Its original name was bwaga moyo ‘lay down/rest your heart’, until German colonial troops invaded the East-African coast, allegedly unable to pronounce it properly. Thus it was distorted to its current form. Bagamoyo stands testimony, albeit in ruins, to centuries of global trade along the Swahili coast, with connections to Mombasa, Mogadishu, the Arabic peninsula, Persia and ultimately to China. 
Arriving at my hotel (Iris, in Livingstone/Kariakoo) at 4 a.m after two and a half days on the Tazara train, I slept for the better part of the day. Apart from that, my third time in Dar started as joyfully as the previous two (see here). I went out, happily strolling around some darkish streets, asking taxi drivers about the best place for dinner, and was rewarded with Rissa BBQ. Once again, I was full of joy watching local guests in colourful East African, Swahili or business attire, of Arab, Indian, African or mixed descent, all speaking kiSwahili with one another. As the head waiter greeted me warmly, I realized that I’ve encountered different forms of kindness on this journey. His was a very delightful, subtle one, tinged perhaps by his apparent Arabic background. He suggested I have red-snapper skewers and bread, and it was yummy. Two guys joined me at my table, and we had a great conversation about African-European matters. I love this place and its people!
“We got it all”
A real treat for the traveller – a train ride with the Tazara, all the way from Kapiri Mposhi near the Copperbelt in central Zambia to Dar es-Salaam on the Indian Ocean. All the way, meaning every single one of the 1,860 kilometres, at an average speed of ca 30 km/h – I’m not kidding you. The time table and hearsay suggest it can be faster, but not in my experience. It’s a two-and-a-half day journey, in a four-berth first-class compartment (2nd class has six, 3rd class is seats only, and it gets really crammed once you’ve reached Mbeya near the Malawian border).
After some hiccups at Chirundu border, where two Zimbabwean officers were having themselves a time threatening Chimz because (unbeknownst to us) she had overstayed her visa, we made it to Siavonga, and to Herman the German’s Sandy Beach Lodge. You may have read about it before, and this time Thomas’ house was almost completely finished, and we could stay there for a few days.
Those who know me also know that I have a special relationship to Zimbabwe, and yes, I still do, especially when it comes to music. One of my main aims this time round was to visit the tomb of Chiwoniso Maraire, who passed away in July five years ago. However, Zim more than any other one is the country that tends to create more obstacles while travelling for me, and major car issues eventually let me decide against going any extra mile. Another time!
I admit, I have Romantic ideas about “Africa”. They lean towards pan-Africanism, and as my friend Vuyi put it, they may also sound like I want to take Africans back to the bush. True. My Wakanda has no need for a fast train! So, as long as I can have an experienced ranger by my side, you’d find me at the front of that bush-trekker movement. Having said that, I’m well aware of my Romanticism, and as much as I am sometimes frustrated by what I consider a Westernization of African cultures, I own my frustration and accept (and do enjoy, yes) 21st-century African realities. The MTN Bushfire Festival in eSwatini is part of this reality. If my previous experiences of festivals in Africa, especially at Sauti za Busara (Zanzibar), but also at Lake of Stars (Malawi) fed into my Romantic views of “Africa”, Bushfire was rather sobering – pun intended …
Views of Jo’burg life – two very different perspectives. One textual, for reasons that will become apparent, one pictorial, for reasons I hope will be apparent, too.
A five-minute walk from my home, and you enter Melville. It’s a beautiful suburb, many streets are lined with trees, there’s artsy decoration in the streets even, you find small charity shops as well as up-market boutiques, galleries, restaurants and clubs. Especially around 7th street and 27 Boxes, nightlife is hot as it is a major attraction for students from the numerous nearby residences and for Jo’burg’s gay community.
A long weekend, from Freedom Day (April 27) to Labour or Workers’ Day, so I headed out on a road trip through Mpumalanga into southern Limpopo. One slow puncture with a semi-flat tyre, but otherwise fabulous, and very lucky at the end with an upgrade to a luxury chalet. So worth it! It is one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen on this continent or anywhere really. I’ll only give you some destinations with pics, but see also here for some of the highlights.
Almost perfectly in synch, my parents and I thought they should come here on a visit, and although it came at rather short notice, we went ahead with the plan. Roughly four weeks later they were here, for ten days over Easter. Their first time in Africa. Their first meeting with Chimwemwe. I had planned to show them around and take them on a trip to Zambia to see the Victoria Falls and stay in a bush camp, to see wildlife on a game drive in Chobe National Park in Botswana, and to see Jo’burg and Soweto. And so we did! And they loved every bit of it! I let pictures speak 😉
at Moyo at Zoo Lake, Johannesburg
a new Livingstone?
