Another leisurely start today (becoming a habit) involved killing a cockroach and eating an egg sandwich. I had a tricky decision to make today. Should I stay with the tarmacked road that would take me the long way to Dar and be busier with traffic but alot easier for Nigel and I. Or, should I follow the coast down on a "road" that will be slightly shorter in distance, alot tougher on Nigel but more adventurous and alot less discovered.
I think you can probably guess what I did. I convinced myself that this would be the last time I would go off road so I would make the most of these few days and after that I will stick to the main roads that are actually displayed on a map. I knew this decision would probably end up in myself getting annoyed and fed up with bumps, holes, rocks and sand but fingers crossed the coastal scenery would provide me with an unforgettable experience.
I set off due south as opposed to heading inland and it took just a few minutes before the beautiful American asphalt turned to orange Tanzanian dust. The route to Pangani wasn't too bad but it was enough for me to wince every time I hit a bump. The new rear wheel was certainly getting its first test and what will probably be its hardest by far!
I had imagined a beautiful coastal route along the sea with the wind blowing in my ever growing locks and the sun gently warming my skin as I free rolled downhill to Pangani. Absolutely no chance!!! I curse my vivid imagination sometimes because the reality was, the road wasn't exactly on the coast, it was slightly inland and the thick forest meant I couldn't see the sea. Due to this forest I couldn't feel the coastal breeze either so instead I got intense humidity on an undulating rocky road. The only sense that I briefly got of the coast was the smell, it was fishy. In the space of an hour my dreams of seaside romance were lost in a fish smelling, sweaty ball of dust.
Don't get me wrong, the landscape was still very interesting. Huge plantations lined the coast and sometimes I didn't see anybody for hours so I enjoyed the peace and pure tranquility that has been nonexistent riding through previous countries. This was the outback of Tanzania and I knew (even though I couldn't see it) that the beauty of the beach was just metres away so my task for the day was to do 60miles and find a beachside haven to camp in.
I arrived in Pangani at lunch time where there was a few hundred metres of tarmac. I had some rice and fish and awaited the "pole pole" ferry (slow slow) The main cargo ferry was broken so there were locals running their fishing boats across the river. I knew if I waited for the slow ferry I would end up waiting a few hours, there were loads of boats but apparently not one of them was the slow one so in the end, I just bit the bullet and payed well over what I should've done for a fast boat.
I knew this was the case when before I could even get Nigel off the other side the man immediately shouted "give me my money!" "Alright, chill out!" I said, I thought Tanzanians were meant to be slow and relaxed. I ended up paying 5000shillings (£2) which the price list on the other side of the river tells me is enough for a tractor and trailer. I didn't care, I was over the river and only had to wait 10minutes. I had intended to find a nice place to rest on the other side of the river but there just didn't seem to be one, so I ended up in true Forrest Gump style, continuing cycling.
The road down the coast is meant to be as the crow flies but I was challenged with lots of equally rocky and sandy "minor roads" with no signposts to help me. As a result of this I ended up taking a route as the crow flies if the crow was drunk and had one wing. I took a wrong turning thanks to some local advice and ended up going back on myself and retaking the route I was already heading in the first place. This provoked a change in emotion that is not uncommon when cycling on tough roads in the middle of nowhere. On days like this I wouldn't say I was bipolar, more like quad or quinpolar. Emotions change with the slight change in atmosphere. Sun goes behind cloud = happy, Nigel hits a run of corrugations = annoyed, see a colourful bird you haven't seen before = enlightened, hit a patch of sand and have to push = fed up, thumbs up from a local = inspired. The list goes on, as I've said before, the hardest task is trying to keep as mentally stable as possible and realising that it will never last forever so either make the most of it or suck it up.
Today was tough and I was heading towards a town called Mkwaja. I had no idea what it was going to be like but it was around the 60mile mark and it was near the coast so I was hoping there would be some sort of seaside resort. I have now accepted that if an English mile is 1.6km, a country mile is probably around 4.8km and an African mile is somewhere between 10 and 40km. I asked a local on a motorbike (most likely to know distances) "How far to Mkwaja?" "3km" he says. Great news! I'm tired, dripping with sweat, my cheeks are starting to burn and my thighs and arse are killing me but I can do 2 miles...
10 miles and over an hour later I arrived in Mkwaja. Absolutely nothing there and not by the sea. I had cycled for just under 7 hours in pursuit of a dream camp site on the beach and all I had was more thick forest. I woke up an old lady that was asleep on a bench outside her shop, "excuse me, camping?" I said in my best Swahili. She nodded, "km?" I said again in perfect Swahili. She told me 1km and pointed down the road. Right, so that's probably another half hour on the bike then I thought. I was spot on, another half an hour and another series of never ending roads later I stumbled across Vagabond Lodge. It was very clean and nice but still in thick forest so I was a little gutted but I really couldn't go any further or care!
I asked how much a room was. $125 a night! "Yeeeeeaaah, do you do camping?" Thankfully they did and it was only 5 dollars a night. I walked through the reception and restaurant area and behind that building I had found it! My oasis! The whole back garden opened up onto the white sandy beach and there wasn't a person in sight! My long awaited haven, and I could camp anywhere along the beach. Later I met an Italian family that were staying there but other than that it was myself, Beirdre and Nigel, a few staff and the Tanzanian crabs that scurried around on the perfect Beach.
There was only one thing for it, the tent could wait, I was going for a swim. I only had about an hour and a half of daylight remaining but I had found a place that was better than my dreams. Pure silence, pure paradise, and I soaked every second of it in. I took the last few minutes of sunset to ponder on life and what I want from it. I'm 27 and I'm not afraid to say that I still don't know what I want to be, but I know I don't want to be unhappy. Here, in that place, I was very happy! I also know that every holiday I take from now on is going to have be pretty decent to top this ride because nothing can compare to the feeling you get when you arrive at a place like Vagabond Lodge after putting in the effort I did. I'm visiting some of the most beautiful places in the world that with my previous job I would never be able to afford.
The menu was "set" and in dollars so I didn't even bother looking at what was being served, I went straight to my bike and cracked out the noodles. I loved getting the stove back out again and it was a dream end to a very hard day. I knew I had an equally as hard day tomorrow but if it had half the ending that today had then it would be worth it.
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