London Calling

Taking the Dar Express from Dar es Salaam to Arusha and back was quite the adventure. The driver made sure the bus was full at all times. If there were any empty seats he pulled over a arbitrary goat paths and picked up his buddies. He had lots of friends who needed a lift. So many that he needed them to move forward in the aisle at the various weigh station so that the rear axle weight would not exceed the safety limit. After the check he was happy to move on with without a care.

Flying into Gatwick was like rejoining the planet we are familiar with ... we cruised down paved roads in a new airport shuttle bus at 8am on a Sunday morning ... London in all its glory passing our window effortlessly ... the entire town still asleep and freeways and lanes to ourselves.

In London the history of those gone before is every where ... recorded in palaces and monuments and 1000 year old walls and great cathedrals. I can't help but think that in Tanzania the history of the land is rewritten every year with the annual migration of the herds and then washed away by the rains leaving not even footprints behind.

Or maybe my muddled thinking is just reverse culture shock hangover.

BOSgone