The main road from Dar es Salaam to the Zambian border passes through about 60km of Mikumi National Park, home to buffalo, wildebeest, lion, zebra, elephants and more. So, it offers a free game drive to anyone on the road, clearly something Mrs Scrooge couldn't resist for long. When I heard that Jan, another volunteer from Dodoma, was travelling to a language course in Iringa I asked if I could tag along as far as Mikumi village. We got the bus at 6 o'clock on Saturday morning and around midday we chugged into Morogoro with the motor sounding far from well. We squatted outside the bus compound in the hot sun while they dismantled and reassembled the engine and then continued westwards. We had good seats at the front and once through the park entrance our heads were swivelling this way and that, cameras at the ready. After 10 minutes or so I spotted a modest buck under a tree and after that it was giraffe, buffalo, impala, zebra, more impala, all the way to the park exit. Well chuffed with our haul we got the bus to drop us at the Tan-Swiss Motel where I hoped we might get a discount from the Swiss half of the owners, on the grounds that Jan is also Swiss. No discount needed because the place was very reasonable and also very pleasant, if slightly surreal with the Matterhorn looming up behind you in the dining room. We briefly considered paying $170 for a half day game drive but since the motel had a tethered goat, and rabbits and guinea pigs in a hutch we decided that wouldn't be necessary. We walked the few kilometres into Mikumi village and had our dinner with the tarts and truck drivers in a roadside "grocery". Then came back for a coffee at the motel and Jan was close to tears watching the other guests enjoying rosti and other lovely Swiss stuff.
Next morning we ordered a bajaji (3 wheeler motorbike taxi) which turned up extremely late. It weaved its way through the lorries to the area where the buses stop. Jan was plucked out just before the junction and put on the bus to Iringa.
I waited for the bus the other way, thinking about what animals I might spot this time, and eventually a bus named "Ally's Sports Bus" came round the corner. Judging from the number of people on board the sport in question seemed to be the National Sardines Association of Tanzania, although it could equally have been rugby from the scrum that immediately formed around the door. A helpful company employer locked my bag in the hold so there was nothing for it but to join in. I felt very sorry for the old and frail and mothers with babies as I wrestled them out of my way and squeezed on board, joining the hundreds of other passengers wedged vertically in the central aisle. The lucky bastards sitting in seats didn't even have the decency to stay awake through the National Park. Still, maybe it would have been worse to have heard excited cries of "TEMBO!" and "SIMBA!" while unable to move, with my face stuffed in someone's armpit.
Anyway, I was relieved to get to Morogoro in one (slightly compressed) piece. I celebrated by taking a bodaboda (exciting motorbike taxi) to the Commonwealth War Cemetery which was a really beautiful place, much bigger than the Dodoma one, and yes, there are German graves there.
