The Interminable Journey Home

Well, I wanted to hold off on posting this until I had all my Zambia posts up (I'm waiting on some pictures so that I can put them up in the posts), but I am going to fall way behind, so I might as well put this one up since it's ready.


On December 22nd, Bernard and I bought tickets from a bus company called Germins Motorways. I sincerely hope that I never have the misfortune to ride with them again.

Our bus was supposed to leave Lusaka at 4 PM, which puts us in line for a 7 AM arrival at the border. The bus hung around until 5, and then we began our journey. Then we drove for about an hour and a half. There was some commotion and some of the passengers forced the bus to stop at a police checkpoint. It turns out that there were some concerns about whether the bus was fit for the journey. We all climbed off the bus and they looked at the bus and decided that it wouldn't be able to make it to the border (the roads get much worse as we go on). At first, the driver told us that he was arranging for another bus from the company to come and collect us for the rest of the journey. Then after half an hour, he told us that we needed to go back to Lusaka.

We filed back into the bus and some of the passengers were getting ready to demand refunds and file complaints. One passenger became our leader and assured us that we would get to the border in a timely fashion or else we could take them to court. It seemed drastic, but it settled people down. When we got back to Lusaka, the bus left us at a gas station (presumably to prevent us from demanding refunds and buying tickets on other bus lines) and we waited for the replacement bus. There were a few seats, but most of us spread out on the concrete pavement to try to get a bit of sleep. It was more than 3 hours before the replacement bus arrived. I think most people were too exhausted to be belligerent at that point (it was midnight at that point, 8 hours after we were originally supposed to leave Lusaka).

The bus ride was pretty uneventful from that point on. I had some orange juice and then bought some bananas and a packet of lemon cookies and grabbed a Sprite at our first stop (10:30 AM). I read a lot and fired off a few emails from my phone, but I couldn't sleep much on the journey. I was starting to get anxious as we approached the border, since I wasn't sure what time they closed the crossing point. Bernard and I arrived at 5:15 PM on the Zambian side and hurried through the border (10 hours later than we should have arrived). There's a one hour time difference, so it was 6:30 when we reached the Tanzania counter. The official told us that they closed at 7 PM, so we heaved a sigh of relief.

From there, we grabbed a bus to Mbeya. It was a little rainy, but we covered the 120 km in 2 hours, which is about average. The bus left us near the market, but we wanted to be at the bus stand, so we walked to a taxi stand (it was the first time I realized how heavy my bag was with all the equipment in there) and grabbed a tuk-tuk to the bus stand. We confirmed that we were all set for the 5:45 AM bus the next morning and went to find the closest guest house. They wound up having a room with a king-sized bed, so we decided to share the bed, but before we could crash, we needed to grab some dinner. I was supposed to meet someone in Mbeya, but that was out the window by that hour.

It was already 10 PM at this point, but I usually arrive in Mbeya later than that, so I knew where to look for food. We found a nearby bar and grabbed some sodas and some chicken. As we walked in a drunk came up to me and hugged me and then while Bernard and I were sitting at our table talking, the drunk came and started talking to us (though I think there was more saliva coming out of his mouth than words) and Bernard was very helpful in sending him off. As we ate our dinner, Bernard and I carried on talking and the gentleman at the next table (also drunk, but much less of a spitter) was impressed by my Kiswahili and wanted to know my whole story. I wound up giving him my phone number so that we could talk some time and then Bernard and I headed back to wash up and get some sleep. It was just after midnight when we climbed into bed.

We were up at 5 AM and arrived at the bus stop by 5:30. Our bus left at 6:20, but we knew it was Christmas Eve, so we were just hoping to get home quickly (Bernard has a wife and daughter who hadn't seen him for two weeks). At about 9 AM, we had to stop for about 40 minutes because the bus had run out of gas. After that, the ride was pretty smooth, though a bit behind schedule. I grabbed some crackers and orange juice at the first rest stop. Then, at the second rest stop, I ran to the toilet and in the time that it took for most of what I'd eaten over the past two days to escape my system, the bus left without me. Fortunately, there was a bus stop just one kilometer down the road, so I had one of the staff call the bus and had it wait there while I grabbed a lift on a motorcycle. My phone wasn't working, so Bernard had been unable to reach me, but he did grab my luggage to make sure no one looted my things. When I got back on the bus, everyone cheered for me. I sunk into my seat to avoid further attention.

An hour later, we came to a dead stop. There was a long row of cars as far as the eye could see (and the road was winding at this point, so that was quite a distance). Every 20 minutes we were moving about two car lengths. I asked Bernard and he said it was probably an accident ahead. It was super-humid in that area, so we kept hopping off the bus and walking around to cool off. A German guy on the bus told me not to wander too far. Yep, I was basically a celebrity at that point.

The big problem is that there are a lot of free-riders on the road in Tanzania (I've noticed it much more than I saw it anywhere else I've traveled), people who will drive in the lane for oncoming traffic while cars aren't moving and then cut people off to get back into the correct lane. In this case, they turned a small patch of dirt into a shoulder and were driving on that as well. Unfortunately, the path cleared for oncoming traffic to pass first, so we spent quite a while clearing a path for them to pass through so that we could move (there was only one lane to pass the accident, so we couldn't move both lanes at the same time). I was particularly impressed by the fact that I saw fewer than ten police officers helping to direct the traffic, but there were dozens of passengers and truckers who had hopped out of their vehicles and were helping the cars move along safely. Fortunately, from there, the ride was pretty smooth.

We rolled into Arusha at 5 in the morning and I grabbed a taxi back to the house. I got in at 5:30, which means that after 60.5 hours (50 hours on buses) I was finally home for Christmas morning.