Today was promised to be a marathon. The drive out to Dar-es-Salaam is apparently usually something of a nightmare. It's not all that far, just 250 miles, but things grind to a halt at the outskirts of Dar, and it typically takes 4 hours to get across to the beachside campsite.
Breakfast was at 0500. We started away at 0600, and it was evident all through the day's schedule that there was to be no hanging about at the comfort stops. Ken did not even have time for his regulation coffee. Time was constantly of the essence. Halt, inspect the plumbing, grab a Coke or similar from the kiosk and off again. Lunch was taken on the fly, we having put something together after breakfast at The Elephant Motel in Same.
Dar was indeed chaotic, as regards traffic, on arrival, but not quite as appalling as feared. The 12-hour day had been whittled down to a mere eleven. A pair of Sennheisers and much Staple Singers, Eagles, Carole King & Northern Soul had made the day almost fly by.
Tents went up within yards of the beach fence, but then had to be humped to a new setting just as we were sat at the dinner table waiting to be served. Meals had to be taken back to the kitchen because the Gringo diners were stumbling through the darkness, two to an already erected tent. I have had better hors d'oeuvres.
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