Arusha, Tanzania

When I finally emerged from Baggage Claim on the night of the 10th, only my local guide and a couple others still waited outside. I beelined for his "Julie Hull, Alpine Ascents" sign and explained I had no bags. An amiable fellow, he told me to ride up front in his Jeep so that I could be his captain. He informed me it was 47 km to the hotel, about one hour on the road. How could it take an hour to drive 29 miles, especially at that time of night? Two syllables: speed bumps.

Tanzania has a thing for speed bumps. Even on a straight road, far from any town, just as you begin to feel that you're finally covering some ground...the speed bumps appear out of nowhere. And not just one, but a series of them, usually progressively steeper, until you must come close to a complete halt to gracefully navigate them. Here we were on a blissfully empty road, midnight had come and gone, yet we were still victims of the dreaded bumps. It didn't take long to understand that we would indeed be on the road for about an hour before arriving at the Arusha Hotel. What I did not witness until subsequent days was the total chaos and disarray of the daytime road scene.

After my four short hours of sleep that first night, I awoke to stormy 85-degree skies, enjoyed a buffet breakfast, and realized I would be living in long pants and a long-sleeved tee until my bags arrived. What I didn't know is that I'd be in those clothes for far longer than I initially anticipated.

Arusha, a major hub of East Africa and home to the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, sits below the slopes of Mount Meru. It's a bustling, crowded, energetic, multicultural city. The first couple days we were there, due to some highly unusual recent unrest, the hotel management suggested that we not wander around outside of the hotel grounds. We had plenty of investigative Internet work to find my luggage to keep us busy during the day, but then Tom and I decided to venture out to dinner.

It is common to hire a cab to get to a restaurant and then tell the cabbie when to come back to pick you up. Obviously, payment is reserved until returning to the hotel. We did just that and were told that the fare was $20. We paid it, guessing it might be a bit high, and subsequently found out that the RT fare should have been 8,000 to 10,000 Tanzanian shillings, or roughly $6-$7. I hope the cabbie was at least honest about having to support four kids on his income.

There is quite a dichotomy between local prices and tourist prices. A savvy traveler, especially one accompanied by a local, can get some great deals, but just walk into a decent hotel or a nice restaurant, and all that changes. Sometimes it's hard to feel bad about paying the higher prices; the average family in Tanzania only earns $500 a year. On the other hand, it gets frustrating when you feel that everyone is trying to take advantage and that you are always being taken to the cleaners. On future taxi rides, we negotiated the price up front. For a mere $6, we were delivered to restaurants two to three miles away, picked up later, and delivered back to the hotel. Now that is a deal.

Back to the chaos and disarray of the daytime road scene...Anarchy rules on all the roads, no matter the width. Cows and goats, sometimes tethered but mostly not, graze by the side of the road; a man pushes or pulls a huge cart piled high with green bananas; a kid pedals an old bicycle, toting a friend on the seat; women stroll carrying heavy loads on their heads; a bus spewing clouds of exhaust chugs one direction while approaching head on is one car passing another. Pass on the left or on the right; it doesn't matter. Just off the road, surrounded by trash, sit ramshackle shacks juxtaposed against rich soil and lush green jungle and palm trees. A study in contrasts.

The most unusual sight: minibuses zipping along at about 40 mph, crammed so full of Tanzanians that three or four more, looking totally unconcerned, would have to cling onto the outside of the vehicle. I almost had to cover my eyes. There were many close calls, but in all our time there, we never witnessed an accident. There must be some undetectable method to their madness.