Day 3 - Into Africa - Part 2

When it was time to board the flight to Mwanza via Kilimanjaro, I finally uprooted myself from my seat.  I managed to find a washroom to take off my sweater and jacket so I wasn't so hot.

As I walked down the ramp to the tarmac, I got my first taste of African air....hot and windy but not unpleasant - it was downright nice!  But I needed shorts and sandals STAT - which are in my checked bags.  And then my carry-on handle broke.  It will not be making the return trip home - RIP and good riddance!

All kinds of little mobile units around the tarmac and prop planes everywhere!

The last bird for this trip.

There seemed to be a lot of people and vehicles wandering around the tarmac and no one really doing much of anything.  We walked out to the turbo prop and took our assigned seats.  There were about 20 of us.  People near the front, including me, got asked to move to the back for some reason...just sit anywhere...odd....I know they often redistribute for weight allowances but there was no mention of where, just 'to the back.'

I lightly bumped my head while moving seats and the steward seemed very concerned.  Turns out he was just a huge flirt!  He kept asking me if I was texting my boyfriend (I was texting Megan) and he kept saying "But he is so far away and I am here."  Ya right buddy!

I believe this was my first time on a turboprop and I was surprised at how smooth the ride was.  It was quite nice as these planes don't fly as high so you can see more of the scenery.  The pics aren't great but you may be able to get the idea.  

I believe this is Arusha or Moshi.  At the base of Kilimanjaro.   

Colourful patchwork

Mountains.  SNOW!

We touched down in Kilimanjaro (I don't think i saw the mountain.  I was on the wrong side of the airplane) and we disembarked as they were going to refuel.  We loaded back up less than 15min later and added some more passengers.  

Last flight of the trip - thank goodness!

 As a lady behind me loaded in, I noticed she was wearing a wrap that looked suspiciously like one my mom had. It is from a independent designer in British Columbia, Chloe Angus Designs .  OMG! A fellow Canuck!  We exchanged pleasantries and continued the flight in silence.

As we landed in Mwanza,  we unload from plane into a tram.  The B.C. lady, Susan, sits beside me and asks what I'm doing here and such.  So I ask in return.  She is opening a school she has fought to start here.  She then whips out an article written about her and her trials and attack on her LIFE.  Thanks..JUST what a needed!!  We then get off tram to the shittiest building I've ever seen (not since tho) and stand around waiting for baggage (I see MEGAN - YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!).  The trolley rolls up to the hole in the wall -  literally -  and people start grabbing their bags.  I see mine but when I go to grab them I'm told I can't have them.  But...but...but...everyone else did!  They then put them in another hole in the wall and tell me to go to customs. Oh..right...cool...I get that!

Susan was watching my carryon at this time and as I go to get it to go to customs she says 'Don't let them make you pay anything."  Thanks..again....As you are walking around, there are people everywhere touching you asking to help you with your bags.  Go away...

I go to the immigration area and I'm shaking as I try and fill out the form to submit with my passport and visa.  Thankfully that goes smoothly.  Someone guides me to the way I came in and through to the customs area - and I use that term very very loosely.  A table and a guy.  I put my carryon on the table and he asks - anything to declare? and I say no....off you go...

As I walk through, I have no idea where my other bags have gone!  Megan goes off looking and I can see them where they were to begin with!  So confusing...and I think they make it so on purpose!  We finally corral my bags and I'm with someone I know.  I'm a freaking mess!!  Why did I agree to this again? I must be insane!

I surprisingly don't look as terrified as I felt.

Megan has arranged for Mr. Zagalu, a local store owner and taxi driver, to pick me up.  He shook my hand and gave me a hug...ok, I like this guy!  He drives us back into town and I get a taste of the driving situation.  Lord. Have. Mercy.  But more on that later.....I'm currently in complete culture shock.  Megan is trying to tell me 'up here is this', 'down this road is that' - nothing was sinking in.  

We stop at Mr. Zagalu's shop for soda (yes, they say soda here and not pop) and for internet vouchers for my phone.  I can't wait to be back in touch with Canada!

We finally get to the house...it's AWESOME and not at all what I was expecting.  But that's another post....