Karyn arrived one week before we were to leave to climb Kilimanjaro. The plan was for her to get her business done in Musoma before we left. She finished her solar cooker workshop on Friday afternoon and we started packing our stuff for the climb. The power went out so we did that the next morning instead, before our bus at one. I just threw all the warm clothes and hiking boots that I had brought for the climb into the black, waterproof duffel bag (my mom bought two just for Kili).
So we go to the bus station/market in the center of Musoma in time to wait for the bus. Karyn took pictures and looked for some nice fabric to buy and we waited. The bus came, a large red bus with spider webs over the sides and we loaded up the bags and got on relatively painlessly (although one man that helped us with our bags demanded to get paid for it, threatening (I think) to take them out and leave them on the ground otherwise… I told him we hadn’t asked for help and I would have argued for longer if I could speak better Swahili and it wasn’t only 3000/=, less than three USD)
At any rate, we were on our way on another long bus ride, through Kenya and back into Tanzania to Moshi. This bus was somewhat more comfortable, with two seats on either side of the aisle rather than the 2+3 configuration of the other. We also had some more legroom and my knees weren’t constantly hitting the seat in front of me. And the window next to me opens. We drive North through Tanzania and the land gets greener. The 20 hour bus ride was broken up by a stop for customs at the Kenyan border, filling out a piece of paper for each country, one for leaving one for entering and buying a transit visa. Food stop in Nairobi, arriving at midnight, not able to see much of the city in the darkness. Back into Tanzania, this one is a much more high-tech border control point, complete with passport scanners and webcams. It is getting cold on the bus – the windows don’t really close – the luggage compartment is open and someone is doing something in there so my mom sneaks in there, armed with her solar flashlight keychain, to get a jacket out of my bag under the bus. The opposite of last bus ride’s sweltering heat even through the night, this time we each put on a jacket.
My time in Kenya was quite short – the sun was up only for the first couple of hours after we entered Kenya at around four. From what I saw, it is very similar to Tanzania, at least in the Rural areas. It is very green this time of year, like the northern-most part of TZ but unlike most of Tanzania that has been suffering a drought. Maybe it is only this part of Kenya as well. Since it was dark by the time I got to any big city, from what I saw out the window, I could have still been in Tanzania. Corrugated metal or grass roofs, little wooden stands selling fruits and vegetables. Shops are painted with the colors and logos of cellphone carriers or other random companies. I still don’t know exactly how the companies get the shop owners to agree to that.
We got to Moshi, a large, touristy town at the base of Kilimanjaro at 10 on Saturday morning, ending the second and hopefully last 20-hour bus ride of my life. We check into the hotel. It’s a nice place provided by the Kili climb company and there are wazungu all over the place. And we can see Kilimanjaro. The guide for the climb comes and he tells us the whole schedule for the climb, which would take the next week. We get one last night in a proper bed before heading out the next morning.
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