Tales of the unexpected

Thursday

We set off from Iganga at 8.30 for the three hour (we estimated) ride to Masaka. This allows an hour for the border formalities as we cross from Uganda into Tanzania. We make good time and reach the border fairly effortlessly on the generally good roads. 

 

As we reach the Police checkpoint, we are instructed to park our bikes and go to the Police office for registration. This passes off fairly smoothly and we move on to the Immigration hut where I (Paul) surrender my passport to the official behind the glass screen. After scanning my passport and taking my fingerprints he asks for $50. This comes as a surprise as I have already bought my visa so do not expect to pay anything. I ask for and explanation, but because he is sitting a metre behind a thick glass screen, can barely speak English and someone behind me is shouting into his mobile phone I don’t hear it. I ask him to repeat. He does but again I cannot hear the reason for the additional charge. By this stage I’m getting quite irritable, mainly at the bloke on the phone and tell him to turn his phone off so I can hear.

It transpires that the additional charge is because we have filled in the wrong form, giving the impression that we are making a second visit on our single entry visa. I correct this at which there is much stamping of documents and we are out and on to the customs hut for our carnets to be stamped. This occurs without incident and we are out of Uganda and into Tanzania, where the whole process is repeated.

Each border crossing has three key factors. First; Someone who wants to fix everything for us and then get some money at the end when all we want to do is GO. Second; hand written records in books and on triplicate carbon copies at every stage. One does wonder whether any of these records ever get used for anything. Third; the favorite toy of the immigration services, the finger print reader. Four left, four right then thumbs. We have decided that the 10,000 shilling note Martin held briefly in his lips without thinking (and indeed without problems) is not as heaving with germs as the finger print machine at the borders! A craving for alco-gel or wet wipes is understandable is it not!

Despite all the bureaucracy, we both agree that this transition is a lot less stressful than our crossing from Kenya into Uganda.

One of the things we wanted to do was join the boda-boda guys on their stand so we had a go at that and it was so much fun!

 

 

 

Once into Tanzania, we ride the 30 minutes or so to the Zebra Hotel where we have stayed before and are both looking forward to staying again. I ceremonially hand over the key to room 110 that has been in my possession since our last visit in 2010 when Paul planted it in my luggage before we left. They were pleased to get the key back and slightly amazed I had remembered it. The views from Zebra Hotel are splendid and it was great to be back there. As we reviewed our route for the next few days we decided on a change of plan in order to cut a corner, save some miles, some money and possibly have another truly authentic African experience into the bargain!

Friday

We leave the Zebra Hotel and are on our way to Bukoba where we are hoping to catch the 21.30 evening ferry to Mwanza. This will save around 200 miles of fairly boring riding and should put us a day ahead. If it works out it will be a real bonus although we aren’t holding our breath! We arrive at Bukoba around 11.30 and make our way to the port where we can see our ship already in the harbour. This is the first time we have seen Lake Victoria and it will probably be the last of the whole trip. But this time we aim to get onto the lake and not just look at it.

                                     The boat in the background...little did we know!


First we check at the ticket office – only second class is available which means sharing a 6 bunk room. Cost £10 per person. We are then directed to the “parcels office” who will be responsible for shipping the bikes. Cost £10 per bike. Finally we attend the Port Authority office for “a small administration fee” - £1.50 all in. We are told to return around 4pm when our bikes will be loaded, so we go into to the town for some lunch and rest.

                                                          Lake Victoria Beech club!

Relaxing before boardng the ferry

View from the boat of Bukoba coast line

We researched a Tanzanian internet dongle but this is going to take 5 days to be registered and useable so we ditch the idea. 

Parcel  office

 

Cargo

Sleeping Giant or Fat person for short

 

 

At 4pm we return to the port and no sooner have we put the bikes on the side stands that we are surrounded by around a dozen lads in fluorescent jackets who, amidst much excitement, seize the bikes and begin pushing them towards the ship. We offer to ride them the 500 metres or so but they are clearly so keen to actually push them that our offer is declined.

As they reach the ship, we both realize it is not the usual P&O roll on – roll off type, but is a battered old tub  onto which they intend to crane the bikes! Paul’s is first and is pushed onto a 3 metre square metal tray which they intend winching aboard using an ancient crane. I suggest that the bikes are very heavy and that this may not be either stable or safe at which I am told “don’t worry, someone will go with them”.

We watch with some trepidation as the tray is connected to the crane, one of the lads climbs astride the bike and it is lifted 30 feet into the air and deposited on the upper deck. All the while he has one foot just touching the surface of the tray and if the bike had slipped he would have been helpless to do anything. These guys are quick and uncompromising and if we want to suggest something to them, like leaving it in gear while it is 30 ft in the air on a rusty metal tray, then we have to be quick. All around us is chaos as bananas and other produce are man handled onto the ‘ship/boat/vessel/tin tub’.

 

 

 

 

Martin’s bike gets the same treatment and they are set up on the top deck right on the bow on the highest public part of the ship. Winching them off tomorrow should be a doddle now that we have seen the technique. We do notice later that some of the trays only have three rings at the corners rather than four which makes us a little nervous.

The bikes are tied to any and every available immovable object such as rails and posts. We do not have enough rope or ties so we are taken by one of the deck hands to a shop just beyond the compound to by a ‘summer line’ which was made of woven sisal. Martin bought two and the tying off was done. Paul, organised as ever had packed rope in his luggage! Meanwhile the deck below was literally stuffed with bananas so that access to the deck where the bikes were was almost impossible and the steep, narrow, wooden deck stairs were very slippery with a mixture of diesel and banana juice.

As we have a quick look around the ship we see rats scuttling around under the benches. This really is going to be an experience!

The vessel was not due to leave for another 2 hours so we went to the concrete waiting area where there were all manner of people and families waiting to get on board. We had a little sleep clutching our jackets which had all our valuables in them. When we awoke (well Martin had a sleep) we found another waiting room that served beer and cold drinks so we adjourned there for while. Over the cold beer accompanied by Uganda’s version of MTV at full volume we agreed we would get to the accommodation cabin early to take our claim in the least claustrophobic configuration. The 6 bunks were very tight and with the other four (as yet unknown occupants) body heat (not to mention odour) would certainly challenge!

We sneaked through the gate around 7.30 and settled onto our bunks. Martin worked out that the max headroom option for least claustrophobic impact was a top bunk with his head away from the air duct. We just had to wait and see who would join us. One thing was for sure, they would not be a nice middle class English person.

 

Bunking down with Trampas!

Around half an hour after we bunked-in a head came round the door. It was a young Uganda guy who spoke good English and was on his way to a mission trip in Tanzania. Julius turned out to be something of a God-send as we will see later.(In Martins eyes) Then came a young guy with a silent older man. We were told that the young man was accompanying the older one to hospital in Mwanza as he had very bad stomach pain. Martin immediately wonders what he is going to catch overnight…and he didn’t mean fish! Five down. Finally comes Simon, a frequent user of the ferry and a teacher who also spoke reasonable English.

Martin and Julius get talking and I turns out Julius had spent a year in the UK in Bristol staying with Silas and Annie Crawley who are good friends of Martin & Sophie. How bizarre was this! Julius and Martin also suggest some prayer for the man in the bottom bunk. This is duly offered and received with a huge grin.

We explore the ship and see that below deck is the seating for those who will not have a bed for the night. The rats are in evidence and we are certainly thankful for small mercies. We also discover the first class lounge and restaurant where we find we can spend the evening and even get some food. Don’t think British Airways, or even P&O think…well…Africa. We settle in and have a drink and some food which is very nice and comes to £6 for all three of us (Julius has joined us). After a chat we decide to take some air on the deck and see that the ship is traveling at quite a speed. We put in to a harbour on the way to take on more cargo and as we do so we are surrounded by fisherman selling their catch. The fish, which are tied in bundles of six, are offered to the passengers on the end of the fishermen’s paddles and money is sent back by the same means. Much fish is sold and it is a fantastic thing to watch from our upper deck vantage point.

 

The fishermen selling alongside

We decide to brave the cabin for bed and sleep and for Martin there are memories of ‘The Virginian’ and the ranch bunk house where Trampas used his jacket and saddle as a pillow. Except it was not so nice! We all slept amazingly well and greeted the dawn at around 0630 0n the deck which was now absolutely crammed with cargo and people. Especially bananas. We were glad that the bikes would be taken off by the crane as that would be the only way they could possibly make it off the ship above the cargo which was blocking almost every gangway. We did not reach Mwanza harbour until around 9.00 a.m. and almost as soon as we had docked we saw the deck hands making a bee line for our bikes and wheeling Martin’s towards the very steep and very narrow staircase from the deck below. Clearly thee was no way they could man handle the bike off the deck, down the narrow steep steps across a field of bananas as high as a man and then down a second even narrower staircase to the main  deck and off. This was impossible and we just needed to remind the guys at this Mwanza end that the bikes had been craned on and that was the only way they could come off.

This is where Julius came in. He established in Sawahili that during the night at the stop over for extra cargo the crane had broken down. It was not working. Paul and I doubted that these heavy bikes could be lifted all that way at head height and so Julius went to speak to the captain.

Julius our heroic helper

Martin, in the meantime, was wondering if they could summons another ship with a crane, manoever it alongside, crane our bikes onto that ship and then lower them to the dock! Readers, I have has four weeks of this!

Meanwhile the crew were getting more and more lathered up about how they would carry these bikes over 10 tons of bananas and down two flights of submarine scale stairs. Julius returned. ‘hear me out’ he said. The captain says the crane cannot be fixed any time soon. He says he understands the bikes are worth about $10,000 and suggests you let the deck crew go ahead with their plan.

Martin’s bike first. 

 

You must be joking!!! That is my bike!

 

 

 

They lift and strain and squeal and shout and carry and maneuver and check every step of the way that nothing is damaged. While others take huge shoulder loads of bananas off the ship and with people shouting and screaming and sweating. They get the bike off. When it is run off the gang plank onto the shore there is a huge cheer and I give them all a high five. The 10,000 TZSH I had in my pocket (about £4.00 in readiness for the off-load suddenly seemed a little paultry. The guys wasted no time in going up for the second bike. Paul takes pictures pretending to be unruffled. His bike also emerges from the bananas unscathed to another cheer-  unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. 

 

Looking relaxed...not really!

 I would never have believed they could do it. Julius establishes that they want 100,000 TZSH between them which is about £50. After some too-ing and fro-ing things get heated and Martin decides to give them half of that. But only once we are both ready to ride off! We know that is still a huge amount for them. The money is handed over and the grins tell us they are very happy. For £12.00 each so are Paul and I.

 

Unbelievable!

This has been a fantastic experience and one we will never forget. As huge bunches of bananas are thrown to dock staff off the boat and the chaos of the landing continues Julius jumps on the back of Paul’s bike and we head for town to get a cup of tea. After a bit of searching we find a great coffee shop where we have African Masala tea and omlettes all round. After Julius is picked up by his Tanzanian Pastor and we have taken a quick photo we part company and head out of town at 11.30. After a few miles we stop to sort panniers and put our boots on and get sorted after the quick get away from the port. The roads to Nzega are long straight tarmac through rugged Tanzanian scenery. We arrive at the guest house around 3.00 and have a ‘shower’ before finding a cold beer and some shade in the very hot sun. Enough for one day! 

Some scenery. Tanzania is really beautiful and so different to where we have been so far.