FRT Day 6: Wandering westward

Today would be our next transition day as we continue westward through Normandy. We are getting quite handy at packing up so we were on the road early for our first destination- Utah beach. The most westerly of the landing beaches, it was the last one to complete our D-Day beach bingo card.

It was the beach with the most visible scars from the engagement. Bits of German bunkers in the dunes and the remains of the floating bridges and heavy machinery ramps still in the water. Yes, there was a museum but we didn’t visit. (Point to note: all the museums tell the same story with the focus on different bits of detail. If you are like us and want the big picture but not the minutiae, then visiting dozens of these places is overload.)

Then we headed inland to Saint Lô, a victim of Allied bombing after the landing. Nearly the entire city was destroyed in the days after so the rebuilt city doesn’t have the same feel as some of the places we’ve been. The cathedral- another Notre Dame! – is the most visible evidence of the destruction and rebuilding. They didn’t try to restore it to its gothic glory. But instead left just one of the two towers of the 14th century building standing and adapted the rest. We weren’t able to visit properly as there was a mass going on so we observed mostly from the outside. There is still a shell casing stuck in the outer wall among all the bullet holes.

But we didn’t stop here just for the WWII history- Saturday is market day!! We explored the streets stalls and let Frank practice his high school French to help me purchase more cheap Italian linen! 😬 We availed ourselves of the gallette food truck and enjoyed a light lunch in the screaming sunshine- ham, cheese, and egg plus mushrooms for Frank if you are curious.

Moving along, we continued westward to the coastal city of Danville, which Google Gemini says is known as the “Monaco of the North”. If you ever wanted evidence of AI hallucinations, read some of Google’s AI summaries for searches!!

It is a very pretty seaside town, with beautiful aquamarine water but not necessarily beautiful beaches. We wandered the ramparts, saw the closing of the market stalls (darn – missed one!) and enjoyed the atmosphere in this lovely place. A couple of ice creams – for which I badly mangled my order because Spanish keeps creeping in! – and it was time to head to our new home base.

We are staying in a fairly new purpose-built cottage outside Mont Saint Michele. It has everything you could ask for including a private deck and washing machine. Clean clothes- yay! We are about 1 km from the car parks for visiting the Mont so there will be walking.

And it will be HOT 🥵! The forecast is for a dangerous heatwave over the remainder of our stay with temps possibly reaching as high as 40! And nothing here is set up for that kind of heat, including our cottage. So we may need to change our plans and do less walking and more relaxing… what a pity!

Data for today:

  • Steps: 24,365 or 10.4 miles
  • Tiny roads that made me panic: 6
  • Mistakes made by Google maps: 4
  • Landing beaches visited this trip: 5








FRT Day 5: ¡Vamos a las playas!

Or as we should say in French: Allons sur les plages! Today’s plan (yes, there was one!) was to head back east a bit to Deauxville to see what the “posh” beach in the area looks like – and visit the street market that was scheduled to be there until just after lunch. Then we would wend our way back west making stops at the 3 eastern landing beaches – Sword, Juno, and Gold. We made cooked breakfast in our tiny cupboard of a kitchen before setting out for our adventures.

Because we wanted this to be a chill driving tour, we are very happy taking all the back roads and seeing the country. Well we are mostly happy – except when we hit the *really* back roads with no lane markers, no passing places, and insane speed limits for the conditions. There are lots of comparable B roads in Scotland (except they have passing places!) but when we drive down those roads, I’m comfortably ensconced on the verge side of the car. The trusty and talented driver (that’s Frank BTW) is the one closest to the oncoming traffic and can make the appropriate decisions when cars get too close. Here, it is me facing small French automobiles coming towards me taking up what seems to be more than their fare share of the road! We’ve only had one instance where we had to overcompensate for a road hog but that doesn’t make some of these travels any easier. Good thing my hair is already grey!

We arrived unscathed and headed to the market – one of our favourite activities. In addition to the requisite food stalls, there were a variety of clothing, jewellery, and household items that we thoroughly enjoyed perusing. I came away with a nice green and white shirt for €10. Yay!

Then to lunch! We found a lovely cafe with a variety of salad options – none of which involved fried Indian food items! I thoroughly enjoyed the Niçoise – including the anchovies! – and Frank opted for the Croque Monsieur (because who doesn’t like a pound of cheese melted on a ham sandwich!) Add the local cider and dessert (cheesecake and divine panna cotta) and it was a most sumptuous repast.

Then to the beach! Interestingly, it appears that this weekend is the Deauxville Triathlon- with a sprint, Olympic, and Iron Man distance on offer. So the beachfront had been transformed into different parts of the race which made it more difficult to appreciate the “glamour and luxury” that Google Gemini would have you believe is the norm. The beach itself is okay – broad pale sands strewn with LOTS sharp shells – but not the nicest we’ve seen this week.

Then it was off to the eastern D-Day beaches – lesser celebrated than Omaha and very different in both nature and commemoration. Sword is the furthest east and except for the obligatory museum and the statue of Piper Billie Mullins, you wouldn’t really know it was a special place. Families were picnicking and people were walking their dogs. Everything seemed very normal. The sand here was also coarse and full of sharp things so definitely not a favourite.

Next up: Juno beach – the Canadian one according to all the signs. Here was another museum along with bunkers, tanks, and other reminders of what came before. The beach itself was actually kind of gross with harsh sand and gobs of seaweed and other floaties. Ugh.

Finally to Gold beach which seemed to have almost nothing to mark it as being the next beach over from Omaha. Until we found the British Memorial nearby. A similar commemoration to the Normandy American cemetery, it is a memorial – but not resting place- for every British solo who died during the Battle of Normandy. Outside the columned structure are metal silhouettes representing each of the soldiers killed on D-Day. In the fading summer sunlight, it was incredibly moving. (Lest you think we don’t investigate, the beach was far less jaggy with much nicer sand but not necessarily better atmosphere.)

A stop at a large Carrefore on the road home provided all we needed for the evening meal. Our go-to AirBnb dinner of pasta and sauce- this time with loads of fresh mushrooms- and a lovely Cotes du Rhône (yup, €4). C’est magnifique!

Data for today:

  • Steps: 18,790 or 7.8 miles
  • Beaches visited: 4
  • ATMs negotiated: 1
  • Meals involving cheese: Yes

FRT Day 4: Solemnity and showers

Today dawned cloudy with a threat of rain. Seemed like the perfect setting for today’s plan: a visit to Omaha Beach. Only a 20 minute drive from where we are staying, we arrived at the Overlord Museum just ahead of two bus loads of school children. Yay?

The museum is impressive, outlining the building up to the D-Day invasion as well as the landing operation. There was also a special exhibit on the Monument Men which was equally fascinating. The history and horror of the time can be overwhelming. It’s hard to think of the current political situation and the rise of the far right in so many countries when you are reminded of the devastating losses the world had fighting to prevent that movement less than a century ago.

There are dozens of D-Day museums in the area: so much abandoned munitions and memorabilia put to some use in purpose-built buildings as well as a variety of other structures. This museum has the benefit of being located right next to the Normandy American Cemetery. The visitor center is an unbelievably well curated and moving tribute to the people who lost their lives in the Battle of Normandy. While only Americans are buried there, there is a clear recognition of the contributions (and losses) of all the Allied countries. So moving.

The rain started as we got to the cemetery and the fog made it impossible to actually see the beach – reminded us of the haar in Aberdeen! we took that as a sign to venture onwards and return in the afternoon when there was a promise of clearing. Wandering mediaeval towns in the rain was a more appealing option and provided a few more lunch options. So off to Bayeux we went!

Normally this would have been the highlight of the trip and the subject of a lengthy post as I have had a visit to the Bayeux Tapestry on the bucket list for years. However, it was not to be. The museum is closed for the next year for renovation and the famous cloth retelling the tale of William the Conqueror and the Battle of Hastings is en route to London for an exhibition while the renovations take place. Hopefully that means I’ll get to see it then. 

So Bayeux is an adorable mediaeval town like many other adorable mediaeval towns that we visited on this trip and on others and we were happy to wander around in the sprinkling rain to see what was on offer. We found a lovely café that did very yummy galletes (buckwheat crepes so GF!) : mine had Andouille sausage and mustard sauce and Frank’s had chorizo and cheese. With the obligatory glass of the local cider of course.

A wander around the cobbled streets was a great way to digest lunch and eventually led us to yet another Notre Dame- the third this trip! This was by far my favorite- multiple eras of construction starting with William the Conqueror in the 11th century. It was the original home of the tapestry and an interesting combination of different architectural styles. The highlights for me were the impressive stained glass windows in the transept (circa 1850s) and the gift shop selling stylised nativity scenes for locations around the world. We bought the Ecosse version which has Joseph in full kilt playing bagpipes and a bottle of whisky with a sheep as witness to the virgin birth. Outstanding! Other places were equally stereotypical and I wish I had a reason to buy them all!

The clouds and rain had cleared by this time so back to the cemetery to see what was actually visible. It was MUCH more crowded and the groups of Americans teenagers who didn’t seem to give a monkey’s rump that they were in a solemn place made me want to scream. We were lucky in our timing though as we were there for the retirement of the flag accompanied by Taps on the trumpet. Even the teens were quiet for that.

We spent some time walking on the actual beach, admiring the beautiful surroundings and wondering how it could ever be viewed as a vacation destination with all the horrific history. But the sun was finally out and the calm lapping water provided some serenity after an emotional day.

Data for today – nothing related to D-Day:

  • Steps: 20,129 or 8.7 miles
  • Shops visited: 8
  • Purchases made: 0
  • Meals based on seafood so far: about 6

FRT Day 3: Toasty transitions

Today marked the first move from one part of Normandy to another. Being dab hands at the induction hob at this point, we mastered a wonderful breakfast including hash browns made with the leftover potatoes from our steak night. Then it was time to pack up and hit the road. We said goodbye to our quaint cottage on the hill and the village of Canteleu and began our trip west. Destination: Port-en-Bessin on the Atlantic coast.

But first, some history – the really old kind. We stopped for lunch in Caen, which is not old in itself but has a castle which is. We happened upon a cafe with a very simple lunch menu of 3 items: steak tartare (it’s absolutely everywhere!), a “smash burger”, and a salad. No tourist menu with 15 choices and English translations here! So the raw beef was right out but the other two were on target and with a bottle of cider, we enjoyed our repast.

I do feel the need to point out two things at this point. First, it was HOT. I mean searing sun and sweaty pits hot. The weather apps said it was 27 but the car thermometer and my clammy skin said otherwise. I’m so glad we chose northern France early in the summer to avoid the terrible temps. 🙄 We were appropriately dressed but still unprepared. The heat is part of the reason we chose this particular cafe as it offered the quickest respite from the roasting sunshine.

Which brings me to the next point: what do the French think is the definition of salad? I can tell you that Dictionary.com says “a usually cold dish consisting of vegetables, as lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers, covered with a dressing and sometimes containing seafood, meat, or eggs.” Nowhere does it say fried Indian fritter. Yet today I had a “salad” with cold asparagus and green beans, picked courgettes (zucchini), buratta, and PAKORAS! WTF?! I thought that my translation app was broken and that there was an obvious French veggie thing that was spelled like the Indian fritter. But no, my salad had two (admittedly excellent) Indian pakoras with the lump of Italian cheese and other vegetables. Delicious but the cognitive dissonance was palpable!

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, we can move on. We wandered about the central district for a bit, checking out the other shops and restaurants before a quick stop in Saint Peter’s church. Can’t pass up a good Gothic edifice! It wasn’t particularly noteworthy IMHO so we moved onto the main event: Caen Castle. Originally built by William the Conqueror after the Battle of Hastings, parts of the castle from the 11th century still survive. Other bits date from the 100 years war (15th century) with more things being unearthed from different periods. Fascinating! The chapel of St George was a favourite for the beauty of its stark simplicity.

But after climbing all over the ancient walls in the scorching sun, we decided it was time to head to our next destination on the coast: Port en Bessin was the first village to be liberated after D Day which sets the scene for the next part of the trip. Our apartment is 100 meters from the seafront (all up hill of course!) and the sea breeze was a welcome relief.

We settled in and wandered about to pick up necessities and get our bearings. Then it was time for (more) food. As we are on the coast, seafood seemed appropriate. We chose a place that offered local scallops in calvados and leek cream sauce for me and the “every other seafood option besides mussels” platter for Frank. This plate of crab, oysters, langoustines, prawns and whelks was so enormous, the German couple at the table next to us asked if they could take a picture!

All in all, another successful day! Today’s stats:

  • Steps: 17,385 or 7.6 miles
  • Price of petrol: €1.82/litre (roughly $8/gallon for those in the US),or £1.56/litre
  • Grade of hill outside our door: 18%
  • Number of food items moved between apartments: 19 (not all cheese!)

FRT Day 2: Honfleur is cute and crowded

With our full 1 day of experience under our belt, we didn’t rush to get up and out this morning. A light breakfast of fruit and yogurt with toast got us started and the grey skies told us to layer up. The we were off!

The plan today – yes, there was one! – was to visit Honfleur, a dribble fishing village in the mouth of the Seine. About an hour’s drive from Rouen, we took the back roads through the countryside which took a little longer. The skies were overcast but the weather apps promised sun for later.

The town is lovely- we get an old Annapolis vibe for those who get that reference. We stopped at one of the dozens of cafes along the harbor and enjoyed Normandy vide and moule frites – Roquefort for Frank and Camembert for me. Yum!

Then it was off to explore. we meandered through cobbled streets and popped into the shops along the way. There seems to be mostly art galleries, souvenir shops and purveyors of Calvados- the apple brandy that this part of Normandy is famous for. We stumbled into St Catherine’s church – a wooden edifice constructed by shipbuilders which may be my favorite one so far. Another candle lit – St Anne this time, tres apropo! – and we emerged to glorious sunshine.

A walk along the waterfront was in order followed by a climb up Mont Joli, 430 feet up some steep streets for a fantastic view across the Seine to Le Havre as well as over the town itself. Magnifique!

By the time we got back down to town, it was obvious that the tour buses from either Paris or nearby cruise ships had descended on the water front. There were hoards of people everywhere! Even the simple act of getting some ice cream turned into a marathon event. The travel gods were telling us it was time to move on.

Back to the car, top down, and we are off along the coast for our first quick stop at a beach. Trouville su Mer and Danville were recommended to me by a colleague at work who grew up in the area. It is a glorious old seaside resort- think Victorian Brighton – with wide sandy beaches, cafes, and a grand casino. It was a beautiful place to wander along the beach looking out at the channel.

We opted for a quick stop at a hyper market (French for Walmart 😂) to pick up a few things for a picnic style dinner: cheese, bread, olives, meat, cider and wine. A perfect end to the day.

Stats for today:

  • Steps: 16,717 or 7.4 miles
  • Uphill measure: 18 flights
  • Types of cheese consumed: 4
  • Layers of sunscreen applied: 3 (and we still have burnt bits😳)

FRT Day 1: Unplanned Rouen

We started our French residency with a much needed long lie. We managed to conquer the combo microwave/toaster (still don’t understand how THAT works!) and have a lovely breakfast with scrambled eggs and various bread products. Frank has my blessing to enjoy the products of the local boulangerie and I will not begrudge him the wonderful fresh baguette while I managed with the palatable GF option from the local market.

We took our time heading out to catch the bus into Rouen. The weather was unsettled: very warm with heavy clouds that threatened rain but the disappeared for long periods before looming again. We arrived in the historic city center just before noon to find that most things were not open. Hmmm. In some instances it was a “not open on Monday” issue. In others, it was “not open until 2” so we had lots of time to wander through the streets of the city. We realised there were more gothic religious buildings than seemed reasonable for a city this size.

After touring large swaths of the old city with the squint buildings and entertaining decor, we had lunch at a cafe in the square outside the Notre Dame de Rouen cathedral – once the tallest building in the world. Frank had a Roquefort croque monsuier and tried his first Normandy cider- both of which were a hit. I had a salad with more meat on it than veg and a lovely chenin. The sun stayed out and dining al fresco was just the thing.

We finished about 2pm so it was time to get some history and culture going. And maybe a little retail therapy. 🙄 (Frank’s idea!) We went inside the vast cathedral with the three different styles of tower which makes it so unusual. The stained glass wasn’t that impressive but we did admire the innumerate saint chapels, including the one for Joan d’Arc. She wasn’t from Rouen but did meet her end here and the city has embraced that fact. Lit the obligatory candle for mom (€3 euro version- I hope she notices 😁) then it was off to see more churches.

Saint-Maclou Church was almost more impressive for its intricate and obnoxiously detailed Gothic design. Much smaller than the Cathedral, it was more my style with the post-war reconstruction using much more attractive stained glass options than in some other places. It was also in a section of the city with an inordinate number of “tippy” buildings which increased the charm.

We spent some time popping in and out of shops to see if there was anything worth bringing back and scored one Tom Petty album (“Let me up I’ve had enough” for the curious) and then opted for a long walk along the Seine. The clouds couldn’t decide what they were doing so we vacillated between scorching sunshine and threatening rain. It was thirsty work so we stopped at a riverside brasserie for some cider, snacks, and people watching.

It was during this sojourn that I extracted a confession from Frank: he was struggling with the lack of planning and structure for this trip. What!?! After all the years of giving me grief over the planning and the details? After all the digs about taking a trip and just living in the moment? And now I plan a trip that does exactly that and I still get grief?! Sheesh. We’ll find a happy medium but there’s a small nugget of validation blooming in my soul right now so I’m going to enjoy it in silence…. Maybe. 😂

We headed back into town for dinner at a brasserie directly across from the Joan d’Arc church and the cross marking where she was burned at the stake. Dinner was excellent: Frank’s sea bass with veg and a curry foam was perfectly cooked and my pistachio sausage (not a typo!) and warm potato salad seemed more German than French but was excellent nonetheless. During the meal the heavens opened and the threatened rain finally arrived. It was a slightly soggy trip home but I deemed the first full French day a success.

Now for the numbers:

  • Steps taken: 23,976 or 10.4 miles.
  • Calories expended: 788 – far less than those consumed!
  • Churches visited: 4 – two inside, 2 outside
  • Mistakes made trying to speak French: 1,493 (approximately)

Surprise! We are in France.

No big announcements or photos in an airport lounge for this one. We’ve been hoping to do a driving tour of Normandy and Brittany for a while – this trip has actually been planned for months. But a whole lot of life stuff kept popping up and it wasn’t clear we were going to actually make it until about 10 days ago. Yay! Let the French Road Trip (FRT) begin!

So we did a marathon drive from Aberdeen to Greenwich to meet some besties from the US. After day of drinking, chatting, and pretending to learn about tea clipper ships, we headed farther south through the Chunnel to Calais. Really should have kept up with the Duolingo French lessons!

Then another couple of hours and we are in our gîte in Canteleu, a village on a hill outside Rouen. The drive itself was magnificent- sunshine through French farmlands with the convertible top down. The roads were quiet – because Sunday – and Frank had plenty of time to adjust to the right-hand drive car on left-hand drive roads. (Really need to pay attention on roundabouts!)

We knew France would be basically closed on a Sunday and our travel weary selves were not ready for the French schedule for dining which is late even at the few tourist restaurants we found open. So a trip to the Carrefours City in Rouen for the basics and we prepared a tasty steak dinner with a lovely Côtes du Rhône (the €4 bottle – none of the cheap stuff!) and ate al fresco. Tres magnifiques!

No data for today – we’ll cue up the geek info for tomorrow. Bonne nuit mes amis!

TZ Post 3: The resort

After all the excitement of the safari, it was time to wind down a bit. we did the reverse Cessna trip from Kogatende airstrip to Arusha in the company of two Canadians from BC who were going to be on our connecting flight as well. We landed in Arusha and were met by one of the representatives from the Safari company. Because we had a three hour layover in Arusha and there’s nothing to do in the Arusha airport, they took us to a local restaurant where we could get lunch.

But eventually we had to do the “go through security and sit and wait” thing in the tiny airport again. An hour later, we landed and were met by the driver who proceeded to take us across the island to our resort in Matemwe on the north east coast. The contrast between Zanzibar and mainland Tanzania was obvious even from the passenger van. Tanzania itself is a bit of a mixing pot – 63% Christian, 34% Muslim – Zanzibar is 99% Muslim and you could see it everywhere. I was interesting to see but wouldn’t really affect us since we didn’t have any intention of going outside the resort while we are here. 

We got checked in and shown to our swim up a villa which was lovely. The whole resort is brand new – it only opened in November. And there are some places where you can see that: buildings still under construction just outside the main resort area, construction detritus poorly hidden, missing landscaping, and the lack of amenities that I know are on the agenda such as a gym et cetera. But still beautiful all the same.

Our biggest disappointment? The beach. The sand is absolutely amazing: talcum powder fine and bright white and beautiful. And that’s the best thing to be said about it. It’s advertised as a “wild beach“ which means that it’s not groomed or cared for by any one in particular. It’s a public beach so there’s no obvious entity to take responsibility. There’s a small patch just outside the resort that seems to be tended but that’s it. The sand gets a bit of sprucing up but the water, while bath water warm and aquamarine, has sea grass and a variety of other natural stuff still floating in it. I guess that’s makes it “wild”. What makes it less appealing is rubbish left behind by the wide range of beach goers (largely articles of clothing?) and the constant badgering from the “Maasai” hawkers on the beach – in traditional tribal garb and fake Ray Bans – trying to sell everything from beads to snorkelling trips. The are VERY persistent to the point of being exasperating and require stern NO – or “Nada Gracias” when we needed to pretend we only spoke Spanish. 

However that doesn’t detract from the lush greenery and strong winter sun. The temperature and humidity are higher than what we had expected even with our stalking on weather apps. All of which makes it difficult to get the 10k steps in to walk off all the food! As it turns out, that would be a moot point. After two days of lounging on our deck with our own little pool and generally starting to relax in earnest, we ran into a small snag. Or rather I ran into a hard chair. With one of my soft toes. Which did not respond well. In fact, it’s probably broken given the pain, swelling, and discolouration. {sigh}

So for two days I have been confined to a sun lounger by the pool with my foot propped up. I confess that the forced relaxation is more than I bargained for but is great for making progress on my Goodreads challenge!  

I’m able to hobble around so getting to meals isn’t a problem and nice people are bringing drinks to me so I suppose it could be worse. It will make our snorkelling trip and Stone Town tour interesting. But that’s a story for another day. 

TZ Post 2: The safari

It was a good thing we couldn’t stay wake past 8:30 in our arrival day as we needed to be up at 5 for our next part of the trip: safari in Serengeti National Park. Our driver was being overly cautious though as our 6 am arrival at Arusha Airport was followed by 20 minutes of waiting for security to open and then another 40 minutes waiting for the check in desk to open for our 7:20 flight.  We were the only passengers on the Cessna for the first part of the flight but we picked up 4 people at the first stop who got off at the second stop and then we were on our own again. Each of these stops was a dirt airstrip in the middle of nowhere- Lake Manyara and Seronera – the finally to Kogotende airstrip in Serengeti National park. We were met by our driver Chonjori who would look after us – and just us – for the next two days. Apparently this is one of the benefits of visiting during the low season. It turned out that there were only 3 out of 15 tents occupied at the lodge so we each had our own attendants for meals as well. 

Although it’s only 30 minutes to Lamala Kuria Hills lodge, we took our first game drive along the way and spent 3 hours driving through the bush looking for animals. And we were not disappointed! Hippos in the Mara River, followed by elephants and a solo giraffe 🦒. The best part was the herd of elephants including a baby that was less than a year old! So adorable! Plus hundreds of different kinds of antelope and gazelles. Topi and impala are everywhere. We got to the lodge in time for a late lunch and a short rest in our tent villa. I took advantage of the private plunge pool while Frank just chilled. Then it was off for the evening game drive which was less successful. A lovely dinner and an early night rounded out the day. 

Good thing we hit the hay early because the second day started with breakfast before dawn and then we headed out for nearly 11 hours of driving. We were greeted right outside the lodge by a family of giraffes! We proceeded to spot baboons, mongoose, a huge family of impalas and lots of other kinds of antelope. We spotted a lone female lioness in the grass. But the high point of the morning was finding a pride of lions resting in the shade of an acacia tree. Two male, four female and half a dozen cubs. We watched one mama play with a baby while another mother nursed two other cubs. Absolutely amazing! We followed that up with more hippos, crocodiles, and a family of zebras!

We stopped for a picnic lunch atop a hill just a few kilometres from the Kenyan border. Curried chicken and rice, salad and South African Chardonnay was the repast, all enjoyed under a tree with an amazing view. Once it was time to move on, we started the trek back to the lodge. And that’s when we hit the jackpot: rhinos! Three of them! At a distance of course but our guide told us it had been more than 6 months since he’d spotted a rhino so we were very lucky. 

The drive back was less eventful- our search for a leopard or cheetah didn’t pay out but the day was amazing regardless. A lovely hot bath before a delicious dinner and the day was complete. 

The challenge here was to find half a dozen or so photos to share out of the literal hundreds we snapped. Here’s the winners.

TZ Post 1: The journey

We knew it was gonna be a long travel day. In our heads we realise that leaving Aberdeen at 8:30 to get to Edinburgh at 11 for the 2 pm flight that would take 7 1/2 hours with two hours of connecting time followed on via a five hour flight meant that we were gonna be up for a long time. However, the reality is always more painful than the expectation.

Leaving Scotland really wasn’t a bother: we miss the major crash on the M90 going south that closed the motorway; we got to the car park exactly on time; we sped through security right when we were supposed to. We had a lovely lunch with a couple of drinks and got on board with absolutely no problem. then the small annoyances began…

Public service announcement: when booking a flight on Qatar Airways, if it looks like there’s extra space between rows 12 and 14, there is not. Apparently the seat mapping software gets confused by the fact that there’s no row 13. So we paid extra for seats in row 14 thinking that we will get a little extra legroom for Frank’s 6’ 2”frame. That was not the case. 

Again, a minor annoyance. They didn’t mess up like gluten-free meal. We got a reasonable glass of wine. There was lots of good movie choices. So the longest leg of our flying journey went by rather smoothly. We landed in Doha at midnight local time. My experience of any airport after 9 pm is that you’ll be lucky to see a cleaner with a hoover if you see anyone at all. That is not the case with Doha airport. There were more people up and about in the middle of the night, then there are in Aberdeen in total! The number of flights leaving between midnight and 6 am was astonishing and the number of people milling around waiting to get on those flights was also astounding. We’ve boarded with relative ease but the second small annoying thing happened: even though it was the exact same plane (Boeing 787) with the exact same seat configurations and we were in the exact same seats, Frank had even less legroom for this five hour part of the journey. That the two gentlemen sitting in the row behind gossip like old fish wives for the entire five hours in a language that I did not recognise but was nevertheless an incessant buzzing in both of our ears all night, and we landed with very little sleep and more than just a tiny bit cranky.

But we made it! A plane touchdown at Kilimanjaro International Airport at 7:30 in the morning local time. After slowing down to nearly a complete stop it proceeded to DO A U-TURN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RUNWAY. Apparently, taxiways aren’t a big deal at African airports? We proceeded inside where our next hurdle faced us: my Tanzanian e-visa had arrived in time; Frank’s had not. So I breeze through immigration while he had to wait in the queue for the “Visa on arrival” paperwork. Where the computers were running very very slow. And the card payment machines weren’t working. So even when he got to the front of the queue and he got his paperwork finally sorted, he wasn’t able to pay the $50 (again) for his visa because the card machines were not working. We had to get escorted out of the secure area to a cash machine to pull out enough Tanzanian shillings to convert to dollars to then pay for his visa paperwork (again).

Two hours later, we’re finally in the van heading to our temporary home for the evening: the Gran Melia Arusha, a swanky 5 star hotel where we’ll crash until our teeny tiny bush plane flight to the Serengeti in the morning. The only things on the agenda are food and sleep. And maybe a little time in the sun. We kinda managed all 3.