It's been an interesting
week.
Dodgy customs officials, friendly local police,
machete wielding gangsters, friendly UNHCR lawyers
and a very tough 600km of dirt road!
I left Kampala on Saturday, heading straight
for the Tanzanian border at Mutukula. Passing
smoothly through the Ugandan side, on the Tanzanian
side I ended up parting with double the going
rate for my Tanzanian visa. The official responsible
was a jovial, well rounded fellow who did give
me a small map of Bukoba town in exchange for
the extra 30US, which he received. So, who's complaining?
Arriving in Bukoba for the night, a medium sized
town on the western shore of Lake Victoria, I
immediately sought out the police station to establish
the security situation in the areas I wished to
travel through.
My planned route for the next few days was to
head southwest to the town of Kigoma, which is
on the shores of Lake Tanganyika and not far from
the spot where Stanley met Livingstone met more
than a century ago.
The route runs almost parallel to Burundi, sometimes
not less than 40km away from the border. This
means that there are plenty of Hutu and Tutsi
refugees in the area, displaced by the ongoing
troubles in Burundi.
As a result, the security situation around here
is 'unstable' and I had heard that I may require
police escorts through certain parts.
The police, on hearing my planned route, first
wanted to know why I didn't want to take the 'tarred
tourist route' through eastern Tanzania, then
told me I was mad and finally invited me to dinner.
It turned out that almost all of the 577km from
here to Kigoma was unsafe and required a police
escort.
However, as I was on a motorbike and therefore
very fast (go figure), I would be safe from here
to the next town where the police there would
provide me with an escort.
This was exactly what I was told by the police
at the next town…and the next…and the
next, all the way to Kigoma.
That night it rained solidly all night and in
the morning, I pulled out of Bukoba, trying to
avoid the bigger pools of water. The first 100km
of road was underwater and made for interesting
riding. At times I had to navigate my way through
thick mud around trucks jack-knifed alongside
the road or firmly stuck in the goo.
The road finally dried out, but it was still full
of ruts and potholes and very dusty. Due to the
security situation, I was riding fast and concentrating
hard, so by the time I got to my overnight stop
at Kibondo; I was dusty, sore and very tired.
The next day saw the road become worse, but by
early afternoon I had passed Kasulu and had less
than 100km to go to get to my destination. In
Kasulu, the local police had told me that the
road from here to Kigoma was safe, which reassured
and relaxed me.
Ironically, after two days of riding on edge through
bandit country, it was this last stretch of 'safe'
road where I encountered the machete-wielding
maniac.
I had stopped on the side of the road for a short
break when two men on a bicycle coasted towards
me. As they drew opposite the passenger jumped
off and ran at me, brandishing a rather nasty
looking machete.
Fortunately I was able to get on my bike and start
the engine quickly, which seemed to convince my
would be attacker that he was wasting his time
and I was able to ride safely away.
This incident served to remind me that I was travelling
alone and vulnerable to opportunist thieves and
muggers.
As a result, I have decided to catch the ferry
along Lake Tanganyika to Zambia, instead of following
the track, which runs parallel to it.
The ferry leaves this afternoon and takes 40
hours to get to the port of Mpulungu in Zambia.
From there, I'll be putting my head down and heading
straight for Livingstone.
Finally, a very big thank you to Janet Choma,
who works for the UNHCR and has loaned me 100US,
after I miscalculated my funds.
It's so encouraging to meet people like this in
the world; she volunteered to loan me the money
after having known me for less than five minutes.
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