Visa issues

We all packed ourselves into the car for the last time as a group on Wednesday 29th. It was a sad day for all of us and there were lots of tears, especially as we dropped Bex, James and Kirstie off to go to Nairobi.  Then it was on to Tanga for the rest of us.

The real nightmare began the next day as we were all nearing the end of our visas and had to get out of Tanzania.  We thought it'd all been very easy when we got on the bus to Mombasa and set off in the early afternoon.  Its not too far so we expected to be there by about 5 or 6pm, just before dark.  We were going along quite smoothly thinking we had nothing to worry about when suddenly the bus stopped.  The road was blocked with traffic. Something you dont see very often out here! Turns out the bridge was being repaired so a diversion had been created, typically by digging through the mud. It had rained all night making it slippery and 3 cars had got stuck, blocking the road.  There was nothing the coach could do to get through. There are no alternative routes.  Our only option was to get off the bus and walk! Panic started to hit us as we realised it was several miles to the border and it may well be dark before we get through immigration, not knowing whether or not there would be transport on the other side.  Luckily I only had a holiday bag with me but Sarah had everything she'd brought away for 3 months! Still there was no choice, so we got off the bus and started walking.  Of course, to add to the drama, the heavens opened and we had to struggle with trying to find waterproofs as well.  Luckily the only really tricky bit was getting around the bridge. After that we walked for about 15minutes before being picked up in a battered old car. We didnt care how much it cost we just wanted to get to the border as soon as poss.

Mombassa city. What a horrible place!

Once at immigration we had more problems. We had planned on just staying a couple of days and going back to Kenya.  We ended up in the interrogation room explaining why we wanted to go back into Tanzania and discovered that you have to wait until the first visa has expired before you get another one.  Luckily the immigration officer said that as long as we waited an extra couple of days we could come back into Tz.  So off we went through to Kenya, who luckily let us in no problems.  We managed to get a matatu (minibus) the other side of the border and thought we were well on our way.  It was sometime after dark when we started getting flashed by other cars and we soon realised we had a flat tyre! What else could go wrong?  We pulled over but of course, there was no spare tyre. Where are the AA when you need them?  We waited about an hour before a fellow matatu driver pulled over and lent a spare. They changed the tyre surprisingly fast and we were on the road again.  Half an hour later, despite his promise to take us to the hotel, the driver pulled over at Diani junction and told us to get another matatu from here.  We were really annoyed but learned our lesson - never pay until you get there!  So into another one we got, and finally arrived at Diani Beachalets at around 9pm, starving hungry and needing the loo! It wasn't quite the paradise we'd hoped for, in fact the grotty little chalets were not as nice as our rooms in the village, the shower was a dribble and the outside toilets were smelly. But we could hardly complain for three quid a night each.  We were just glad to have made it!

Next morning we took a walk down to the beach and it made it all worth while. One of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen - pure white sand edged with palm trees and the turquoise Indian Ocean.

We stayed a few days, enjoying the westernised food and shops and then headed up to Mombassa city.  What a horrible place!  So much noise pouring out from every shop, car, and mouth! It was impossible to escape, even at night with ear plugs in I could feel the vibrations of lorries and hear the loud music, things being banged around.  Not a good night's sleep.

Next morning we kept our fingers and toes all crossed that the bus would get us safely back to Tanga.  It must have worked! We managed to get new visas no problem and breathed a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately the nightmare wasn't over. Next morning Jo was having a friendly chat with a guy in the hotel reception and suddenly he asked to see her passport! Proud of what we are doing she had told him that we are teaching English so he pointed out that employment on a tourist visa is strictly forbidden.  Of course, we are not employed at all, but try explaining voluntary work to immigration! She just listened and said she understood and luckily that was the end of it for now but its a real pain that there isnt a visa that allows voluntary work. When I saw her showing her passport I quickly disappeared so mine wasn't looked at.  Fingers crossed we wont have problems next time we go to Tanga!