To “The Lawns” of Lushoto…

Deon, Steve and Hunter gather around to say "Safari Njema"... Travel safely...

Having decided to make the run to Arusha in two days instead of one, I was able to leave Dar much later than I had previously planned… I waited until the traffic going up the Old Bagamoyo Road had calmed down from Mayhem to chaotic, before venturing out of the gate and into the madness… Just before I left, an American biker arrived to chat with Steve, and having established that he had ridden the Isiolo to Moyale road in Kenya, I thought it would be a good idea to quiz him about conditions there. Hunter turned out to be a real character. His wife worked for the U.N., and for the moment, he was able to spend his time riding his bike out into the bush whenever the whim took him…which it seemed to do a lot of the time!! Ah…the perfect life/wife…

One day when I’m big, I want to be like Hunter!!

Another bus lies in a ditch...

Backtracking is not one of my favourite pastimes, but the only other option was to have ridden up the coast to Bagamoyo, and then taken the 70 odd kms of gravel road to hook up with the A14 at Msata… This would have saved me about 30 kms, but could have resulted in lost time, due to the slower speed I would have to travel on the gravel…

Once I had cleared the city limits, I tore up the A7, to Chilinze and refueled before I pointed the Big Fella northwards for Lushoto… Just before this, I had overtaken a slow moving bus, which was crawling over the new bridge spanning the Ruvu River, and had been waved down by a traffic officer… He politely asked me where I was going and where I had come from, before advising me that the solid white line separating the two lanes of traffic crossing the bridge meant that there was no overtaking allowed… He furthermore advised me that this little transgression would cost me a mere TSh 60 000.00…

I just as politely, answered his questions about my recent travels, and enquired about the health of his family, before advising him that the solid white line he was referring to was so feint on the bridge, that it was practically invisible… I furthermore enquired whether or not the TSh 60 000.00 would be put to good use, by purchasing 5 litres of white paint, to restore the solid white line to its former glory… He replied that the money would not be going towards this particular purchase, and I therefore refused to pay it… We argued the point for a while longer, before settling on TSh 10 000.00 and an apology…

From Chalinze, the road took us past the villages of Lugoba, Mbwewe and Mkata and Kisasi, before arriving in Segera 170 km later. It was at this point that I could have chosen to go to Tanga on the east coast, and from there ride up into Kenya to the port of Mombasa… On the off chance that I might see Kilimanjaro, I decided instead to continue to Korogwe and on to Arusha, and enter Kenya through Namanga Border Post…

Sisal plantations near Karogwe. Very few indigenous trees have been left in the area...

For the last 60 km, I had been riding past massive Sisal Plantations… Tractors and trucks were transporting the leaves towards the road to Tanga, and I assumed that there was a factory down there somewhere. I would have like to see what exactly they were doing with all the Sisal, but that would have to wait, as I was a little unsure of where exactly the village of Lushoto was located, and it was already 2.00pm…

The appropriately named, Downhill Service Station...

I settled for a Fanta, instead of the Vodka and Beer on offer...

I stopped at a Total service station in Korogwe, and noted that along with the various oils and other lubricants being displayed in a glass case on the forecourt, they also displayed Vodka and Beer…!! I know that this sort of marketing would certainly catch on in a big way back in South Africa… The name of the service station also caused me to smile… I figure that once you have filled up your taxi, topped up the oil, and bought yourself a few bottles of beer and vodka for the next section of your journey, things could only go downhill from there….

The road just outside town climbed up over a little pass, and then settled down parallel to the Usambara Mountain Range.  These mountains lay between the road and the Kenyan border, and seemed to have been thrust up from the Maasai Plains that stretched away to the west…

The Usumbarra Mountains lie to the north-west of the road to Arusha...

The narrow road twists and turns as it hugs the slopes of the mountains...

Mombo Village lies far below as we climb up the steep road to Lushoto...

At Mombo, I turned off and had to crane my neck to look up at the mountains on whose steep slopes this little village lay. I tried to get my head-cam working, as Steve had told me that this would be a great road to ride, and that I should not miss it… I fussed with the darn thing for a while, but could not get a proper signal to the PVR, and eventually gave up… I would have to do the one handed filming trick, if I wanted video of this ride… After a few hair-pin bends, we were out of the village and started up the winding road to the village of Soni, 16 kms away…

Water cascades over these falls..., one of many in this beautiful valley...

Another bend in the road, brings you to yet another waterfall...

Steve was right… This was a GREAT road to ride…!!! It climbed up from an elevation of 450 m.a.s.l, to well over 1400 m.a.s.l. … It hugged the mountains as it climbed steadily, higher and higher up a long valley, which led to Soni… I stopped to take some photos of the waterfalls we passed, as well as views down into the narrow cleft which the fast flowing river had cut down the entire valley… In a word, it was SPECTACULAR…!!!

Despite the steepness of the slopes, villagers had still managed to plant their crops, making narrow terraces on which to sow maize, potatoes and tomatoes, as well as tea and coffee… They called down to me from the slopes above, waving wildly at the big Piki-Piki… I kept the bike in 3^rd gear, so that I did not need to change gears… My clutch hand was pointing the video camera ahead of the bike, taking in all the corners and the deep drop-offs on my left… Scary footage!! At about the halfway mark, there is a small army post, and as I rounded the bend, three of the soldiers who must have seen me coming from a long way off, rushed to the side of the road, cheering me past them… At least that’s what it looked like to me… Needless to say, I wasn’t stopping to answer any questions…

Rock outcrops such as these hang above you as you ride below...

Terraces have been hacked into the mountainside in order to plant crops...

At Soni, the road clattered over a narrow bridge before continuing its climb up to Lushoto, another 16 km away… This section was more populated that the first part up to Soni, and I encountered bicycles and pedestrians almost the entire way up… Wherever the road leveled off for a bit, a cluster of huts had been built, and where there are huts, you can bet your life that besides people, there are cattle and goats, sheep and dogs… The one handed riding was becoming a bit tricky, and I gave it up a few kilometers short of the Village… And it was a good thing that I did… On rounding a very sharp bend, I came face to face with a team of woodcutters, who were trying to clear a large Eucalyptus tree that had fallen across the road. Had I still been filming, a number of things might have made contact with the road surface, one of which would have been the cameraman!!

Looks quaint, but smells of mildew and damp...

The village of Lushoto has a large number of guest houses and hotels, catering for the many backpackers and over-landers that make this a stopover on their way to, or from, Dar-es-Salaam… Small groups of young European women wandered up and down the road, (presumably in search of the BBC… see footnote…!) I had been advised to try The Lawns Hotel and Campsite, and I saw the turnoff up ahead, just after I narrowly missed a policeman, who ran into the road to see the bike… A dirt road led me slippery slope, and into the parking area of the hotel… I sat the bike for a while, taking in my surroundings… A large pack of Tanzanian Specials barked a welcome and came over to sniff at my legs, one of them making the mistake of putting its nose onto the right cylinder head… Its yelp of surprise/pain had the rest of the pack scattering for cover, and brought the security guard running from wherever he had been studying the back of his eyelids…

“Karibu, karibu!!” he shouted, taking off his cap…

“Jambo!”  I replied, “Habari?”

“Mzuri, Bwana!”

I got off the bike and looked at the rather run-down buildings around me… Ivy had completely enclosed the walls of the main building, and the place had an air of dilapidation about it… I was taken to see a room, and although it was large and clean, it smelt very strongly of mildew and damp… We haggled about the rate until I had got them down to half of their original asking price, before I began the process of untying my gear from the bike.

The strings of rubber and a mince-like sauce needed help...

I decided to have a quick shower before going on a walkabout, and discovered to my utter amazement, that there was hot water!! And the usual two bars of “Eva – Luxury Soap for normal skin…” I did the usual thing…, opened one, and put the other into my backpack…

Dinner was ordinary to say the least, and I had to cover the spaghetti and mince with a very liberal dollop of tomato sauce, to get some taste out it…

A pair of Rasta rebels arrived and sat outside waiting for me to exit, and then offered to sell some of their “mountain cabbage” to me… They seemed taken aback when I declined their offer, and then invited me to a “reggae session” at a local bar… I explained that I had work to do and would see them tomorrow night… They are probably still waiting…

Being the only soul in the hotel, I made doubly sure that my door was properly locked and then covered the bed with the mosquito net, which was held together with patches of masking tape…

Needless to say, the mosquitoes fed well…

Footnote:  BBC = Big Black….er…Rooster….