#4 Journey Through Africa: Driving
I despise organized tours. I truly do. That being said, I do not want to insinuate that the tour I’m on or the company I’m traveling with is bad. Far from it; I am quite impressed by it for what it is. Nevertheless I still maintain that I despise organized tours. Since we’ve left Zanzibar in Tanzania we have traveled through four countries. Yet what have I seen of those countries? Zip, nada, zero, nothing with the exception of the inside of our truck. I knew this signing up for this trip yet somehow deluded myself that it might be something different. No point in deluding oneself though.
However one might counter this that this should have been expected and is unavoidable. Covering over 4000km in Africa in just under 40 days results in most of the time being spent on the road. That indeed is true and I knew what I was getting myself into. Nevertheless, that doesn’t have to be equated with not seeing the places, cultures and people. Yet ever since leaving Zanzibar we have somehow found ourselves driving merely for driving’s sake.
In Dar es Salam we didn’t even stay in the city, but on it’s outskirts at a campground. We left bright and early and drove for the entire day. True, we did pass some amazing countryside along the way. I’ve never seen that many Baobab trees (well – truthfully speaking I had never seen any Baobab trees before) and the scenery was what you always picture of Africa. However, by nightfall we arrived at yet another wonderful campsite, but once again in the middle of nowhere. There we were treated to a fantastic local dinner cooked and prepared by the European manager. At the campsite three other overland trucks and the staff – that’s it.
The next day takes us to a boarder town where we stop at a gas station once again on the outskirts of the city. There we spend a couple hours grabbing a quick lunch and repairing the truck, then continuing on to the border, crossing in Malawi and heading to yet another gated and fenced campground. No other living sole in sight – just us.
Our first full day in Malawi takes us past a local craft market. This highlight of Malawi (since they’re famous for their woodcarvings) is essentially a bunch of stalls along the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere. After some pointless bartering we continue on to Kande Beach on the shores of the fantastic Lake Malawi. This is probably the only thing we really see of Malawi and the only interaction we get with the locals. We dare to leave the gates of our secured campground and get escorted by the locals on a village tour where we’re finally able to see a bit of what life is really like in these countries (outside of the completely mzungu campgrounds and the truck life).
That night we have a full out bash making fun of the clothing that is available in their local markets by dressing ourselves up in the most outrageous, gaudy things that we could find. But all that’s ok, because we’re supporting their local economy – we’re buying the things that no one else wants. Hung over the next morning we hit the road again making our way all the way down to the capital city of Malawi and are graciously given two hours to take care of things in it before heading out to yet another isolated campsite.
The two hours of freedom are however, not spent exploring the local charms of the city, the colourful streets, or mingling with the locals. Instead we’re dropped off right in the midst of a huge western shopping complex whose prices are so outrageous that only white people dare to shop there. We all sprint to the incredibly slow internet café and then stampede into the shopping centers to purchase our life necessities comprising of coke, beer and chips. Then back onto the truck and off to our gated security where we cook ourselves dinner, drink beers and go to sleep in our tents.
And that’s it for Malawi, acclaimed as one of the most beautiful countries of Africa and filled with the friendliest people you’ll ever meet. Well, that’s if you meet them ‘cause it’s hard to judge how friendly people are based on the waves that they give you as your truck quickly zooms down the road.
From Malawi on to Zambia. We drive from Lilongwe to the boarder, get past all the formalities and quickly head to our next campground. A completely uneventful day whose highlight was the border crossing that took slightly longer than usual. Next morning starts with a frenzy, everyone rushing to be on the road by 6am only to eat breakfast on the truck, lunch on the side of the truck and hurry to Lusaka so that we can watch the World Cup quarterfinals. I hope by now you realize that when I say Lusaka, I actually mean a campground about 20 km outside of the city. But that’s not important right? All that matters is that there is a TV there and that we made it in time to see the 5pm kick-off of the England v. Portugal game. Beers, dinner, sleep and then it’s time to board the truck again.
Quick stop in Lusaka, or rather a shopping center in its suburbs where we all jostle for positions in the Subway queue and then hurry off to the Shoprite to stock up on alcohol because the next couple campgrounds will not be serving any. From there we’re in a hurry because it’s a long drive ahead of us. We need to get past the boarder formalities since for now that’s all we get to see of Zambia. It’s time to head to Zimbabwe. We arrive at camp past dark – once again just us. Outside some town, but it doesn’t really matter which town since we won’t get to see it.
Please forgive me the oozing irony and sarcasm of this posting. It’s just that a week of sitting on a truck surrounded by 28 other mzungus does not exactly equate to seeing/travelling/exploring Africa – at least not in my limited vocabulary. I guess I should have adjusted my definitions before boarding the truck. Like I said, the group of people I’m traveling with are great. The guide, Tans is pretty good herself. The truck is pretty comfortable and everything is running quite smoothly (with a few changes to itinerary and some mechanical problems – but this is Africa and it’s to be expected). However, this is not my kind of traveling.
Julita and I have very contrasting opinions. She for example really didn’t like Cuba because it was dirty, in ruins and just of no appeal to her. I myself have not been to Cuba, but I have been to places similar to it and have loved them. Haiti is one such example. You will never get greater poverty than in Haiti. It is not the cleanliness of a place, the aesthetic appeal of a given location that is of significance. To me it is the people, the atmosphere, the culture, the tradition. I might not agree with certain cultural practices, I might not belief in certain religious dogma or want to live in certain places. But I love to see them, to be immersed in them and to experience them. To interact with the locals, to eat their food, to get lost in their streets – that to me is traveling and that to me is seeing these countries. What we’re doing on this truck is driving from point A to point B and nothing more. Our destinations include the Serengeti, Zanzibar, Lake Malawi, Antelope Park, Victoria Falls and Okavango Delta – that’s it. Nothing in between. Everything else is to be avoided and that is what I despise.
I want to mingle. I want to eat local food. I want to sit on the corner of a street and watch the people walk by. I want to have to sidestep the piles of dirt that litter some of the back alleys as I try to make my way through the city streets while loosing myself in their mazes. I want to ask the locals for directions. I want to barter with them for my own things and be ripped off as I please rather than as directed and instructed by the guide. I want to see, live and be part of their culture. But instead I’m hoarded in a mzungu truck through a stunningly beautiful continent seeing it all pass by in front of my eyes and not being able to stop and soak it all in.
Next time! I’ll come back. I’ll do it the right way. Overlanding is just not for me. Organized tours are not my cup of tea. Next time round if I’m overlanding it, it will be on a bicycle if anything.
I’m sorry – had to vent. Let the frustration out. Nothing more to do when you’re still stuck on the truck driving... driving... driving... driving... and driving.
However one might counter this that this should have been expected and is unavoidable. Covering over 4000km in Africa in just under 40 days results in most of the time being spent on the road. That indeed is true and I knew what I was getting myself into. Nevertheless, that doesn’t have to be equated with not seeing the places, cultures and people. Yet ever since leaving Zanzibar we have somehow found ourselves driving merely for driving’s sake.
In Dar es Salam we didn’t even stay in the city, but on it’s outskirts at a campground. We left bright and early and drove for the entire day. True, we did pass some amazing countryside along the way. I’ve never seen that many Baobab trees (well – truthfully speaking I had never seen any Baobab trees before) and the scenery was what you always picture of Africa. However, by nightfall we arrived at yet another wonderful campsite, but once again in the middle of nowhere. There we were treated to a fantastic local dinner cooked and prepared by the European manager. At the campsite three other overland trucks and the staff – that’s it.
The next day takes us to a boarder town where we stop at a gas station once again on the outskirts of the city. There we spend a couple hours grabbing a quick lunch and repairing the truck, then continuing on to the border, crossing in Malawi and heading to yet another gated and fenced campground. No other living sole in sight – just us.
Our first full day in Malawi takes us past a local craft market. This highlight of Malawi (since they’re famous for their woodcarvings) is essentially a bunch of stalls along the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere. After some pointless bartering we continue on to Kande Beach on the shores of the fantastic Lake Malawi. This is probably the only thing we really see of Malawi and the only interaction we get with the locals. We dare to leave the gates of our secured campground and get escorted by the locals on a village tour where we’re finally able to see a bit of what life is really like in these countries (outside of the completely mzungu campgrounds and the truck life).
That night we have a full out bash making fun of the clothing that is available in their local markets by dressing ourselves up in the most outrageous, gaudy things that we could find. But all that’s ok, because we’re supporting their local economy – we’re buying the things that no one else wants. Hung over the next morning we hit the road again making our way all the way down to the capital city of Malawi and are graciously given two hours to take care of things in it before heading out to yet another isolated campsite.
The two hours of freedom are however, not spent exploring the local charms of the city, the colourful streets, or mingling with the locals. Instead we’re dropped off right in the midst of a huge western shopping complex whose prices are so outrageous that only white people dare to shop there. We all sprint to the incredibly slow internet café and then stampede into the shopping centers to purchase our life necessities comprising of coke, beer and chips. Then back onto the truck and off to our gated security where we cook ourselves dinner, drink beers and go to sleep in our tents.
And that’s it for Malawi, acclaimed as one of the most beautiful countries of Africa and filled with the friendliest people you’ll ever meet. Well, that’s if you meet them ‘cause it’s hard to judge how friendly people are based on the waves that they give you as your truck quickly zooms down the road.
From Malawi on to Zambia. We drive from Lilongwe to the boarder, get past all the formalities and quickly head to our next campground. A completely uneventful day whose highlight was the border crossing that took slightly longer than usual. Next morning starts with a frenzy, everyone rushing to be on the road by 6am only to eat breakfast on the truck, lunch on the side of the truck and hurry to Lusaka so that we can watch the World Cup quarterfinals. I hope by now you realize that when I say Lusaka, I actually mean a campground about 20 km outside of the city. But that’s not important right? All that matters is that there is a TV there and that we made it in time to see the 5pm kick-off of the England v. Portugal game. Beers, dinner, sleep and then it’s time to board the truck again.
Quick stop in Lusaka, or rather a shopping center in its suburbs where we all jostle for positions in the Subway queue and then hurry off to the Shoprite to stock up on alcohol because the next couple campgrounds will not be serving any. From there we’re in a hurry because it’s a long drive ahead of us. We need to get past the boarder formalities since for now that’s all we get to see of Zambia. It’s time to head to Zimbabwe. We arrive at camp past dark – once again just us. Outside some town, but it doesn’t really matter which town since we won’t get to see it.
Please forgive me the oozing irony and sarcasm of this posting. It’s just that a week of sitting on a truck surrounded by 28 other mzungus does not exactly equate to seeing/travelling/exploring Africa – at least not in my limited vocabulary. I guess I should have adjusted my definitions before boarding the truck. Like I said, the group of people I’m traveling with are great. The guide, Tans is pretty good herself. The truck is pretty comfortable and everything is running quite smoothly (with a few changes to itinerary and some mechanical problems – but this is Africa and it’s to be expected). However, this is not my kind of traveling.
Julita and I have very contrasting opinions. She for example really didn’t like Cuba because it was dirty, in ruins and just of no appeal to her. I myself have not been to Cuba, but I have been to places similar to it and have loved them. Haiti is one such example. You will never get greater poverty than in Haiti. It is not the cleanliness of a place, the aesthetic appeal of a given location that is of significance. To me it is the people, the atmosphere, the culture, the tradition. I might not agree with certain cultural practices, I might not belief in certain religious dogma or want to live in certain places. But I love to see them, to be immersed in them and to experience them. To interact with the locals, to eat their food, to get lost in their streets – that to me is traveling and that to me is seeing these countries. What we’re doing on this truck is driving from point A to point B and nothing more. Our destinations include the Serengeti, Zanzibar, Lake Malawi, Antelope Park, Victoria Falls and Okavango Delta – that’s it. Nothing in between. Everything else is to be avoided and that is what I despise.
I want to mingle. I want to eat local food. I want to sit on the corner of a street and watch the people walk by. I want to have to sidestep the piles of dirt that litter some of the back alleys as I try to make my way through the city streets while loosing myself in their mazes. I want to ask the locals for directions. I want to barter with them for my own things and be ripped off as I please rather than as directed and instructed by the guide. I want to see, live and be part of their culture. But instead I’m hoarded in a mzungu truck through a stunningly beautiful continent seeing it all pass by in front of my eyes and not being able to stop and soak it all in.
Next time! I’ll come back. I’ll do it the right way. Overlanding is just not for me. Organized tours are not my cup of tea. Next time round if I’m overlanding it, it will be on a bicycle if anything.
I’m sorry – had to vent. Let the frustration out. Nothing more to do when you’re still stuck on the truck driving... driving... driving... driving... and driving.
posted by Kasia Koltunska at 2:44 AM
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