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Well, they say that there's a sucker born every minute and m\by no means am I the exceotion to that rule.
I was just charged 25,000 TSH for a taxi from the airport t o my hotel. Daylight robbery!!! For those that are not familiar with
Tanzanian shillings, that's about twelve pounds when the going rate is 8000 TSH which about four quid.
My hotel room is smnall and stuffy (as promised in the guide) but was the only one I could fine at a reasonable price with a spare room. Still, I paid eight pounds for it and it seems reasonably secure. I've even got a ceiling fan!!!
I was rather daring this evening and actually centured out into the city to buy some water with which to brush my teeth and take my antimalarials. I got leered at the entire way... anf then the water cost me 1600 TSH which I suppose isn't too bad.
On arrival at the hotel again, I set off my panic alarm by accident which proved extremely embarassing as I couldn't find the pin to relace it and stop the blasted thing from going off. I've decided that I'm no longer going to carry this alarm with me through the airport. If that thing went off through customs I'd probably just get shot... not a good idea!
I'm staying in the Asian Quarter of t Dar Es Salaam at the 'Holiday Hotel' which is just of Mosque street so you can hear the call to prayer from the muezzins of at least three mosques.
The only other thing you can hear is the wind and the busy streets down below (I'm on the second floor) and the effect i quite beautiful.
Tanzania doesn't look very different when you step off the plane. However, when I got into my ridiculously overpriced tazi things changed completely. On the dual carriage way to town, thousands of people are busying themselves on either side and, quite often, in the middle of said road.
There are apple vendors, nut vendors a nd window washers. there are the Daladalas (minibuses) with green stripes and the little swastikas on the back ( a symbol of good luck and fortune in Buddhism and Sikhism) There are beggars and bicycles loaded up with coal and wood. There are women with baskets on their heads, but more often than not, plastic wash basins. There are barefooted boys pushing carts with boxes on along the road, narrowly missing the white taxis which seem to all be toyota corollas. It's hard to describe the atmosphere really.
I'm going to try and fix my mosquito net now. I feel like rubbish because I've not eaten since six this morning but I guess this is something I'm going to have to get used to. The guys on the terrace are playingthe radio which is a bizarre mix of opera, swahili news, english aids adverts and african music. It's quite soothing actually...
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