Left camp just after 08:30. Checked brake fluid last night, filled it up to the max, seems to be holding today. Right rear tire was a little deflated when we checked it, also not a biggie. Find a fuel stop just a few meters on from where the entrance to the camp was and fill up the Bullet.
Heading out to Mbeya again (yeah, that was where Mattie was diagnosed with Malaria and we had to sleep at the Greenview or whatever site with the Minaret RIGHT next to us). Fanie and Dirk are at a Toyota garage a few KM’s out looking at Fanies timing chain predicament.
Schools in: a timing chain is the bit that syncs the cam and crank shaft, i.e. the valves and the pistons inside the engine. So what should happen is the valve at the top of the combustion chamber opens up to fill the chamber with fuel and oxygen while the piston is in the bottom position. As the piston moves up, the valve closes again, sealing the chamber and the spark plug ignites the mix, sending the piston back down again. This up-down motion needs to be synchronised so that the piston doesn’t end up going right through the valve at the top, or that combustion doesn’t occur while the chamber is open. So, if you lose the timing chain at speed, well, bad things can happen, mkay?
They did manage to buy a new timing chain yesterday, but we have no feedback as to how it’s going. We push on past a few police checkpoints, we’re asked to produce some papers and so on, no biggie. Then Mattie is pulled over for “passing on a solid line”, just like everybody else does. But road laws seem to especially apply to foreigners. He asks what the fine is, officer says 40 000 TSH, Mattie says that’s too much, he’s asked how much money her has, he says 10 000, officer accepts, asks “no receipt?”, Mattie replies of course not, smiling officer sticks money in breast pocket and wishes him a safe journey, and “hope to see you again”. Mattie laughs and says he hopes NOT, since it’s too expensive. Officer laughs and off we go.
Round noon we make a pitstop for lunch, pasta left overs and I make myself some 2 minute noodles for later (dunno why, I had as hankering for 2 minute noodles). As we’re having lunch in the sun and out of the wind I look down and notice that we are literally sitting on a pile of money! Torn and shredded 5000 and 10 000 TSH notes litter the area. The 10 000 notes have been shredded the finest, while the 5000 notes where torn meticulously but in random sized bits. Further exploration reveals more shredded money, under our cars and further down the pathway we’ve made our lunch hall. The plot thickens. I’d have to guess that there must have been well over 2 000 000 of the things discarded here. So what’s the story? Fake money, someone had to ditch out of site? Drug money? Were ninjas involved? How much does bacon weigh at the equator anyway? These where all valid and pertinent questions. But I fear we’ll never know. I snap pics for forensic purposes.
On our way again. An hour or so later we reach Mbeya and the Toyota garage, drive past the Toyota garage, Annelie asks: “isn’t that the Toyota garage they’re at?”, we turn around and head back to the Toyota garage and find the rest of the gang camping behind the service centre. Greets and hellos all round, Fanie’s Colt has been gutted and various bits of 3 litre engine scattered around the garage. This is the third attempt to re-assemble it, we’re told. Oh, and that timing belt they got was for an Isuzu and they had to take a few links out to make it fit the Colt. Mmmmm. But word has it the car did start and seems to be ok, miraculously.
Long story short, but the original plan was that while we were in Zanzibar they were going to buy food and supplies for the Kariba boat trip. So now we will be swopping roles while they wait on the injured Colt. We get the shopping list and go over the items and also take an opportunity to blow out the ait filters again on a real compressor. We agree on a new plan in that the mobile crew will continue on to the border, push through into Zambia and onward to Lusaka where there is a big shopping complex (we made a call there way back at the beginning of the tour too). Say our goodbyes, draw some dosh from the ATM next door and bail at about 15:20.
The border on the Tanzanian side was very efficient and we clear customs and immigration in no time. Also take an opportunity at the forex to exchange the shillings for Kwachas.
Bye bye Tanzania!
The Zambian side is another matter all together. I’ve not entered Zambia with a vehicle before, last time we arrived was in Zimbabwe and we just walked across. Man, what a mission this is.
Deep breath: Do the immigration bit, go over with the Carnets to a little office at the gate for a signature (??, she doesn’t even look at the stuff), back to another office where a very kind lady explains everything we need to do, to another office to pay “carbon tax” of 150 000 Kwachas per vehicle (that’s about R300, or say £25), we then realise we already have papers for Carbon tax that only expires on the 31st of December, go to get refund, nada, have to speak to big chief, speak to big chief who is HUGE and has a voice like James Earl Jones (“this...is CNN), I tell him so and suggest he goes into commercials, he laughs but we still need to pay the carbon tax, since we left the country, and it doesn’t matter that we’ll be in the country a grand total of 4 days, back outside to pay a road tax or some shit, back past the gate and the aggressive guys “guarding” our vehicles (even though the woman are sitting INSIDE the cars), find a little building on the other side of the border to pay a “council levy” of another 15 000 Kwachas (for the honour of driving through the rat hole town on the other side of the fence), back to the cars and almost out, but not before aggressive “guards” want payment for their services, start to drive and I’m stopped by a “traffic control” person who now wants to find me for driving “without his permission” and “for not wearing a seatbelt” when all I was doing is moving out of the way for Mattie, orders me to park the vehicle and starts writing me a ticket, I apologise through gritted teeth because I would really, really enjoy punching this fucknut through the skull right now, lots of trucks make chaos and a soldier with a large rifle orders me to move, the “traffic dickwad” complains that I violated some law or whatever, the soldier laughs, calms him down and orders me to move (guy with rifle ALWAYS supersedes meat-bag with attitude problem) and we’re off.
Breath out...
Good thing I drew too much money at the ATM in Tanzania, because I was now cleared out of Kwachas! A short while later we’re pulled over by a military check point and asked to [produce our carbon tax and “papers”. We do so, and are free to go. Not sure if he even looked at it, but again, big gun... so.
We adjust all our clocks for Zambian time, an hour later. Past the checkpoint we make a quick stop just to grab a quick bite (left over bread from last night, damn I’m good!) and have a drink to clear the dust and garbage from our throats. I’m really getting tired of border crossings, I was standing in the line for the carbon tax and a BIG louse was walking on the little paper I was holding. Like, the biggest louse I’ve ever seen. Man...
We aim for the Kings Highway camp and arrive there at 19:00. Not really a camp site but the Afrikaans speaking girl that manages it reckons we can camp anyway. They have some sort of training facility here too (very common for these campsites, it would seem). I later found out Tania is also a pre-school teacher and that she and another woman teach the local kids.
There is a very nice kitchen area here but it’s quite late and dark already. We’re still stretching our food so tonight I’m making my world famous Chilli Con Carne, with the small packet of frozen solid mince. I still have all the ingredients to make something work and damn, I have to say, it’s the best con carne I’ve ever made! Annelie even says so, and she is famously critical of it if it’s too hot or soggy or whatever. This batch was perfect and we eat like Kings and Queens (see what I did there?). For desert I break out the left over chocolate fudge brownies I made for the Mara, slice them good like, cover in crushed cashews and Amarula. Yum!
After clearing up and packing away everybody tucks in, I spend a few hours chatting with Tania about the camp and what they do here. They farm with lots of vegetables, goats (she has 7, 3 are pregnant) and they’re looking into making bio fuels. The run a school on site for the village and they help out with various village affairs (plenty!). She’s had malaria about 7 times and wrestled with an amoeba of her own. Some of the little kids, no more than 4 years old have had malaria 15 times! Hectic. So it was cool to get a little inside track on life out here, as well as the fire ants, black mambas and other critters they have to contend with.
Head off to bed at 01:00 in the morning and tuck in.
Highlights: Simple one, really: damn good food!
[G & A], out
Not very good at pursuing redemption
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