Untold

[anyone know what this is?? volker & i are miffed. spotted in katavi NP. not a wild dog. not a hyena.]
[The rice...ohh the rice]

[this the THE ROAD]

[The only way to pump petrol. By hand. In a Shimmering dress. And this lady was fetched from thr local village while we waited. Turns out it is a very rare skill that only she could perform. Ahhhh Africa.]

The untold tales of people you meet along the way that make a trip...

As Immanuel [a local Tanzanian] and I pulled off our shoes to cross a river we both turned and smiled at one another. We had both just ushered Anse [the 4x4] across a very dodgey bit of 'road'... sliding, hardened mud, crowned with a river.

Shoes off. He curled over shoulders first and slapped at his back for me to hop on. I suddenly realised it was this strong and skinny mans intention to carry me across the river.

That is moment I realised we were in good hands. And that our local guide, who would soon save Anse and ourselves from tumbling down a ravine & help us navigate our way down along small paths to remote Mahale opposite the Congo, was definitaley a good sort.

Immanuel did get us to Mahale. After helping us with his broken english get a local wooden boat to bump us along another three hours to the chimp tracking mountains. The mountains that are so inaccessable that no road leads there. As we headed off he proudly said 'Im car watchman', and a warm and serious smile spread across his sweaty coffee coloured skin.

Four days later [after Volker and I had hiked,tracked wild chimps in Mahale, lived off food rations] we returned to the little village we left the car in Immanuel's hands. We rushed up to us we approached the shoreline. Clambering onto the boat to pry the bags from our hand, and singing "I much love to see you! I much loving to see you!"

Anse was in perfect condition.

"Car good?" he asked

"Yes, perfect, perfect. thankyou so much"

"I sleep on roof every night. Car good"

We navigated our way back on 'roads' that actually werent roads. Photos show the cars width and the human sized path she was roaring over. Those roads although not worse than Mozambiques were so remote that it left my heart somewhere up in my throat. And my stomach seriously ill. We returned Immanuel back to his town, determined to be generous with him. $25, underwear, socks, shoes, shirt - a payment that left him glowering and walking off proudly with his friends that surrounded us. He couldn't thank us enough.

- This is the type of experience one encounters daily. It is the type of thing that doesnt neccessariy make the 'headline' of travel tales when people ask what you've been up to. But for me, it's things like this that make my trip in Africa. It's the heart. It's Africas way of doing things. Love it. Hate it. It's there. Unique. Determined. Alive.

Hope you are well

Love to you

Kirst