The Swahili coast has been magnetic as we work our way up the coast line one island at a time.  We started in Mafia Island and fell in love with island life, the people are a little more relaxed and less likely to try and sell you a safari package.  Our initial draw to Mafia was the prospect of fulfilling  Ryan’s long time obsession with whale sharks.  So the story goes Gramma Sullivan had only two truly good books at her house one was Mike Mulligan and the Steamshovel and the other was Sharks, Sharks, Sharks.  The obsession started early with these plankton eating fish that are the size of whales.  When we heard it might be our luck that these beautiful animals were in our neck of the woods so B-line for the small undisturbed island of Mafia.  Flying as first mate in our twelve seater from Dar es Salam Ryan started his search from 5500ft but it wasn’t until we were inches away swimming next to these massive fish that the obsession became a reality.  Really where do you go from here??

  …Zanzibar of course.  Our initial thought was that the more popular island, Unguja would be too touristy and may have lost its local charm.  But we quick found that if you hide away in the narrow streets of Zanzibar town (Stonetown) long enough you can’t escape into the charm of this multi-cultural neighborhood.  The Swahili coast has an interesting mix of cultures brought from Africa, Arabia and India and nowhere is that more apparent than the faces, architecture, food, and attire of Stonetown.  After absorbing some of Stonetown’s charisma we headed to the islands true draw- its beaches.  The sand is so fine it squeaks beneath your toes.  At high or low tide you’ve got long spans which extend into crystal waters that you feel you could float in for days.  The only ocean we know back home has always been chilling to the bone, this is more like bath water, sometimes even boiling from the mid-day sun.

  We thought we must be on to something with this island hopping so why end a good thing?  Jumping on the first night ferry north we landed in Pemba at sunrise.  Pemba is the answer to anyone’s off-the-beaten-path island hopping dream- sign us up.  We instantly felt a part of the small community of Mkwoani, hanging out in the shade of the market and joining a local basketball team for an afternoon game.  We found our second home on the island after a random ride with new Italian friends up to the northern part of the island.  After going by a makeshift sign on our way back from the beach we made a quick decision to let them carry on without us, while we pitched a tent on the shores of Verani Beach a.k.a. paradise…think breezy nights, evening swims and fresh grilled fish…it all made us question why we would ever leave.

(Over to RyBoy)

Alas… our desire for progress, as it often does, pulled us away.  What would we do with our last couple of weeks in Africa? TBD, but we knew the first step would be to get back to the mainland.  How to do this was the big question.  Backtrack to Unguja, Dar then up the coast to Kenya?  If you know us you may know that we hate hate hate backtracking, so that option was out almost immediately.  There were two other options - passenger ferry to Tanga Tanzania, then a bus north to the Kenyan boarder OR - talk to local dhow captains headed to southern Kenya and hitch a ride.  The dhow is a traditional sailing vessel long used to move cargo around the Indian Ocean… it is the maritime symbol of the Swahili Coast…nowadays dhows come in various shapes, sizes and levels of safety.  Can’t you see it now?  Annie and I with eye patches fixed, smelling of cloves, cinnamon and ginger.. saying things like “darrrr”, “land ho!” and “matey!”,  pulling fish from the sea and gnawing them raw, having the other grisly Tanzanian sailors telling us jokes in Swahili and laughing heartily and slapping each other joyously as we understand every word… well stop picturing that immediately, the actual scene is quite different (but no less of a tale).…. Annie and I sitting atop scrap metal, working to keep all exposed skin out of the sun, trying to drink enough water to stay hydrated, yet holding in pee as the stern shows the only prospect of a toilet, not understanding any conversation although something must‘ve been funny, ‘cause there was plenty of laughin‘, and feeling bad about eating anything we had picked up at the market that morning because no one else seemed to have any food (there wasn’t enough to share among everyone)… and that was the happs.. for SEVEN hours.  But did I mention that we saved $20!  Score!

Truth be told the trip was ACE (thanks for that Sir Alex) - blue water, dolphins, flying fish, lots of smiles if not good conversation from our mates - and an unforgettable trip which would have been uneventful comfortable and boring otherwise.  That’s how you make memories… proactively.

With a week left before our flight out of Nairobi we sat in Mombasa contemplating our next and final move in Africa ….a few more days with animals, some hiking in Kenya, back to city life in Nairobbery or finish what we started on the Swahili Coast? We both decided to finish with a little more island time… off to Lamu.  Lamu is a group of islands on the northern coast of Kenya, kilometers away from Somalia.

(back to AO)

We finished our Swahili tour in Lamu, taking in as many white sand beaches, turquoise waters and friendly mixed culture faces as we could in a week.  It was great to be in one place for a week and get into the maze of narrow streets at a different level.  On our way out of town we ran into a couple we had meet two months earlier on our flight into Nairobi, a interesting cross of paths, they were also leaving Lamu but they had been there SINCE they left Nairobi.  They had rented a house and enjoyed the relaxation of staying put, getting to know a place and being able to cook their own food.  In that same period of time we had climbed Kilimanjaro, seen the big 5, swam with whale sharks, visited over 5 different islands, traveled by bus, boat, plane, land cruiser and donkey, hiked an active volcano, shook hands with Masaai, and smoked with the Hadzabe… wheeewf… I think we both realized that although we had an amazing time in Africa, perhaps it was time to slow things down a bit.  Goooooood luck with that!

guest blogger: Christie Sumner

After our day into, and night overlooking Ngorongoro Crater, we loaded up the “cruiser” with tents, mattresses, pots and pans, and our packs, etc and headed to our next adventure, walking and camping with Good Earth across the Ngorongoro highlands. After setting up camp in a small village of Nanokanoka, meeting our cook, Othman (my personal favorite of all personnel), we were introduced to “our” ranger, Adrian, who took us for a warm-up hike to see Olmoti crater, lake and waterfall. Once he cocked his rifle, we understood we were still in wild territory. On foot, we encountered our first interested village kids, who tag along, but who want money or any other thing we might unload upon them, particularly if we want to take their picture. A few made the entire few hour trek with us and we “got to know” them a bit. First night camping, we settled in, found the outhouse with the hole in it, organized gear, and had a great dinner. Another group arrived and set up as well, and enjoyed a late night (!) in their cook tent. In the morning, after fruit, eggs, toast and peanut butter, we packed up and headed out with Adrian across meadows and through Massai villages, following cattle tracks and, for many hours in the sun, down and across the Embulbul Depression. We came upon a resting group of teenagers from a local village, on their way to Nanokanoka. Several were dressed in the Massai red check wraps, one in modern dress and leather jacket but wrapped in his red check and one just modern dress. Most had cell phones. The two were home on break from secondary school in Arusha. After much discussion regarding their studies, Ryan exchanged email addresses and we all pushed off in our respective directions. We could see our yellow tents set up and six hours later we arrive at a widely spread Massai village, where some children walk up to 12 kilometers to school, carrying a milk-filled calabash or a plastic jug of water. A recess “football” game incorporating most of the 600 students was in full swing when we arrived. Ryan jumped right in and ended up as the spire in the middle of a screaming group of brown heads. Annie got her turn as she lay on the ground in a circle of children showing her their “pretty healthy” teeth! Ryan walked partway with the excited kids after school. As we were in the highlands, it was cool at night, so out came the hats and extra layers. Othman figured out that “Mama” likes her tea at 4pm, so that became the norm, along with popcorn. More great meals followed. Next morning, after a quick stop at the primary school (we hadn’t planned on bringing a monetary donation, and “Mama’s” bag of goodies was left behind, so we didn’t have “comfortable” access) where 600 kids are taught by 2 teachers, we headed out with Adrian and his gun, once again following the cattle tracks over hill and dale, beautiful enormous landscape, to our next campsite. Annie, Ryan and Adrian hiked down to Embakaai Crater Lake. We traveled over dirt road the next day to Naiyobi village. On this trek, we passed several groups of girls/women, who wanted to sell us their crafts. We also happened upon Freddy, about 8 years old, in tattered brown. He was very shy, but turned back and followed us about 3 kilometers to the village. Ryan was able to break him out a bit. As we reached the village, another boy joined us and his name was also Freddy. As a matter of fact, by the time we got to our tents, we’d met about five Freddys. Freddy I hung around that afternoon, and came back in the morning, the only thing changed was the order of his sweater/t-shirt layering. We finally “had” him when we started sharing our pictures and letting the kids take pictures with our cameras. That was, in the end, the way we came to an understanding with the Massai people, by sharing our time: through photography, play, sharing our crafts (knitting) and talents (singing, whistling, drumming). We finally saw them smile, laugh and embrace us.

The final six hour push to Lake Natron involved 3 donkeys piled with our packs and camping gear, 3 Massai men, Othman and us in a caravan through cattle, sheep and goat herds, down from the ash-strewn (from 2007 eruption of Lengai volcano) highlands, where we met our new guide/driver, Joseph, and sorted out the men and donkeys (all Massai and donkeys were turned back for another six hour trek home!).

At this point, “Mama” considered her options: to climb Lengai or not. Heck, we had about six hours to rest before starting up at midnight! There was a full moon. It was billed as a “strenuous” hike, but with the “possibility” of an amazing sunrise! Hmmm. When Elie taps on your tent at 11pm, you really should have made a decision; but barring that, you’re awake, so you might as well go. With full moon, clear night, we rarely needed our headlamps at all. The gradual uphill climb on fairly hard surface was a real fooler for things to come, as the surface became ash/pumice and the grade went quickly from gradual to steep, then steeper. It was pretty much like climbing a sand dune for 4 hours, polle polle (slowly, slowly). We fell into a line with Ryan stamping up sideways, crossing over to make “steps” for Annie and “Mama.” And, “Mama” muttering from time to time: “How are we going to get down?” “Why are we doing this?” After Elie announced that he often takes Americans, and that Chicagoans make it to the top, but San Franciscans usually turn around half-way, well, the challenge was laid down for Vermonters, so the muttering continued, “We are really being stubborn!” At some point, we realized the moon was no longer with us, and, then, about 45 minutes from the top we heard the rain. When it arrived we hunkered down under Elie’s poncho for about 10 minutes, but I guess he knew the trip was over and it was time to get off the volcano as quickly as possible. How are we going to get down? Run! We could hear the rushing water filling the gullies on each side of us (“This is something you don’t tell your mother!”). Headlamps and glasses were of little use in the clouds, fog and rain. Just stay close and follow the person ahead. Sopping wet, back in the cruiser, we still had to cross now-swollen riverbeds. The black water surged as the hikers crashed for about an hour, waiting for a break. Having just heard a story of a guide being swept away in his vehicle and drowning, did not evoke confidence. But, we made it across and back to camp and one of Othman’s great breakfasts. Finding something dry to put on was a challenge, but we did, loaded the cruiser and headed toward our next adventure at Lake Eyasi.

Guest Blogger: Christie "Mama" Sumner

CIA-type investigation at kilimanjaro airport comes up empty as mama-traveller goes undercover to arusha with the u.n. envoy.  all were reunited in a tearful, ecstatic gathering, in anticipation of "things to come."  first, striking out in 4-wheel drive to tarangire to find the big game. find it we did: elephants, baboons, giraffes, zebras, thomson gazelles, smaller types, and to amazement of our guide, aaron, a lion in a tree, not generally found in tarangire. next, off to serengeti, which gave us more of the above, and many lions, both male and female, and some very sickly year old cubs, giving us a first look at natural survival.  we saw our first leapord and then a very grisly stop at three cheetahs on a wildebeest kill (another first for our guide, the wildebeest kill by cheetahs) which we watched for an hour, as they took turns feasting and resting, as the scavenger storks, vultures, etc were at bay at some distance, waiting their turn with the 'beest! pictures and video to follow. by now, we are totally engrossed in the safari experience, appreciating the experience of our guide, if not his gregariousness despite ryan's best efforts.  the landscape is different from any. the animals drawing our attention on a fairly regular basis. okay, so what about this wildebeest? look it up online, as a matter of fact the wildebeest migration should show up on youtube, and we came up right in the middle of it as we crested a hill on our way to ndutu, southern serengeti. think buffalo herds in early america.  we are utterly entranced.  the wildebeest, along with zebra, migrate in a clockwise pattern following the feed as the rainy season circles the serengeti.  we continue through the herd where we can go off road and they are all around us, making their way across the rivers.  our first "tented camp" is right "out of africa."  we have two nights there, with game drives during the day.  the second day, we are treated to another exciting event.  we have observed a couple of very lazy male lions in the dry riverbed and soon realize there are a couple of females in the grass, not far away.  we go back and forth, watching each group, when the males struggle forth and saunter toward the females who also have a kill of some sort. as the males come closer at one point about 2 feet away, one of the females strikes out at them.  they are easily cowed, and back off, at which point the female struts out her three 3-week old cubs directly in our view, about 10 feet from the jeep.  our next area is ngorongoro crater, one of the largest volcanic craters in the world and home to many animals, some of which are a first for us: flamingos and black rhinos. we get up close and personal with annie's favorites, the elephants, as well as a pool of "laughing" hippos.  our accommodation for the night is on the crater rim with a view, a long view, of the whole panorama. after 7 days of riding and game viewing from our 4-wheel, it is time to stretch out and start the walking and camping portion of this 14-day journey.