching people come and go. I was too frustrated to dig out my Kindle and didn’t have a clue as to how to program and use my new iPhone. So, I watched people of many colors and costumes come and go, and tried to imagine what their stories were. There was one very large group who all seemed to know each other, and so I thought they were likely an extended family gathered to see someone off. Later, I was proved correct. There were also a fair number of young men, sitting with cellphones. I’ve always assumed they are doing nothing while trying to appear as if they are doing something and watch my luggage with extra care whenever they sit next to me.

Finally, we could go through another security line and check in for or final flight. Once we had our checked on luggage in the system, we went upstairs, and after passing our carry on luggage through yet another security check, we entered the waiting area, where one waits for all the in-country flights. We had time to get something to eat, and went to the little cafe at the end of the waiting area, where even though we know the food will be bad, we ordered beef burgers and chips. While the burgers were as awful as expected, the limp Tanzanian chipsies were wonderful. Only another half hour and we went to board the plane.

The flight from Dar to Kilimanjaro takes only an hour, as does is the drive from the airport into Arusha. As always, our faithful friend Ray was at the airport to meet us and drive us to Kundayo, where we always stay. And, as usual, the staff at Kundayo was out and waiting for us. It’s always a joy to be back here with people we know and love. The one HUGE surprise was that Mazo, the owner - manager, has gotten married, and we met his new wife, Sharro (sp?). They had a small wedding in October, and she seems very nice and fluent in English. Mazo said he had been trying to find a woman who was intelligent and interesting, with whom he could talk, and he was also pleased that Sharro had business experience (She worked for Airtel) and could understand what he does. I really look forward to learning to know her better.

As soon as we could, we showered and went to bed.