Habari

I haven’t really talked about the weather out here have I; okay I won’t bang on about it too much, just letting you know that’s all, it can get very hot; regularly reaching around Thirty degrees, but boy; when it rains it chucks it down.

By the time we have completed the bus checks, my clothes are wringing wet from the heat, I cool down in the shade during a tea break, which is known as “Chai” or join Neil in his luxury office (really just a room with a ceiling fan) before heading out onto the road.

The Scania that I am using for training, has not got air conditioning, so it can get extremely hot on there, it feels great when we do get a piece of open road and can make good progress, the breeze coming through the open windows is wonderful.

Not so much fun when stuck in traffic, but Hey Ho T I A that stands for “This Is Africa” a phrase people seem to use quite a lot, when things are not quite how they would like them to be.

Cooling down in the swimming pool after work is a real drag, the things I do for Metroline, I’m pleased that the hotel has a laundry guy, who can wash and iron shirts as good as anyone; he even ironed my boxers, how crazy is that!

A funny thing happened to me early in the trip; I decided to stick a note on the mirror in my room reminding me to take my Malaria tablets, I didn’t want to miss taking one.

I was given twenty four tablets by my GP and told to take one a day until they had all gone, they came in two boxes, each box containing one foil strip of twelve, as they were in the same bag I received from the chemist; I thought it would be sensible to take one foil strip out, throw the box away and use that foil strip first, therefore, I wouldn’t inadvertently start both boxes (just seemed a good idea at the time)

On the note I had written a question to my self which said “have you taken the Malaria tablets” and thought no more of it.

When I return to the room after work, the housekeeper had written on the note in a sort of pigeon English: “I sorry sir excuses me, I taken the box from bin of rubbish as I thought no good pleases excuses me”

I thought OMG she thinks she’s thrown away my tablets. I immediately went to the cleaning station at the end of the walk way and tried to explain what the note was all about, things got a bit lost in translation at times, but I got it sorted in the end.

To combat mosquito bites I have been using a four pronged attack. In the room I have the usual plug in device that you all have probably used before on your trips abroad, I have also used aerosol sprays from head to foot, a useful tip when ever you use a spray, when spraying yourself stand in front of the blinds or curtains in the room, the overspray will then impregnate the curtains, it will help to stop the little blighters getting into your room.

I have also tried something different, my local chemist at home who regularly visits India, suggested using Clove Oil, he said it’s the best thing he ever uses, “put a couple of drops on your wrists, ankles and behind your ears” he said, Mosquitoes hate the smell. I smell like a humbug though, who cares; no on really knows me out here anyway. 

I was also told by a driving instructor who works for Metroline; who regularly visit Ghana to add a couple of drops of Citronella Oil to any creams that I might be using.

Well!! touch wood I have escape up to now, but now I have told you that, you know what will happen!!!

Not been so lucky in another areas though, taking some Pharmaceutical products now, the stomach pains have kicked in, by the very fact that I brought these products with me, suggests I was well aware that I would succumb to the inevitable, however, as I write this blog the pain has eased.

There you go again “Awareness & Planning “sorts all sorts of things out”

I’m smiling to my self now, I  was going to substitute the word “things” with a word starting with “S” I thought better of it though!!

The lads have responded well to the training, as I said before; they really do appreciate everything so much. I have seen a great improvement in their driving skills.

Driving faults; really do centre around awareness and planning to be fair, if you’re not aware of anything and can’t plan anything, then maybe driving is not an option for you, it might be an idea for some drivers home to go on a “Manual Handling Course” that way they won’t hurt their backs putting heavy tins of tomatoes on the top shelf at Tescos (other stores are available for Manual Handling Operatives)

I have been driving since I was 15; I left school with some dodgy reports and a twenty five yard swimming certificate. I secured a job as a trainee car mechanic at Borehamwood Motor Centre, the garage, if you use the A1 travelling north of Stirling Corner, is now a plant hire company.

I was a school boy on Friday; on the Monday I was suppose to be a man. I entered a whole new world, what a wake up call I can tell you.  

At the garage; I was given a pair of green overalls and introduce to the mechanic I would be working with, no that’s a lie, the mechanic I would be working for, we are talking 1972 here, back chat was not an option and this guy meant business.

The mechanic gave me some simple instructions: he said “right son I ask you for a tool, you take it out my tool box and give it me, I use the tool and give it back to you; you clean it and put it back in the tool box, how hard could that be I thought. except with this guy barking out his orders like 7/16- 9/16 -5/8 -open ended spanner, ring spanner, combination spanner etc etc, I just got totally lost, after a while it became quite easy though; I could look at a nut and size it up straight away (no change there then)

Any way, on my first day this mechanic asked me if I could drive, I of course said no, ok he told me, at lunch time I’ll show you. True to his word he let me have a go in his “Ford Classic” after Kangarooing around the compound during a few lunch times, after a while I started to get the hang of it; it wasn’t long before I was manoeuvring the cars around the yard on my own and driving them onto the ramps and pits. I could never have imagined then, that my driving skills would bring me to Tanzania.

Anyway I digress. On the road we stop for lunch at places picked by the lads, one place we used was two large lorry containers with the sides cut out for serving hatches, stoves and fridges had been installed, a few plastic tables and chairs scattered about in the yard to sit on and that was it.

The first time I used one of these places; the waiter came over with a jug of hot water, hand soap and a bowl so I could wash my hands. I washed my hands, then ordered some food (I still put on my antibacterial hand gel; I had in my pocket, just in case) 

I won’t give you the address of this café’ it’s not the type of establishment you would find on a tourist map, I don’t think Gordon Ramsey will have too much to worry about, but Hey Ho, T I A

As I am here to work; getting out and about, doing the touristy thing; has not been on the agenda, so I have no real experience of Tanzania from that point of view, who knows; sometime in the future I might be able to return and explore a bit more. I’m not here on a jolly; I have a job to do, so just like home I retire around 10:30

The only other time I have visited Africa was to Morocco, many years ago.

There are a couple of things that have stayed with me about my trip to Morocco, one being the endless amount of bartering needed when buying anything or using a service, from a coffee to cab, from a beer to burger, it became very tiresome towards the end of that holiday I can tell you, can’t think why I have never returned!!

Another thing I remember about that holiday though, one night me and two of the lads were standing at the bar and the conversation turn towards a trip into the next local town, we decide that we would hire some push bikes, head off and see what it was like.

The barman, over hearing what we were talking about said he would be our guide if we wanted and of course we had to negotiate the fee.

Sure enough, the next day, three lads, three hangovers and one guide head off to town on our push bikes.

I can remember the town, with tall slim buildings, all painted white, the streets twisted and turned and were very narrow, with lots of nooks and crannies.

(I have no idea what a nook is and no idea what a crannie is) but put both words together and all becomes clear.

The guide wasn’t too bad to be fair; he pointed out lots of places of interest (some not so interesting) and was very knowledgeable about the town.

We decide to stop off for a cold drink and the guide suggested a place that he knew, it turn out that this place not only sold cold drinks it also sold every piece of tourist tat you could think of (I think he might have pulled this stunt before) the name of the place and I will never forget it was “Charlie’s Bazaar”

At Charlie’s we looked around the shop, if there was anything that caught our eye, it was put on a rug which was unrolled in the middle of the shop.

Once I had enough of this tat on the rug, Charlie and I sat on the rug cross legged and the bartering began, nothing was priced on an individual basis, it was sold as a job lot,

 I began the bartering at the equivalent of twenty quid and Charlie, far from impressed, raised his arms and said “Mr Sir, for that I wont be able to feed my family”

That was a phrase I would here again when I visited a street market in the second week of the holiday, but by this time though I was well versed in the art Bartering and a dismissive flick of the wrist was enough to deter any further negotiations, take it or leave it I said as I began to walk away, they usually took it.

I manage to get Charlie to take about thirty quid for the lot, even to this day I know I was ripped off, it happens on holidays doesn’t it?

My mate ended up spending around a hundred pounds though, among all the stuff he liked was an Afgan coat, do you remember them?  me and the other lad, had to bite our lips to stop ourselves laughing when we told him he look good in it, anyway he paid up.

When we got back to the UK, after about two weeks this coat started to smell like road kill, I think there was a problem with the tanning process; I never did see him wear that coat again.