If I think about my last trip in Tanzania, it reminds me of the book “on the road”.. not for the contents, but for the rythm..
crazy and compulsive! hours and hours on buses, minibuses, cars, motorbikes, going and going, up and downhill, and then sleeping or not sleeping, and meeting people and leaving .. It cannot be told, at the third time I was telling it to a friend, I was always saying the same things, and another friend listening to it for the third time got really bored.. yes, because you can’t make the other people feel what you felt! they should have been there..
or I could write an exceptional post painting my trip like an impressionist artist, so that it wouldn’t look like a list of buses taken and kilometers done, but as a mixture of coulors, red, yellow, gree, blue, grey,…….. and of sounds, tanzamusic, bumps of the road, hens, muslim prey, swahili talk, silence,…………. and of faces of all the people I met,……… and of food, sodas, bomas, bandas and iron sheet hut, baobab trees, acacias, shrubs, tropical forest, bananas, mangos, fish..and elephants, lions, leopards, crocodile, hyppos..
Everything is in my mind, something in the pictures, I should start painting my collage..
— One of the few relaxing moments–