I battled to get out of Mombasa. Pikipiki (motorcycle taxis) were
picking there way, tuk-tuks were tuk-tukking, taxis (taxiing), cars careering, bicycles (trying), carts being pushed, buses bussing (?), and
me, battling to get my piece of the road.
Another Mombasa beach (the morning of my departure) |
This is such an easy name to remember....... |
Now, the goal was
to find a nice place to stay, far enough south to make decent distance.
I though, ok. Tanga sounds great, let's go there. Must be an awesome
place with a name like that.
TANGA TOWN
I drove in, so far so good, thinking, let's get to the beach, see that, and take it from there.
I
could not find the beach!!! Eventually I drove towards it, on
footpaths, through some low tidal flats and there I came across a
fishing area. Now, fishermen are normally jolly folk. Not this bunch. I
don't know why, but I felt uneasy. So I chat with the oldest man there.
Usually a good strategy as thy have seen it all. He's about 80yrs old I
guess and even speaks a bit of English.
Small talk followed and he
takes me to a table where unfortunately he gets me talking to a crazy
guy. This guy looked like Samuel L Jackson, with an afro, glazed drunk
look in his eye, and a big knife cleaning the smallest fish I had ever
seen (maybe 7cm long?).
After introductions the small talk between
him and the old man was weird. He obviously wanted to get money out of
me somehow and the old man was saying he should b nice. All this was in
Swahili but I knew bad vibes when I saw them. He offered me a boat ride,
to an island and said its 300 US$. Wow, hectic!!! Is he insane? I say
its steep and he says ok, how much do I have.
Tanga fishing beach |
So he eventually wants my cell no. And I say I don't know it. I give him my SA no. He doesn't even have a phone?!? And asks a friend. Now his friend tries calling me but has no airtime. They say I might not come back. In my mind I said, 'damn straight, as soon as I get off the beach I am gone like Donkey Kong.'
I eventually extract myself with many eyes on me. I felt glad to leave. When I drove through the leftover high water I was so happy.
Leaving Tanga's fishing beach |
The view from higher up on the Tanga hillside |
Still I felt uneasy, so I decided to make tracks for anywhere else, wow, such a waste.
Tanga to Bagamoyo
I drove and drove, and drove, the sun set, I drove some more, and more, my garmin said there was a camp site at a place called Travelers Lodge so I headed there.
My camp site in Bagamoyo |
Eventually I was there. Wow, all rooms booked 65-80 us$, but camping was 12us$. Great.
The place is by the beach but I waited till morning to walk in the beach.
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