A Couple of Days in Mikumi

Getting to Mikumi might have taken a while, but there have certainly been more complicated routes in my travels. From the Songas station at Ubungo, you turn onto the Morogoro Road and go in a straight line for an awful long time. After about three hours you reach a small town called (surprise surprise) Morogoro, at which point you encounter a roundabout. You go straight over and carry on for another hour until you arrive at the entrance to the Mikumi National Park- I think I could remember those directions at a pinch!

Fortunately for us, this was not an issue. Since this was our first trip in Tanzania, we had decided to use a guide. Sure enough, early Thursday morning Bernie, our Tanzanian guide turned up in his 4X4, got us loaded inside and headed out of Dar, off to see some animals.

Although the journey lacked something in twists and turns, it was very interesting- both going there and coming back. Leaving Dar brought us into a totally different world- a world of small villages, mud huts and roadside fruit sellers. The density of Dar was in total contrast to what we saw only miles inland. The heavy rain brought out the incredible expanses of green stretching out as far as the eye could see either side of this single long road. Plenty of people braved the rain- we saw a constant stream of people going about their business. Maasai men walked by in traditional costume; youth clad in years old Liverpool football shirts cycled along; women in their colourful Kangas carrying goods in pots balanced precariously on their heads carried on conversations on mobile phones in a prefect epitome of the melange of cultures affecting a place like this. The further we headed from Dar the more stunning the scenery became. South of Morogoro, we headed through the Uluguru mountains. In the rain these mountains reminded me almost of the Lake District- green slopes, misty peaks- not what I was expecting in Africa to be honest.

After a fairly agreeable four hours of watching people, admiring views and listening to Christmas songs on my iPod with Kieran, we arrived at Mikumi. We figured we were more or less there when we saw a solitary Baboon sitting by the roadside looking at us. As we slowed down for a photo, and I hung my head out of the window for a closer look I realised we were not being looked as so much as flashed by this rather seedy little primate. Suitably amused, we headed on into the park.

Our first stop was at the Mikumi Wildlife Camp to check in, take lunch and to take a look at our accommodation. The camp was beautiful. The stated ethos of the place was that we were the guests of the animals and should therefore fit around them. Accordingly, the camp was clearly designed for low visible impact. Apart from a small shared eating area (meals taken looking out over the plains) there were twelve Bandas- small wooden lodges each with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a toilet. Between us and the Mikumi plains there was absolutely nothing- charming in the day, slightly scarier at night. Sleeping, or trying to, was an acquired skill for me. Strangely, the plains- so calm by day- were a cacophony of noise by night- the bush rats in our roof competed with crickets, bullfrogs and goodness knows what else for the privilege of stopping me sleeping. After hours of lying underneath a large mosquito net, wondering firstly what else was out there and, more importantly, whether mosquito nets would stop snakes or rats from getting in, I succumbed to tiredness and fell asleep. The second night was easier mind- I’m no Indiana Jones but you have to start somewhere!







Mikumi National Park. In the foreground Giraffes and Impala. In the distance, the Bandas of the Mikumi Wildlife Lodge, where we stayed.


So, what about the safari? Between the long, dark and noisy nights were a couple of days- these were filled with some of the most wonderful sights, sounds and smells we’d ever experienced.

Before going into all that, I guess a bit of basic information. When you think of Tanzania’s national parks, Mikumi doesn’t spring to mind- Serengeti, Kilimanjaro, Mngorongoro Crater up in the north are all much better known and are well worth a visit. Mikumi is a very underrated park, in the south of the country. Yes it is intersected by a major road- the main highway to Zambia- and this detracts from the park in the eyes of some purists. However, you’re still talking about over three thousand square kilometres of African plain, bordered by the beautiful Uluguru Mountains to the north and the Udzungwa to the south. More importantly, this park has some of the most consistently good wildlife viewing in the country. Sorry to be superficial, but if we were going to bring two small boys all this way to see animals, then we needed animals.

Boy did we see animals. We opened up the roof of the jeep to allow us to stand up and look out- Kieran named the rearranged vehicle the “parachute car” but, standing up, taking in the view, it seemed more like the Popemobile to be honest! Since the first day was wet we saw fewer animals- the long forgotten experience of feeling cold, however, was a welcome one.

Soma, Kieran and Rohan with Bernie (our guide and driver) and the "Parachute Car"

The second day was much warmer and sunnier, which made both for better photos and way more wildlife. Mikumi’s reputation was well deserved- not only did we see a lot of animals, they were often within spitting distance of the jeep! The biggest boast was that we saw some small lions. Actually, we didn’t just see them, we practically ran over them- in true “King of the Plains” style, these lions were taking a rest in the middle of the track. So what impressed us the most? I’m really not too sure. We came across a herd of elephants, coming up to cross the track in front of us. They were slightly alarmed by an oncoming truck but let both the truck driver and us know who was boss! Soma was less impressed- being from India seeing an elephant is pretty common I suppose. She was very taken with the zebras though- we saw a lot of them over the two days but had an especially close encounter on the second morning- close enough to feed them almost. They seemed less like horses- smaller and closer to donkeys if anything.

Two grown up elephants and a calf- crossed our path on day 2

The giraffes left me in awe. Although they were not as tall as I’d remembered from various zoos, they were so graceful. One after the other they just strolled across the plain, a bit like the trees from Lord of the Rings! However, I think we’re all agreed that the most magical experience actually came in the camp itself. On the second morning. We opened the curtains and saw the plain in front of us full with impala. From behind the Banda, a series of impala then came running by, leaping metres off the ground as they went- there was no obstacle to jump- they were just playing. Such beautiful animals playing and jumping with such energy- even Rohan stopped and looked in amazement!

We spent two days and nights in Mikumi. It is said that Africa gets into your blood- there might be some truth there. As the jeep headed back to Dar, I felt supremely lucky to be able to visit places like this so easily. This will not be the last trip to the parks of Tanzania- of that I am sure. I don’t know if I’m becoming more “environmental” but I remember telling Soma something as we looked out over these plains, so replete with life. “I might be the world’s biggest capitalist” I said, “but there is nothing in the world that would make ruining these beautiful plains and mountains worthwhile”.

The Joys of Househunting

It’s hard to believe that we’ve now been here for well over a month. I guess time flies when you’re having fun- at least that was the excuse I gave Soma as my mother in law’s congratulatory phone call brought it home that I’d now forgotten each and every one of our five wedding anniversaries.

A month in and we’re still enjoying life here, which is always a good sign. I’m getting used to driving around- in fact I’m slightly worried that my driving has actually got worse in order to fit in with the unwritten rules of the road here! In fact on almost all fronts- kids’ nursery, my work, Soma’s social life- we’ve made great progress. Only two major issues have hung over us- getting a place to live and sorting a work permit. The latter is not going to be covered on this blog- apart from the fact that it is a very tedious and boring subject, I’ve delegated the whole process to someone else and therefore have no clue what is going on!

I have to confess that the housing situation was becoming a cause for concern. We knew that the house market was fairly cut-throat here but thought, naively, that we’d cracked it only a week after arriving. We’d found a house that we liked and made an offer which was accepted. After a few attempts at a contract, we were ready to sign at the start of this month. We might have been ready, but the Landlord apparently was not. He maintained a solid radio silence which seemed to indicate that he had another offer but didn’t want to tell us. It was back to the drawing board for us- hope his house gets subsidence though!

Looking for a new place was not as easy as in Cairo, but, unsurprisingly, not as tough as the agents were making out. Although the market is heated, there were properties there- each time a property fell through or we got gazumped, Soma turned another one up within a day. We came agonisingly close on several occasions- we were seconds from signing on one place when the rather portly landlord (Bob Geldof and Bono need not worry themselves unduly over this particular chap) decided that he wanted us to pay his taxes on top of his rent! After a couple of weeks in which we saw the worst of the local landlord community, we finally stumbled upon a very nice place. It looks like a semi-detached Swiss chalet, and is new build. It’s a big place –definitely enough space for visits- in a compound with a shared pool (always good, as you get to swim in it but don’t have to maintain it!) Incredibly, after a lightening quick negotiation, both parties put pen to paper yesterday- we finally have a home! We’ll move into it in the New Year; we just need a work permit now so our possessions can move from Dar es salaam’s dockside, through customs and into this lovely new place!

With immediate needs now more or less sorted out, we can turn our attention to Christmas. Now why is it that I really cannot believe it’s less than two weeks away? Perhaps we’ve just been preoccupied with other things; perhaps it’s because none of the local radio stations seem to play the usual offerings of Slade and Wizzard. No- let’s be honest, while also rubbing it in shamelessly to those working their way through a cold and dark British winter. We had lunch today outside, in thirty degree heat, under bright red flame trees in a very nice seaside restaurant. We then went on to a garden party at the French school before coming home for a late afternoon swim. Being the southern hemisphere, it is the height of summer here. Being Africa, this means it’s very hot and sunny and not at all Christmassy!

December in Dar! A couple of pictures from today. Rohan waiting for lunch at Slipway. Kieran standing just a few metres further on, along the harbour. The island behind him is Bongoyo- I managed to get the world's worst sunburn there a few weeks ago!

Getting back to organising Christmas, Soma, typically has been well on the case. This is partly a matter of self interest, however, given that the boys are now on holiday for three weeks and she needs something to keep them occupied. Regardless of motive, the girl has come up trumps.

At the end of this week, we’ll be heading a few hours southwest of here to the Mikumi national park for a long weekend of safari. I understand that antelopes, zebra and hyena are pretty much everywhere here, but we’re really hoping to see some of the big animals- the elephants, lions and leopards that I’ve been promising Kieran for months. We’ll be back here for Christmas itself (Christmas dinner booked at a local pub run by a couple from Grimsby) and for New Year, before we head off for another few days, this time Zanzibar. Having so many places so close by (Zanzibar is a 20 minute flight) is a real bonus. Soma and I have learned our lesson from Cairo. This assignment could end tomorrow. I hope we’ll be here for years but we should get out and see the place as if it were our last couple of months.

Making Friends

Whatever can be said about the work here in Tanzania, repetitive is not an adjective that springs to mind. This past week has been a real insight- not only into parts of my job, but into Tanzania and its people.

One of my roles here is to oversee the work of the community relations coordinator- a very good bloke called Nicodemus. Now in Egypt, community relations meant a few donations here and there in addition to the occasional site visit. Here it’s far more applied. Firstly, the operation itself impacts on a lot of people- the gas comes from a small island which we share with a substantial local community. We then pipe our gas through 250 miles of some of the poorest parts of Tanzania, through villages all of which could use every penny of help we can provide. The experiences of companies in Nigeria, where they take out resources from a region, pay taxes to the people at the top but leave the immediate local community without a sausage is not something we’re keen to repeat. To ignore the impoverished people from whose land you are taking your gas is not only wrong but also something that could turn a peaceful area into another Niger Delta.

On Thursday, we met with representatives of the Songo Songo Island community- their village elders. It was an interesting experience- traditional African villagers coming to Dar to meet with a bunch of youngish British business types! The incongruity was there to be seen. Into our conference room walked two old men in traditional garb- one wore a grey, short sleeved cotton suit, the other was dressed more in the style of an Arab(a long gallabeya and a hashemite style keffiyeh around his shoulders- I’ll get to the bottom of this one day!) They both wore traditional style box hats. They were accompanied by a younger guy dressed in T Shirt, jeans and his box hat (I‘m guessing that the hats denoted membership of the village leadership but who knows- perhaps it’s a local fashion thing) and a smartly dressed, but sadly hatless man who announced himself as their local councillor. I was surprised to find them not entirely effusive in their greeting- there seemed to be an issue somewhere.

We walked through a number of key issues- work to be done on areas such as provision of water (the development of the island has now attracted economic migrants so our originally agreed water provisioning is not enough to go round), improving access to education and health services. However the general feeling seemed to be that things were being done and they were quite satisfied with our help- so why the underlying unhappiness?

I recently read a book about working in Africa- much of which I’ll take with a mountain of salt given the massive generalisation this entails! One thing mentioned was that, in East Africa especially, people are extremely polite and hate getting right to the point of any criticism- a major complaint may in fact come in the guise of an unimportant non issue, in an attempt to ensure the recipient of the complaint does not lose face.

Sure enough, at the end of the meeting, the spokesperson mentioned casually that they felt it was important for us all to share in the successes and good news of the operations- that they felt proud of what was being done on their island. After a bit more digging, it transpired that in fact, there had been some sort of celebration of a technical achievement on the gas field a while ago, and the village elders had not been invited. This appeared to have caused some upset and, combined with a gap in company visits to the island, had given rise to the feeling of not being respected or considered.

Although the meeting dealt with a lot of key issues, focusing on areas where we could spend money to help them, it struck me that, in fact, what these chaps were after was something more fundamental. They were indeed grateful for the investment we’re making and were pleased with the stuff we’ve committed to do next year. However, my sense was that they walked away from the meeting far happier because of the non financial promises we’d made- to visit more often, to make ourselves available to discuss things with them, and to include them in any future events. In the end, the tangible stuff was nice, but the affirmation of our basic respect was far more important.

More settling in

Well it seems the boys are finally settled. This morning, for the first time since getting here, Kieran turned to me at nursery and said ‘goodbye mummy’ and then ran off to play. A far cry from earlier occasions, when he’s clutched my leg saying ‘don’t leave me!’ and crying loudly enough to disturb even the hard bitten Masai security guards (they have been giving me some funny looks as I run off to the car without so much as looking back).

Rohan has been rather less trouble – I think anywhere with toys, snacks, and adoring adults is good enough for him. He’s recently started trying to make friends, going up to random strangers saying ‘Jambo (Swahili for ‘hello’)! Ana Rohan (Arabic for ‘I’m Rohan’). I think both boys have decided that if the people they see don’t speak English, then they must respond to Arabic! They accompanied me on an expedition to find someone to mend my only pair of shoes (the cobbler was finally found, as promised, ‘under the tree by the side of the highway’) and had a great time chatting with the other men there (not sure what they were doing under the tree). I decided that their language education couldn’t start early enough so they can now say ‘assante’ (thank you) and ‘kwaheri’ (goodbye) in addition to ‘hello’.

Both boys have come a long way since we moved here. Rohan has finally started talking, in whole sentences rather than the occasional word, and Kieran has started to swim! Admittedly with arm bands, but he’s moving along quite rapidly – he can now stay underwater for about 8 seconds. The good thing about Tanzania is that everyone, no matter how young, swims so the boys are being shamed into catching up.

My own existence is a bit more mundane – I seem to spend a fair bit of every day just visiting the shops (4 visits over the last 1.5 day). Part of this is because there are no one-stop hypermarkets here, and you have to go to different places just to get everything you need. The other part is the difference between having a bawwab to lug your shopping up several flights of stairs, and having to do it yourself. I no longer buy a month’s worth of UHT milk, safe in the knowledge that it will mysteriously get from the car to the correct kitchen cabinet without any further effort on my part. (Does anyone realise how boring it is to put away groceries? Not loving that…)

One thing I am loving is driving myself. It’s been about 10 days since I got my driving license, and I’ve got a little hired car (a Toyota Rav4, which seems to be the standard expat mummy car) and it’s great fun to just zip around the peninsula without having to go through the palaver of requesting a driver in advance. Also, when the boys are fractious, we can all jump in the car and go off to the waterfront to have fresh fruit smoothies (and do yet more shopping). Next on the agenda is to explore as much of the surrounding area around Dar as possible, in terms of beaches, islands and safaris – hopefully by the time I next post something, the boys will have seen some wild animals.

The Move to Tanzania. Part 3- Settling In

Okay, so just under two weeks after arriving here what has happened and what are the first impressions? There is so much to get through I really don’t know where to start! As with most times I arrive in a new country, the first impression seems to be the weather- very British of me I know!

Unlike Cairo, the weather here has changed from day to day. People here tell me that this is because we’re just on the cusp of a change in season- from dry to the first rainy season. When we landed a week back, it was sunny, albeit slightly less harshly so than Cairo. Although the temperature was lower than Cairo at its worse- about low to mid thirties- it felt a good deal hotter. In part this was due to the significantly higher humidity, in part due to the slightly more basic air conditioning, meaning that we’re more exposed to temperatures here than before. Whatever the reason, for the first few days we all sweated like crazy and worked our way through gallons of water- it would have been more had we not used the swimming pool outside religiously every afternoon to cool off!

As regards humidity, the last few days have been a case of out of the frying pan into the fire- or out of the steam room into the monsoon! I was advised by a well meaning colleague that the rainy season was here. Seeing torrential rainfall outside (not quite as heavy as India last June but still quite a shock to the system after Cairo) I think I’d managed to figure that one out for myself! So, to summarise- it started off hot and humid and is now hot and torrentially wet! Soma is in paradise!

The first few days were all about getting up and running. I had forgotten just how disorienting a change of country is- the first day you really are starting from nothing. Upon waking up the first morning we had no way of telling the time (Soma’s watch broken and all mobiles handed in at Cairo), no way of calling anyone (the internal hotel phones are internal anyway since the billing system is broken) and no way of getting anywhere! From this unpromising point we really needed to get food (we are self catering here), get the boys into nursery, get ourselves mobile and start the search for a house.

Things got a bit easier once we got in touch with the world. We walked a few minutes down the road and got a mobile phone card- we could call people finally! This enabled us to procure a company car and driver- hurrah! Things got easier from then on. With a temporary arrangement for use of a driver, we achieved our first goals- food and nursery. Driving to Little Scholars was easy- leaving the kids considerably less so. Rohan was fairly easy- he saw the toys and scuttled off happily. Kieran, being more aware of his impending abandonment stuck to my leg like glue. I ended up taking the tearful little guy into his classroom and staying there for the first few minutes, only leaving when he was well and truly engrossed in something!

With the boys out of the way we went house hunting and, unbelievably, found a place on the first morning. I’m not going into too much detail for risk of tempting fate- needless to say we like it a lot and will describe it more when we move in!

The final big achievement was, at the end of last week, getting our Tanzanian driving licences. This sounds impressive but required minimal work on our part. Fortunately, being British, we’re at a huge advantage. We drive on the same side of the road (ie properly!) so are almost there from a Tanzanian perspective. After handing over a copy of our UK licences, two photos and about $4 each, we were in proud possession of our licences that same day- a bureaucratic triumph made all the sweeter by our two lovely Rav4 cars fresh from the car hire store! In four days we’d got the kids in nursery, found a house and got us some wheels. A great start!

Driving here is not too bad actually- I know driving in Africa sounds really exotic and cool but actually it’s a bit like Essex- rules of the road exist but nobody pays much attention to them. The locals bemoan the crazy driving that goes on, but frankly it all seems a bit tame after Cairo. Certainly people do some strange things here and the rules of the road are interpreted a bit flexibly (more like guidance notes than real rules) but in my few days of driving (both on the Peninsula and driving to and from work in Dar city centre) I’ve not been subject to crazy bolts out of the blue as frequently happened in Cairo. People cut in front of you just like in Cairo but here they indicate first! Traffic can be slow and, when you get congestion, obeying silly things like traffic lights is just going to result in getting home hours after everyone else. The secret here is to stay calm, keep moving forward, whatever colour the lights, be careful not to hit anyone/ thing (and if, like my boss you do, make sure it isn’t a police motorcyclist you send careering into the gutter- they get very upset and angry with you) and to make sure you stay awake- nothing too tough in that! Now that the rains are here, however, I’m very grateful for the cars we have. In Cairo we had a large Pajero, mainly in an effort to protect us from the suicidal taxi drivers who plough into the side of you. Here we need 4 by 4 cars to get anywhere off a main road! The main roads are okay, even in rain but the minor ones, such as that which leads to our hotel entrance, have craters which have now become minor lakes- getting over and through them is fun in a Rav4, less so in the Fiat we owned in the UK!

A week in, I think we’re getting settled. The boys like the place; I like drinking good wine and driving (not together of course!). Soma is starting to make some friends here- the people in our block are a very friendly bunch and a myriad of nationalities. It will be a while before this starts to feel like home- certainly not while we’re in a serviced apartment rather than our own place- but when I look back at where we were a week back I think we’ve done okay!

The Move to Tanzania. Part 2- The Journey There.

The worst part of any journey, for me, is getting through Cairo airport. Whether it is the shiny but overcrowded “Old Terminal” or the decrepit, rundown “New Terminal” (another Egyptian oddity I know), arriving at the airport is always my least favourite part of any flight.

Having said our goodbyes to Mohammed and headed into the departure area with the most overloaded trolley in existence, the check- in was pretty trouble free. No stroppy policemen, pestering porters or clueless check in staff. The last of these was mostly due to the fact that, thanks to some major price cuts by Emirate Airlines, we were travelling Business Class the whole way- once you’ve turned left on a plane for the first time, you never go back! I was twenty six when I first went business. Our two boys have beaten that by decades the lucky so and so’s!

After an uneventful hour or so patrolling the terminal- mostly the foodhall and the play area- we boarded the plane. If you are travelling Business just once in your life then make it Emirates- you are treated like royalty. We all took our seats (so large that each seat was a play area in its own for the kids) and awaited take off. Kieran and I said a last goodbye to Cairo as the plane powered up on the runway and then we were off. The three and a half hour flight to Dubai was quite uneventful. Kieran was completely absorbed in the various videos practically the whole flight. When we started our descent, the man in the window seat next to me kindly allowed Kieran to look out of his window. We saw sea, clouds and, off in the distance, the Iranian coastline all of which Kieran took in avidly before he had to be belted in for landing.

Rohan was well behaved too. For the first hour he had slept soundly, and would have done so for longer had his mother not spilled a glass of wine over him at lunch! Even after that rude awakening, Rohan was no trouble. He looked around, watched videos and, in the end was congratulated by some Australian passengers for his good behaviour!

Dubai is simply another world- we felt as if we’d emerged from the darkest recesses of some jungle! The first thing we found upon arrival were these long lost virtues of customer service and common sense. Immediately upon disembarking we were able to take a complimentary buggy for Rohan. The visa queue was brief and painless and bagges came quickly. Before we knew it we were in a car, headed to our apartment at the Golden Sands Hotel.

After check- in, we needed to sort out the kids’ (and our) dinner. This being Dubai, a large supermarket was just over the road, so off we headed. What should have been a quick jaunt took much longer, due largely to two adults, freshly off the plane from Egypt standing and gazing in awe at the sheer mass of choice. Wines, branded goods from home and, most amazingly of all, a pork section! No longer did you have to source this illicit meat from a local “dealer”- you could buy it in a shop! Needless to say, four of us got into bed that night, tired but well fed and happy.

The next day was a busy one. We were due to meet up with an old friend from Cairo. Marianne had spent the tail end of 2006 in Maadi with her husband Doug and her two kids- same age as ours happily enough. When their time in Maadi came to an end, they were so taken with expat life Doug took up a new post with his company in Abu Dhabi. In fact, working for Doug was one of the options presented to me when the Egypt assignment was drawing to a close.

Full of optimism we headed out onto the roadside to hail a taxi. After ten minutes in sweltering heat, discretion duly overcame valour and we returned to the hotel to order a cab instead. A half hour drive past landmarks such as the Burj Tower (7 star hotel) and another building which apparently going to be the tallest in the world, saw us arriving at the entrance to the Emirate Shopping Mall- a place highly recommended by several friends.

Marianne was not due for at least another hour so we got down to our shopping. Half an hour (and a projector, a Nintendo and several games) later, we stopped for lunch next to an immense indoor ski slope. It was at this point, Kieran decided that Dubai was his favourite place on earth- this was not just a small artificial slope but an entire indoor, climate adjusted world of snow. Sadly our planning for a journey to Tanzania via Dubai inexplicably omitted ski suits so we were not able to go- next time will be different, our eldest was assured.

After lunch, we made our way to the soft play area where we met Marianne. She seemed fine and all was perfect. The boys played, the ladies chatted and I headed off to buy more Nintendo games. After a long day of shopping and playing, we got back into our taxi and headed to the hotel for dinner and bed- the toughest part of our journey lay ahead.

It would be fair to say that, despite the best efforts of Emirates, the second part of the journey was a good deal more frazzled than the first. Things got off to a bad start when our Emirates pickup called in late. I contacted the airline to confirm that we would not miss our flight and was told I should have booked him earlier. After much exploding on my part (they had suggested the pickup time in the first place after all) profuse apologies were offered. The driver turned up forty minutes late blaming traffic “traffic bad- what to do?” was the lame excuse “leave home earlier” the fairly curt response. After a pleasant ride through suspiciously uncongested roads, we arrived at the airport in good time. We trundled our bags into what was a snobs’ paradise (ie heaven for me)- the business class terminal. Not only did our tickets mean a separate queue but a completely separate, posh part of the building- these guys know how to do luxury too! We spent a happy half hour in the lounge working our way through the buffet (bacon, eggs and champagne anyone?) before boarding the flight to Dar es salaam.

This flight was, at five and a half hours, a good deal longer than the first, and Rohan had slept in the airport as well. It was no surprise therefore that this time was a bit tougher than the last. Both boys behaved quite well though and, in mid afternoon sun, we landed at Julius Nyerere International Airport in Dar es salaam. Unlike Dubai (and just like Cairo) there were no buggies on hand to place Rohan in. Dubai was a welcome aberration in our slightly more flustered and sweaty “emerging markets” existence, we reminded ourselves. At this point (and in retrospect entirely understandably given the length of the flight), Kieran decided not just to blot his copybook of good behaviour but to well and truly dye it black. He was impossible in the passport queue, staging a lie- down protest in front of the official (who, had it have been me would have deported him!!) and then played havoc with the luggage belt. After retrieving all our bags, we headed outside into the hot humidity of Tanzania. The first face we saw was that of Joyce, a Songas administrator. She brought the car up to us- Rohan nearly brought his Tanzanian existence to an abrupt end by running so suddenly in front of a car that even Soma’s reflexes did not catch him! After all the bags were packed, Soma and I got into the back of Joyce’s car, a kid on each lap. We left the airport headed towards our temporary apartment on the Msasani Peninsula, both boys gazing avidly out the window at their new homeland. Rohan practised his Swahili by repeating “Jambo” over and over. Kieran practised his diplomacy by loudly asking why everyone outside was black. Soma and I were absolutely dog tired but glad that at least the journey had come to a close.

The Move to Tanzania. Part 1- Leaving Cairo

As predicted, the last posting was indeed the final one made from Cairo. As I sit here in our temporary apartment here in Dar es salaam, I realise there is a lot to recall in the last week or so. To make sense of things, I’ll split this posting into three bits; the final preparations before we left Cairo, the journey here and the mad few days that have passed since we arrived here on Monday 5th November. Here goes for part 1- “The Leaving”.

My final day at work was an odd affair. Annoyingly enough, after a month of complete inactivity a fairly urgent issue came up in the final couple of days. With one foot out of the door, I was really only able to provide advice to my colleagues on how to handle it. A couple of calls and emails were needed before I handed over my laptop for good though. After a short lunch with my colleagues (aptly ordered in from the same hotel we stayed in upon our immediate arrival in Cairo) I made one final tour of the office, saying goodbye to as many of the people as I could find. I was a bit sad to say goodbye but have been on the verge of leaving for far too long to feel anything other than relief at finally getting out. With considerably less emotion than I had expected, I got into the car and headed home to see how the removal men were doing.

Using removal firms is an odd thing. Right up until a couple of days before departure, your house is untouched- you begin to question whether you have actually done everything you need to do since things simply don’t look as if you’re about to move countries. All of a sudden, though, about twenty men descend on your house, falling upon it like locusts. In just one day, our apartment was utterly denuded of its furniture and all our accumulated junk. By the evening, all our possessions save a few that were actually coming on the plane with us) were sitting in a pile of boxes outside the front entrance to the building, awaiting the removal truck which, true to Egyptian style, had vanished. Save for a few items belonging to the landlord and about five suitcases and their contents (coming with us on the flight), the house was stripped bare.

After half an hour waiting outside, Kieran and I decided that the absent van was the problem of the removal men- not ours- so headed up to bed. Thankfully one double bed and one single mattress belonged to the landlord so we at least had something to sleep on!

Friday morning began as normal with a trip to Café Greco. We stayed, said farewell to the staff there and headed home for lunch- difficult to cook without any pots so we ordered in and ate on the terrace. That afternoon and evening saw a steady stream of friends come over to say a final goodbye. Carol and Paul, Daniel, Viv and Ian (both of whom split the remaining contents of our wine and spirits reserves and, finally Tim. The toughest goodbye, however, was that of Iman- the boys’ nanny. She has been a part of the boys’ lives (whether as nursery teacher or as nanny) throughout our time here so has known Kieran since he was a year old and Rohan practically since birth. The boys did not grasp the gravity of this particular goodbye but Iman may as well have been handing over her own children. Promises to come and visit or to fly her out to see us would have been impossible to fulfil so there was little that could be said to console her. She left our house very tearful- hopefully her new job caring for Viv’s baby will take her mind off things.

Anyway, we had one final bizarre dispute with the landlord over when the apartment should be handed over. We’d agreed 6pm that evening; he then sent his wife at 7pm but she didn’t want to get out of her car so just took all keys except one and drove off without seeing or signing anything. Hee then called to reschedule for around midnight, or possibly midday the following day (approximately 15 minutes before our plane left!). Soma told him very firmly that he could either come round immediately or would have to come before 9am the next morning, after which time we’d leave the remaining key with the bawaab and head to the airport. He promised to come at 8.30 on the dot the next morning. One final, typically Egyptian vignette that sums up beautifully some of the bizarre frustrations of living there! We retired to bed, ready for the big day.

The next morning, we were up, bathed, dressed and breakfasted early. We all spent a final few minutes saying goodbye to our terrace- the coolest one we’ll ever have I think! The landlord phoned to say he was sending his driver to take our keys- I knew 8.30am was going to be too early for him! We did a final check, signed off the handover form and left the keys (and a pristine flat) in the hands of our landlord’s driver. At just after 9am, we got into the car and, after a swift detour at Viv’s house, headed to Cairo airport.

After an easy run to the airport, we loaded up the trolley, bid a final and grateful farewell to our driver Mohammed (both of us quite sad to see the back of each other but not as hysterically upsetting as Iman thankfully) and disappeared into the departure area of Cairo airport- the same terminal into which three of us had arrived back in 2005. The leaving was over, the three day trip to Tanzania via Dubai- two adults and two excited, nervous and generally rowdy toddlers- was about to start.

Of Parties and Partings

After what seems to be an eternity of getting ready and saying goodbye, we’re finally entering the last stretch of our stay in Cairo. The departure is imminent and the farewell parties are in full force!

Kieran was lucky enough to have first go- a collection of his motliest crew convened at our house last Thursday. In fact, this was not strictly speaking a leaving party. We’d decided to bring his birthday forward a few weeks to ensure he actually had some friends to celebrate with. Lots of fun was had on our roof- old games like “Pin the Tail on the Donkey” brought back memories of my single- digit birthday parties. Soma even made Kieran a special cake that at least two of the guests recognized as being Thomas the Tank Engine! After a couple of hours, all kids were burned out and had departed. Kieran and Rohan wended their way to bed and Soma flaked out accordingly!

From left: Nina, Kieran and Adam rifle through the party bags.

Next day we were up bright and early- seconds away for round two and this was the big one! At seven that evening, about sixty of Maadi’s finest would descend (or more appropriately ascend, given that the party was on our roof) for our official leaving party. The day sped by- people came with traditional tables and chairs; more people came to set up the lights and the bar; beer, wine and soft drinks arrived in massive quantities and by late afternoon Samir from the Deli had arrived. Now unless you have lived in the Middle East for any length of time you will not truly understand just what a legend a man like Samir is. He is gold dust for the simple reason that HE SELLS PORK SAUSAGES AND PORK CHOPS! To be honest, once the rumour had spread that Samir was both supplying and cooking for our party, the RSVP’s flooded in- so was it us or the pork? Who knows, but by eight that evening our roof terrace was kicking!

The barbecue was as good as had been promised- aided by some lamb pies and prawns that Soma had secured from another “diamond geezer” supplier of ours. Once fed, a few hardy souls set about the one remaining task of finishing off my bar. Over the past few years, I’d amassed a fair sized collection of obscure liquors and spirits, none of which were headed to Tanzania. Unwilling to chuck them down the sink, we chucked them down ourselves instead until…….I woke up the next morning!
Daniel holding an early Chubb attempt at a Long Island Ice Tea- we got it right in the end!

After a Saturday that will go down in history as the forgotten day- Daniel and Janice coming around with some Latte from Café Greco being the only highlight- I woke up Sunday for the start of my last week as Commercial Manager of Sidi Krir.

The day was nothing to write home about- not until my official works leaving do started that evening at the Four Seasons in Garden City. Another hot tip for anyone planning on eating out in Cairo- Aqua is a very stylish, very posh little restaurant on the second floor and well worth a go! Soma and I were joined by my boss, Tom, his wife Barbara and my soon- to- be- ex- colleagues Colin, Sherif, Wafaa and Sayed. After a far more civilized dinner than had been enjoyed on our roof, Tom made the customary, but very generous speech about my contribution (which as is clear from the increasing size of this blog has been somewhat limited as of late!) and presented us with an array of leaving presents. We are now richer to the tune of three very nice Syrian alabaster candle holders, one video camera and a crystal clock- I’ll try to do a fly on the wall video of the move!

Works leaving do at the Cairo Four Seasons. From left: Sayed, Wafaa, me, Barbara, Sherif, Colin, Soma and Tom

Thus are the official leaving parties done. We’ll have friends round this week to say some proper goodbyes of course. I’m not quite sure how it will all pan out. Soma and I aren’t that emotional (read- we’re both cold hearted!) but there are some fine people we’ve met in Maadi that we will miss a lot. Friday in Tanzania will be a working day, not, as has been the case since 2005, spent meeting up in Café Greco with our good friends Viv, Tim, Carol, Paul, Daniel, Janice and an assortment of other fine people.

I’m not sure when the next update will be to this blog. I’m writing this on Monday- the home computers get packed Thursday and that same day I walk out of this office in Dokki leaving this laptop in my ex- to- be office. For now it’s a case of continuing to say bye to Cairo- the next posting will most likely be from a new life in Tanzania. The Msasani Peninsula, Little Scholars, South African wine and right hand drive cars await us!

Ma'a Salama ya Sidi Krir!

As our departure date looms ever closer- 3rd November is now a little more than a fortnight away, the bitter sweet experience of the “farewell tour” is now underway. What with all this jetting around through the past couple of months, I had not actually paid a visit to the Sidi Krir power plant in what must have been ages. Colin Parrish, our Plant Manager heartily agreed and suggested very enthusiastically that this absence had to end.

Thus it was that, on the morning of Wednesday October 17th, I found myself in the passenger seat of our Pajero, pulling out of Maadi to start the oft driven schlep up to Sidi Krir. On this occasion, however, something was a bit different- the weather. Now weather in Egypt is not something you dwell on too much. “Oooh what a sunny day it is, I wonder what it will be like tomorrow” tends to run a bit thin once you get into the third month of blazing heat and zero precipitation. In fact, one thing very noticeable about Egyptians is that they never really talk about the weather- it’s hot, get over it!

Well today the weather was worth talking about. For the first time in months it had actually rained the night before- and not just a small shower either. For hour after hour, rain poured, thunder rolled and lightning flashed. In fact, on the way home the previous evening, the dark, miserable rainy weather had evoked a very brief flash of homesickness in me- one that vanished once I stepped out of the car, mind! The rain was so solid and so heavy that, in the wee small hours, it started to come through the gaps in the terrace door and window and was dripping solidly down onto the corridor floor. I was actually quite grateful for this- being a tenant, I was not on the hook for the repair and, more importantly, we now had a cast iron excuse for the water damage inflicted by a session or two too many in the paddling pool over the summer.

Anyway, Mohammed and I made painfully slow progress across Cairo, whose lack of a decent drainage system was becoming rather apparent. We worked our way through umpteen lake sized puddles and around countless vehicles which, being on their last legs in the dry, had given up the ghost completely in the wet. After an hour we reached the Heliopolis apartment of my friend and colleague Sherif. With Sherif aboard we made our way west to join the Cairo- Alexandria road.

With the rain behind us, everything from this point had the grim predictability of a journey which had been made over fifty times before with the added tinge of knowing that this was actually the last time I’d be doing it. As things on the road flashed by- the unspeakable service station halfway on the road, the huge equine sanctuary with Delboy like statues of horses adorning the entrance, the “Lion Village” zoo- I bid a quiet goodbye to them. We even played Mohammed’s favourite CD (the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever, which I’d bought him a year or so ago in an attempt to stop him from ever again asking me to listen to his cassette of the Bee Gees in concert with Barbara Streisand).

We arrived at Sidi Krir at lunchtime- the usual McDonalds salad will not be missed. After an afternoon of very dull accountancy, the details of which I will not go into, we headed off for a last night at the world’s worst Hilton hotel- the Borg al Arab Hilton. It says Hilton on the signage but in reality I have spent a few nights each month for the last three years staying at a pink Arab version of Fawlty Towers. The only fond memory I have of the place isn’t even mine- it is of our cantankerous Texan CEO trying to have a shower and getting scalded in the process. After a few beers with Colin and Charl (a South African piping consultant here ostensibly for our ongoing outage but seemingly for the sole purpose of needling Colin and I before the Rugby World Cup final) I headed up to enjoy my final night in the place.

After a few more hours of bean-counting the next day, I started to say my goodbyes. I donned the glasses and helmet for the last time and headed to the maintenance building with Colin where I caught up with a few soon- to- be- ex colleagues. After a final photograph with Colin and Sherif (a team photo is a fairly traditional goodbye rite for all visitors there) we made our way home- a final slog back to Cairo.

Sidi Krir Power Station- the reason we came to Egypt in the first place!

A final team photo outside the admin building. From left Colin Parrish (Plant Manager), me, Sherif Moussa (Financial Controller)

Although I left Sidi Krir without much emotion, I must confess I’ll miss the place. Although I’m no engineer, it is a place I’ve come to grow fond of. The people have come together as a team and have taken a pride in their station. Unlike many engineers they have not just accepted my visits but have really embraced what I've been trying to do, proving that Beancounters and Dilberts can work together! However, it is the whole repeated ritual of these trips that will be remembered fondly for a while yet. Listening to awful Bee Gee cassettes on the long, dull road to and from Cairo, swapping weak jokes with the likes of Adel, Abdallah and Nabi, semi drunken gossip with Colin in the Hilton bar and braving the worst a supposedly five star hotel can throw at you are now firmly ensconced in my memory.

To Bawiti and Beyond- Camping in the Desert

Day 1

The first thing I noticed about the room we’d taken in the International Hot Springs Hotel was that, despite it having no air conditioner, it was actually pretty cool. Looking around, we were in a clean and basic hexagonal room with windows situated in just the right position to get a good throughflow of air. “These desert people certainly know how to design a cool house”, I thought.

“These desert people” were in fact Peter, a middle aged German man with a penchant for traditional galabeyas and his Japanese wife. They had come to the village of Bawiti some 14 years ago, set up this hotel- come expedition base camp and had run it ever since. I guess running a hotel anywhere must pretty quite hard work. To set up a hotel in the middle of a desert in a foreign country however, requires a level of drive few of us have. Peter and his wife employ a large staff of local people, both in the hotel itself and in the desert excursions they also offer. Listening to Peter talk about the area, looking at the postcards created by his wife and the camel blankets he himself sells, you can see a driving passion for the desert and its people. His Arabic might be a bit broken and spoken with a German accent but this man seems determined to take his place as part of the fabric of local society- attracting much needed money to the area, employing local people but taking pains to respect the local environment seems to be a pretty good way to achieve this.

The village of Bawiti is found close to the Bahariya Oasis towards the easternmost extreme of the Western Desert and is about a four hour drive from Cairo. Walking around the place, we felt well and truly taken back in time. The village is very hot and dusty, with low built houses cramped up against each other. The only real hint of modernity came with the numerous offroad vehicles which shared the narrow lanes with the far more traditional mules and carts reflecting the way the tourist industry shares pride of place with traditional pastoralism here. After about twenty minutes we sought shade by heading into the oasis itself. When thinking of an oasis as a child, I always imagined a small lake surrounded by a dozen or so palm trees such as is seen in cartoons. Actually a real oasis is much bigger than that. We found ourselves walking through a large forest of palm trees. Apart from the respite from the heat, we took in the fact that this place was replete with food- every tree had something edible hanging from it. At first we minded our manners- respectful of the fact that our guide was fasting for Ramadan. However he insisted we try some of the fruit and soon enough we were working our way through some of the sweetest, freshest dates we’d had in a long time. Kieran found a lemon tree and, inexplicably started on a couple of lemons too!

Kieran and I coming out of the Baharya Oasis

After much walking, we eventually emerged from the oasis, slightly tired and very full. Kieran announced he wanted a piggy back so we took that as the cue to head back to the hotel.

Sunset came soon enough and Kieran and I climbed to the top of a small hill behind the hotel called Gebel al Ingleez (the English Mountain). The name comes from the fact that in times past, the occupying British forces had a base on the hill to keep an eye on Senussi tribesmen coming through from Sudan and Libya. Kieran and I watched the sun go down over the oasis and came down for a visit to the hotel playground and dinner before bed.

Day 2

Unusually enough, I woke up before Kieran did- although not by much. After about five minutes, he woke up, got out of bed and trotted over me and asked if he could go to the playground. I told him that today was a very big day and he needed to keep his energy for exploring the desert. Soma and Rohan joined us soon enough and we headed to the playground for a pre- breakfast go on the swings. Breakfast was basic but very good- local balady bread, cheese and eggs along with the traditional foul dish so loved by Egyptians everywhere.

At 9.30 we met Peter in Reception where he gave us an introduction to the desert. We were to leave the hotel and drive through the Black Desert. The Black Desert is approximately 40 million years old, dating back to the Cretaceous Period. At that time, the continent of Africa started to split in an East- West direction (apparently it is still doing so at about a centimeter per year). This split created massive geological upheaval resulting in a lot of volcanos spewing up a lot of lava- this lava is what makes the Black Desert black. We would then head into the White Desert which, apart from being white, is even older still. Dating back 70 million years to a time when only one continent existed, the White Desert is the fossilized remains of a seabed. All interesting in theory but we were anxious to see it all.

We met our guide, a local man called Arif. We packed our belongings into an already full Landcruiser and headed through Bawiti into the desert. As promised, we headed first of all through the Black Desert and it certainly lived up to its name. There was very little sand- it was mostly very dry, very hot black volcanic rock. After half an hour we did manage to find some real sand and accelerated the car to the top of a large dune from which we could see a very impressive black panorama. From here we had our first experience of the sounds of the desert- absolute silence!

Half an hour further on and we stopped at a small volcano. This was clearly a regular stop as other trekkers were already there. Soma helped Rohan totter about while Kieran and I made a bid for the top. In fact we got about halfway up before he asked for a piggy back. That being the case and the fact that the way up was becoming steeper and less clear, we decided to stop there and take in the view. “Kieran” I said, “this is real desert!” Kieran’s response, logically enough was “was the desert before a pretend desert, daddy?” Stumped by this, we sat together for a while, headed back down for more water and continued on our way.

Panorama of the Black Desert, taken from halfway up a volcano

We stopped at about midday for lunch. Arif needed to go to his Friday prayers so we took lunch in a very nice tent structure attached to a small restaurant. The food was basic but good- more balady bread and various salad items were served along with some juices for the boys and mint tea for us.

Another hour of driving in the afternoon found us in the White Desert and never has a place so fitted the name! This was not just pale sand but absolutely brilliant white rock for miles around. Out of this brilliant white landscape protruded hundreds of the strangest rock structures we’d ever seen. This was truly the most unearthly landscape any of us had ever seen! Driving offroad was much easier as this was not so much sand as rock so we were able to go at some speed. With no other car for miles around and a perfectly flat, infinitely wide “road” we must have hit 100mph- it felt almost like high speed ice skating! We ended up at one rock structure known in the area as the Chicken and the Egg- it apparently looks like one although Soma had her doubts. According to her, trying to give shapes to these structures was like a Rorschach test, you could ascribe meaning to anything- spoilsport!

The White Desert

As the shadows started to lengthen, we headed back into the Black Desert and, after an hour, found a suitable dune to camp under. Soma headed off onto it with the kids while Arif and I set up camp. We set up a big tarpaulin against the side of the car and put down some rugs. That half box was our kitchen. Given that sunset was imminent and Arif was desperate to eat we decided dinner should come before the tents. The two of us sat down and started chopping and peeling. Dinner came along with nightfall and we sat down under the stars, with just headlights and a fire for light.

Rohan and Kieran were starting to yawn so we put up the tents and put them to bed. Rohan fell asleep immediately but Kieran kept poking his head out, presumably to check we’d not left him alone in the desert. After a bit more gazing at stars and taking in the sheer silence, we too headed to bed.

Day 3

Unbelievably, for a second day running, I was awake before Kieran! This time, though, I had to wake him too. He was almost awake and I needed to go pee! I didn’t want his first memory of waking up in the desert to be marred by panic over where his Dad was, so he got up and came with me. Fascinated by the concept of “going” in the desert, he too dug a small hole and had his morning pee! Soma and Rohan were by now awake but, not wanting to wake Arif, we headed over to the next dune to play and to watch the sunrise. The pre dawn was light enough but, at six o’clock, the sun finally came over the dune- a magical moment with a reddish orange light mixing with the other- worldly blackness of the desert floor.

Our camp- taken just after sunrise on Day 3


Sitting at the top of “our dune”, I felt extremely fortunate to be where I was. We were the only people for miles around; the kids had unlimited sand and rocks to play in; the air was pure and, for the two hours straight after sunrise, the temperature was very pleasant- the desert chill had been tempered by the sun but the sheer dry heat of the day had not yet arrived.

Arif awoke soon enough and, conscious that we wanted to be away before the real heat set in, we had a simple breakfast, packed up and headed back to Bawiti. After lunch in the hotel we met up with Mohammed and began the long drive home.

Our weekend in the desert was perhaps one of the most magical experiences any of us have had. To spend a day taking in the sights of these geological wonders was amazing; to be allowed to spend a night and to wake up in such an environment was a privilege. Speaking to my Egyptian friends and colleagues afterwards, I was amazed that none of them knew much about the desert areas and nobody had thought of visiting them. Part of me was disappointed that 99% of the people had not seen what constituted 90% of their country, especially given the sheer beauty of the place. On the other hand, perhaps an invasion of the masses is the last thing the place needs. I’d heartily recommend to the five or so readers of this blog that you go visit Bawiti, pass on my best wishes to Peter by all means- just don’t tell too many people how good it is!

A visit to Greece

In the true spirit of London buses, I’m now rounding off a mini glut of posting to this blog- although two posts hardly construes a glut it’s still a lot of typing! The office is working strictly to Ramadan hours, meaning works finishes at 3pm. In an attempt to get back up to date both with work and with this blog, I’ve opted to stick around until 7.30pm when Mohamed my driver has finished his Iftar and gets back across Cairo to take me home. Actually the drive home should be quite pleasant- leaving at 4pm most days, the roads are jam packed with starving angry drivers all trying their best to get home by dark and managing to reenact Wacky Races in the process. After Iftar everyone is home so roads are empty.

Anyway, back in my office in Cairo, all seems to be quiet again. Our mad two weeks of traveling has come to an end (well international travel anyway) and Mum has headed back home after a rather tough fortnight of dealing with the boys!

Last weekend saw our final bit of overseas travel (for this month anyway). In the wee small hours of Friday morning, Soma and I boarded an Olympic Airlines plane headed for Thessaloniki via Athens to attend the wedding of our long standing friend Matt to his Greek better half. Egypt having changed its hour early and, more specifically not having told the rest of the world about it, we actually landed in Athens an hour later than we thought- good news since we more or less got right onto our connecting flight.

Coming out of Thessaloniki Airport, the place did not seem that impressive. Other than the nice weather and the fact that our driver was smoking like a chimney and playing non stop Bee Gees tracks the whole way, there was little to differentiate this place from Wolverhampton!

Once we got into the city centre, to the Minerva Hotel, that view changed radically. Thessaloniki is a port town with beautiful classical architecture, wide plazas and a long waterfront on which hundreds of small bars and cafes stretch off into the distance. We met up with Matt and some other friends (many recognizable from the haze of his stag do in Munich last year). What a difference a year makes, I thought- none of them were too bothered about heading to a bar. We all opted for lunch and a quiet coffee instead. Was this a new found maturity? Had the fact that two had become fathers brought them kicking and screaming into middle age? No- they had all been out on a bender the previous night and had only got in at 7am!

Soma on the Thessaloniki waterfront- a brief interlude of walking between cafes!


Anyway we wandered through a marketplace to a very small but very good little restaurant recommended by Matt and sat down to one of those long leisurely lunches you’re meant to have in these places. We must have spent hours in the place, picking away at the various mezze, working our way through the myriad film posters on the wall working out which of the classics we’d actually seen (nobody had seen Citizen Cane which confirms my suspicion that, despite it always getting voted the best film of all time, nobody has ever watched it).

Anyway, on to Saturday- the wedding day. As with our own wedding in India there were a number of pre wedding rituals that had to be followed during the day. The oddest of these was Matt getting shaved and dressed by his friends. All of us were crammed into a small hotel room, sipping afternoon drinks with Matt sat in his boxer shorts on a chair being shaved- very odd.

At 7pm we were all suited and booted and were picked up by the coach taking us to the church. We stayed outside the church a while taking photos. Everyone got very excited when Soma came and announced the bride was round the corner meeting her Greek family and friends “and she’s wearing a meringue!” she said to the delight of at least the female contingent. We all headed off to see her and started taking photos until I realized that this was not the Christina I knew- unless she’d put on weight, dyed her hair and more worryingly, shrunk! Indeed this was not Christina, but another newly wed lady who had taken the 7pm slot!

Bang on time we headed inside the church and waited a while taking in the beautifully ornate artwork of the place. Interestingly, although it was obviously a church, it lacked the European feel of a Catholic or Protestant church. This was much closer in feel to the religious places close to our home in Egypt- a useful reminder that Christianity is not a Western religion at all, but one rooted in the Middle East.

Matt and Christina came in together- not a bride being given away so much as a couple presenting themselves before God. The priests came in with them and conducted the entire ceremony themselves. According to the wedding notes, this was because the wedding was not so much a conversation between the couple as one with God- one which only the priesthood could conduct. The ceremony ended with the couple and the priest walking round the altar three times (three times to represent the Trinity, the priest was there to guide them on their first steps in married life) and that was that- hitched!

Matt and Christina being taken on their first married steps by a very large priest- also being pelted by a lot of confetti/ rice.

After a slightly convoluted ride to the reception we arrived at close to 10pm. Food was ready and waiting and we dug in! The music varied from your traditional wedding fare to some more Greek stuff and, predictably we all ended up in a big circle dancing to Zorba the Greek- a huge cliché but a lot of fun!

We headed back at 2am (5 hours before the bride and groom left the building apparently!) and went to bed, treating ourselves the next morning to our first lie in years!

We enjoyed this Greek wedding and the whole experience of Greek café life. However, on more than one occasion we got the sense of time having passed. More than a few people now have kids and Matt, the epitome of the single man, is now married. There were some huge nights out had by some but they seemed be a bit of a last hurrah- two of the protagonists now have small kids and are beginning to realize that screaming babies and hangovers don’t go. Matt I’m sure will be at that stage before long too. This time round we all drank more tea and coffee than beer- seems like the sensible life is upon us!

Jambo! Our First Visit to Tanzania

We go from one extreme to the other it seems. A couple of weeks ago I was cribbing about not writing because there was nothing to write about; now so much is happening I don’t have time!

First things first; we seem to be getting close to agreeing a move date for me. Actually the first draft of the posting included a very definitive and confident paragraph stating that we’d be leaving October 18th- that, typically, has now changed. We’re looking to move somewhere around the first week of November now- good for us as some of Soma’s family is in Egypt at the end of October and can now pay us a visit!

The move process is getting well underway now. Quotes have been received from removal firms, we’re doing a major triage of stuff (the pool table went to a loving new owner last week!), vaccination are being pumped into us as fast as the doctors can administer them and we’re even learning a few words of Swahili!

The biggest step to date came over the weekend. With Mum now arrived in Cairo on major babysitting duties, Soma and myself boarded the Kenya Airways flight on Thursday night to Dar es Salaam- a short “look see” visit was in order.

I’m not going to get too sidetracked but the flight was not a lot of fun. The plane was good, food great, flight crew very professional. However their sense of timekeeping makes Egypt look like Switzerland. Through the six stages (Cairo- Khartoum- Nairobi- Dar and back again) five were late. The Dubai route definitely looks like being the one for us next time!

Anyway, what about Dar? We’re both really positive about this place. We were picked up by one of the Songas drivers, Abubakar, who was very friendly. The drive across Dar, to the Msasani Peninsula gave us our first experience of Tanzania driving……and it wasn’t bad at all. The bonus is that they drive on the left although, as with Cairo, that is always a fairly flexible rule- potholes are a bigger factor in where on the road you drive than any Highway Code. The traffic itself was okay and drivers a bit better than Cairo. Abubakar spent a fair bit of time pointing out the shocking driving of various Daladala (microbus equivalent) drivers who swerved from lane to lane. As with their Egyptian counterparts, these guys were a bit kamikaze but, as Soma pointed out, at least they indicate in Dar!

After an hour or so, we arrived at our hotel on the Peninsula and got a feel for the area we’re hoping to live in. The first thing that leaped out at us was just how clean it all is. Sure there was a bit of rubbish and debris from place to place but the lack of pollution was…. Erm… a breath of fresh air! I guess that should not be too much a surprise; there is less heavy industry in Tanzania than in Cairo so actual pollution is lower to start with. Added to this, we’re on the coast so have a fair bit of wind to take any pollution out to sea- doubly so on a peninsula. The peninsula itself is pretty lightly populated- it seems to be the rough equivalent of Maadi in that most expats live here. However, this is not a place where you’ll be strolling from neighbour to neighbour- a car of some sort is going to be needed for any sort of social life here.





A shot of the Tanzanian coastline, taken from the Msasani Peninsula

Friday evening found the need for food just about trumping the need for sleep so we headed down to the restaurant for a bite. Sitting at a table by the sea, an African band playing away, we both realized that this destination was perhaps not going to be as tough as we and many of our friends had feared. We also had our first experience of the food. That first meal sealed the deal for Soma- keeping weight off here is going to be hard as the food is just amazing! The basic ingredients here are remarkably similar to those of Goa- lots of fresh fish and seafood, rice, fresh fruit, coconut and spices. There seems to be an Indian Ocean cuisine in the same way you have Mediterranean food- not surprising, I guess, given the centuries of trade between East Africa, Arabia, India and China.

Anyway, apart from simply taking in the general lifestyle of the place, we did need to carry out some more focused researches. After seeing about ten places, we realized that none was quite in keeping with what we were looking for in a home- too small, wrong location, bad décor etc. Most of the homes we saw would do at a pinch but we came away feeling that a bit of time would allow us to find “the one”. That being the case we opted for a serviced apartment to stay in for the first month or two- to be used as a base for Soma’s more hard nosed assault on the local property market later.

We did sort one thing out however. After a careful selection (Eton, Repton, Harrow….) we decided that the boys will be going to “Little Scholars” playgroup. Out of all those we saw, this one just blew us away- the icing on the cake was that Kieran’s teacher- to- be is originally from Pune!



The playground at the boys' new nursery- "Little Scholars"

So, back in Cairo, what have we returned with,apart from the obligatory Kenya Airways model for Kieran and two bottles of top notch non Egyptian wine? We certainly have much more information with which to work out how to get ourselves settled. A nursery for the boys is now set up; we've chosen a good serviced apartment for the first few months; we have a good idea of what sort of housing we can get for our money; I know where the local pub is.

We've had just a glimpse of our new life and have come away counting the days till we can make the move. We’re going to be very happy living in Dar. It's a cleaner place with great food, nice people and decent wine! We'll miss Cairo for sure and will be leaving some special friends behind, but what we saw in Tanzania is more than just a silver lining!

We got back last night- very tired after the obligatory plane delays but also full of enthusiasm. In Tanzania we have lot of fun ahead of us- safaris to take, people to meet and, for me, a lot of interesting work to do. We’re off to Greece for a wedding at the weekend. From there on in there’s an awful lot of work to do to get us from Cairo to Tanzania!

Off to the Football

At long last I’ve done something I’ve been itching to do for the past two and a half years. The Pyramids and the Sphinx have been done to death, the Khan el Khalili and the Mohammed Ali Mosque have been seen and wondered at too. A couple of times we even ventured as far afield as the Birkash camel market. These were all well and good but what I’ve been dying to see for ages is a decent Egyptian football match.

Football is very popular here in Egypt. I don’t mean European football either. Through most of Africa and Asia, if you ask someone what their favourite team is they will probably say Man Utd, Liverpool or Barcelona. Not in Egypt! Although Egyptians take an interest in overseas football, and are especially proud of their overseas contingent (including two plying their trade in the North East at Middlesborough!) their real passion is for their local sides. Of these, none is as big or as successful as Al Ahly. Their red shirts with Vodafone splashed all over the front look at bit like the 2006 Man Utd team. That, however, is where the similarity ends. In terms of success they knock spots off anyone. For two years after I arrived here they went undefeated in Egypt and on the African continent. They have won the Egyptian league three years in a row and the African Champions league twice in a row. They celebrated their centenary by winning their hundredth major trophy. These guys might be in a smallish pond but they are very big fish indeed!

What better occasion for my first football match than a crucial final group stage match in the African Champions League against Asec Mimosas, champions of Cote D’Ivoire. The tickets were ridiculously cheap (or is it just that UK tickets are stupidly expensive?) at 30 Egyptian Pounds (less than three quid) each. Wanting to look the part we all bought a shirt each for about the same price.

We’d been warned to get to the stadium very early- this was a major match and a high attendance was likely. The police therefore could well stop off access some time before kick off. We parked on the main road, just over from where former President Sadat was assassinated, and made our way through the police barriers. The first impression I had was how closely this resembled an English match- lots of supporters all making their way in a never ending column towards the stadium. The next impression however was that actually this was ever so slightly different. The level of police coverage was massive- hundreds upon hundreds of black clad riot police, horses and heavy duty vehicles. Even at a Millwall match there are not that many police- and they certainly are not armed to the teeth as they were here. I wondered what the police were there to prevent- surely there were not going to be more than fifty Asec fans making their way to Cairo?

The Cairo National Stadium is most impressive. It is a typical Latin American style bowl- the pitch is some way from the seating separated by the athletics track (upon which a variety of policemen and special forces types were sat). At first it seemed fairly empty but, as expected, it filled up fast. By about 7 o’clock the place was rocking- an hour before kick off and more noise than you’d find anywhere in the Premiership. As expected the stadium was a sea of red- there seemed to be more Asec players warming up on the pitch than there were Asec fans! Still, that didn’t stop the hundred or so of them being given an entire end of the stadium (sad as it made for a half empty stadium in what could have been a sellout match). These fans must have had a reputation as supermen as they were surrounded by a two thick cordon of police!

The Al Ahly end........

.........and the teams coming out to face the army of Asec fans (or should it be the army and the Asec fans?)

Kickoff was at 8 o’clock and the match was pretty anodyne for the first part. In part this was due to nerves on the part of both sides- a draw would suit both if results went the right way elsewhere but defeat would be a disaster. In addition to nerves, the Egyptian tactics were rather bizarre. A team of small, skillful players were trying long, high balls against the biggest guys I’ve seen outside of a basketball team! As the match progressed, the crowd started getting less enthusiastic- just as anywhere else I suppose. In Egypt, however, this is simply not allowed! From nowhere a huge bloke, employed I think by the club started running among the supporters and, in traditional sergeant major style both insulted them (pretty sure I recognized the Arabic for “dumb beasts”) and exhorted them to get singing. At once everyone started singing and cheering again! I wondered what this guy could achieve at the Molineux!

As the game headed towards a draw, Al Ahly’s star player, Mohammed Abou Trika, who had just returned from injury, came onto the pitch. This seemed to unsettle the Ivorians as they fairly quickly managed to concede the first goal of the game- a messy, scrambled affair. With five minutes to go, Abou Trika capitalized on a goalkeeper error to make the score 2-0. The ref eventually blew for full time and the crowd went wild- Al Ahly, once again were through to the semi finals, to play al Ittihad of Libya.

As we trooped out of the ground, my Egyptian friends kept reminding me of how wonderful Al Ahly were, conveniently forgetting, as any good fan should, that for most of the match they were actually rubbish!

What an experience. The match itself was pretty poor but then that was not the point. Walking to the ground, bantering with other fans, singing football chants were things I’d really missed since I was last at Molineux. On the other hand being in a stadium which, even though only half full still had over 50,000 watching meant an atmosphere I’d never experienced before. The best bits- the fireworks, drums, standing on the seats etc- which have now been banned in the UK led to a football experience you’d never find at St James Park, Old Trafford or even Molineux- and all for three quid!

Cairo Jazz and Rohan's Soul

I admit there has been something of a delay in updating this blog. This has nothing to do with diminishing enthusiasm and more to do with the fact that, on the work front at least, the last couple of weeks have been incredibly boring and quiet. Frankly, I’ve been waiting for something to happen that I can write about!

On the home front all is well. Rohan in particular seems to be growing fast and appears to be finding hidden spiritual depths. His spiritual journey has started with Buddhism- the little guy seems to be following in his father’s footsteps and has taken quite an interest in my Buddha statue. Sadly, rather than pondering the meaning of the dharma, he has taken to playing “gimme five” with the outstretched hand of Buddha! Well I guess Buddha won’t mind all that much and probably prefers this more street cred alternative to “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear” that Rohan was trying before!



Just as we thought Rohan was looking eastwards, he now shows signs of following the Christian path (not a surprise given his daily visits to nursery at the local church I suppose!) We found Rohan sitting in his buggy, hands together in prayer saying “let’s be quiet for a minute and pray!”. He rounded off his imaginary service a few seconds later with “Amen” and then “well done!”

Socially, things have been good in Maadi. A new batch of arrivals are now esconced and seem quite nice- it will be sad to leave before we become good friends with them. Last Saturday we went off to the Cairo Jazz Club with our friends Daniel and Janice. The club was great. Once inside, it seemed just like the average UK club- a bit dark and dingy but alright- we had a bit of a problem getting seated as the club was convinced we hadn’t reserved. It took the doorman to introduce a bit of common sense to the waiter (now that’s something you don’t find at home) by pointing out that the club was empty so getting seated shouldn’t be a problem. Anyway, the food was alright, there were decent, cheap drinks, the typical atmospheric smoke (which is now a thing of the past in the UK I hear) and good music. However, being Cairo, something had to be a bit wrong- things are never quite spot on here. Although it did not detract from the evening one little bit, it did seem a bit odd that we did not hear a single note of jazz music- dance, hiphop a bit of world music- jazz however seemed to be totally inappropriate for the venue- genius!

Things are gathering pace on the house move front. We’ve had a few removal companies visit and have received some quotes- glad I’m not paying for this! Tonight we start the injections- Hep A and B to start with then onto the exciting stuff (Typhoid, Yellow Fever, Rabies etc). We’re also in the process of getting rid of stuff- there’s a waiting list (unsurprisingly) for the pool table, likely takers for potted plants, curtains and huge pot things we have in the living room. On a bigger scale our tax manager has just offered to buy our (as yet unbuilt) apartment in Ain Sukhna! Although a Red Sea apartment would be nice to have, I can’t help but think that once in Tanzania we’ll not be seeing too much of it. Fun job for the weekend is to triage the store room- expat life is so fun and glam isn’t it!!

Soma is off tonight to the Khan el Khalili with our neighbour Anu (also Bengali). She and her family are also leaving Cairo and she wants one last visit. The Khan is famous for its shops and the vendors normally fleece the tourists something rotten. I can’t help but imagine they will turn slightly pale after any time haggling with those two particular Bengali ladies!

Anyway, I’m still not sure when we’re going to leave yet. We have a look see visit planned for September some time but need to get sorted on key things like the leaving party! One final bash on the roof is something we’re definitely looking forward to.

Where Next? Clarity at Last!

So what has happened with us since last posting? A fair amount, to be honest. We’ve travelled a bit, earned my Granddad a fiver and managed to find a creepy crawly that Kieran isn’t scared of.

I guess the most important news relates to our immediate future and specifically where that future lies. This has now become much more solid. Late last week Soma and I headed to Amsterdam for what was ostensibly a budget review meeting but ended up being a meeting to decide where my next assignment would be and a chance to do some tourism and shopping.

Firstly, a bit about Amsterdam- what a place! We were lucky enough to be staying in the Dylan Hotel (see below for a link if you fancy a go)

http://www.slh.com/netherlands/amsterdam/hotel_amsbla.html

a small but excellent place on the Keizersgracht right in the centre of Amsterdam. It was a bit pricey, so it’s probably not somewhere you’d spend a week. However, for a couple of days of top notch accommodation I’d definitely recommend it.

As for Amsterdam itself, well maybe I’ve spent too much time in hot dusty third world capitals but this place was fantastic. Due largely to the fact that most people were either walking or on bikes as opposed to driving, the city was clean, peaceful and quiet- you could hear a pin drop! Walking around, it was so easy to imagine this place in its prime several centuries back, with small ships unloading onto small canalside warehouses. The architecture remains more or less intact. The Dutch seemed to have perfected the idea of maximising ground space by building upwards- something developed by future inhabitants of New Amsterdam it seems! Anyway, Amsterdam definitely goes alongside Geneva onto the list of retirement locations!

The budget stuff got dealt with in the blink of an eye and we then got down to the real business in hand. I had a short talk in the courtyard of the Dylan with our VP of Operations about the kind of role and package that was on offer at Songas. What I heard settled in my mind that Tanzania was the place to go. With Soma’s blessing, I confirmed that I’d accept the role and there we were- off to Tanzania as soon as Sidi Krir gets sold. Granddad officially wins his bet and is now owed a fiver! Hopefully we’ll be in Dar es Salaam by the end of the year- maybe sooner, maybe later, who knows. Although you can’t tell with these things, I’m hopeful that this will be a good three to four year assignment giving the boys a bit of stability as they start school.

Soma and I then spent a couple of hours talking to my likely new boss in which he gave us some useful pointers on Tanzania. Houses are big and good value for money, there is an area like Maadi (called the Msasani Peninsula) where most expats live, crime happens but is not too bad, they drive on the left etc etc etc. I guess we now need to get cracking on organising the move. Since the move date won’t be known until Sidi Krir gets sold, the actual move will be at very short notice. We need to sort things like removal firms, inoculations, leaving parties etc well in advance- Soma does so like a project to get on with!!

So back in Cairo how are things? Well, in a nutshell it is ridiculously hot and dry. Daytime temperatures are well into the mid forties, so nobody really does anything outside. All those lovely Maadi flowers that Soma eulogised about have long since been scorched away. Most expats have headed to Europe for the summer and any Egyptian with sense has fled for the north coast. August is a very quiet month here in Cairo- very little work is done since nobody is actually here. Good news is that at least the traffic is lighter- getting to work is just a 25 minute drive now! At home the boys are well. Kieran encountered a tiny newborn house lizard in the bathroom last night- clear coloured and no more than an inch long. Being on the seventh floor we are spared the scorpions and snakes that some of the villas get (our office in Dokki revealed itself to be the home of five snakes last year, including a four foot cobra in the filing room!). The occasional cockroach or house lizard is more or less it for us. Amazingly for someone so squeamish, Kieran looked at it curiously and pronounced it “very cute”. Perhaps there is hope for him in Africa after all!

Of Weddings and Pyramids

So, just to make sure the prediction made at the end of the last posting does not come true, here is an update from sunny Cairo! All has been fairly quiet on the work front. This is mainly due to a very civilised four day weekend brought about largely by Revolution Day- the annual commemoration of Nasser's coming to power in the 1950's. As a patriotic Brit, with a reasonable grasp of history and, in particular, the Suez crisis, I'm not sure how much I should be celebrating that particular revolution. However, I'm one of "Maggie's Children" and am therefore genetically programmed to think mainly of myself. If Nasser's coming to power means I get a quiet morning sipping Latte's in Cafe Greco then good on the old boy I say!


Anyway, what has happened since I last posted? Well, as the title suggests, there has been a marriage amongst us! Our very good friends, Janice and Daniel decided to tie the knot and, after much running around embassies and ministries, finally did it. If I imagine the bureaucratic grief we go through to do the most simple things here in Egypt, my hat goes off to the intrepid twosome in their ultimately successful efforts to get hitched! To celebrate their union, we held a small party in their honour at our house- ten or so guests and a very sweet bellydancer who goes by the exotic and entrancing name of Lorna!

I have to say, she was great. Although she's not Egyptian (she's Scottish actually!), she is very good at what she does and, almost uniquely among belly dancers here, actually looks like she's enjoying herself! I have to say Janice put on a good show of dancing too- especially as she's still on the road to recovery from a major car crash which seemed to have broken or bruised almost every bone in the girl's body!

Anyway, after a bit of a dance and lots of food, we cracked open the champagne and headed up onto the roof- it does get tolerably cool up there after about 9pm! We'll definitely miss that roof terrace when we leave- when it's not blazing hot (through summer) or blowing a gale (through khamseen) it is a profoundly beautiful place with some of the best views of Cairo we could have wished for.

What else? Well apart from numerous visits to Road 9 for shopping and coffee (I was quite impressed to find the new Harry Potter released in Cairo too. Soma said it was too expensive and we could wait until we go back home and buy it from Asda. I saved even more money by logging onto Wikipedia and finding out the whole plotline for free!), we figured we'd better get a bit of last minute tourism done, so headed for the pyramids yesterday. Yes, I know we've been here nearly three years- I have actually seen the things hundreds of times since every Tom Dick and Harry who heads here "on business" seems to want to go see them! However, the boys have only visited once previously and that had to be cut short when Kieran got sick all over the Pyramid of Cheops! So, at 8.30 yesterday morning, we all clambered into the car and headed to Giza. Half an hour later we were there armed with water, small boys and a camera. After a brief interlude with a tout who had mustered up the courage to try sell Soma something(I saved him getting hit at great personal risk but was shocked by the sort of local Arabic vocabulary she has picked up!) we headed round two of the Pyramids then down to the Sphinx. Kieran then pronounced himself hot- to be fair it was 36C at only 10.30am and he had been good- so off we headed to Wadi Digla club to go swimming!! Anyway, below is a pic of Soma and the boys next to Cheops (Chephren is in the background).

One final piece of news. although I'm vegetarian so am not directly affected by this, I can't help feeling a small bit of local pride at the fact that our local burger bar, just down on Road 9, is apparently the best in the world- go take a look for yourselves if you don't believe it!

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1639839,00.html

Anyway, that's all for now- hopefully we'll have more news next week. I'm off to Amsterdam to meet with some colleagues and should be slightly more certain of where we're off to next. At the very least I'll be able to buy myself a decent camera!