Our original plan was to find a cargo ship from Dar Es Salaam to Comoros and then continue on to Madagascar. After a lot of research, we found out that it is possible, but we’d need flexibility and time. The boat to Comoros was rumored to take 11 days and then it’d be another week or so to Madagascar. We decided that even though the airplane tickets were expensive we didn’t want to spend 3 weeks on a boat. Also, our friend Sarah would be meeting us there so we needed to arrive on time.
We were told that buses left Morogoro to Dar Es Salaam every 30 minutes. So we took our time in the morning and walked to the daladala station to get a ride to the bus terminal. The minute we set foot out of the daladala we were attacked and people were trying to carry our bags. We continually said no, but we had 4 men walking next to us as we paid our way into the terminal. The plan was to eat breakfast before we loaded up and most of the men understood this. We grabbed a sit and had chapati and chai while one of the men waited for us to finish.
As soon as we stood up, he ran over and grabbed Tico’s bag. He led us to a bus that wasn’t our first choice, but we gave in as the price was the same. Once we were onboard, we found ourselves in air conditioning and leather seats. It was very different from the buses we’d been on recently. It took almost 2 hours to fill up, but we didn’t care as we were cool and comfortable. The bus started along the road and we picked up more people as we went, but it was a reasonable amount of people as the aisle remained clear. We got a toilet break halfway through and slowly started seeing signs of the capital city.
Our little neighbor on the bus
There were more cars and cement around us and then we started seeing actual city buses. We reached a bus termainal and everyone stood up. That was our cue that we wouldn’t be going any further. We loaded our things and pushed away the taxi drivers trying to offer us rides. Once the commotion subsided, I found someone that I assumed would speak English. I asked how to get to the airport as our hotel for the night was across the street. He explained the route and which daladala to get on. We strapped our bags on and started walking. The road led us through a market and Tico quickly spotted the most important words he’d learned in Swahili, which translated to sugar cane juice. We dropped the bags and enjoyed a large glass of juice while chatting with others.
The mandatory sugar cane juice stop
When we reached the intersection, we wanted to confirm that we were headed the right way. There was a police stand and he pointed in the direction that we were told originally. He offered to flag down a bus for us at the light so we wouldn’t have to walk past the bridge. Several buses passed, but were unable to stop so we told him we’d walk to the stop to make things easier. We reached the stop and waited as daladalas arrived, but they weren’t yelling our destination.
We didn’t have to wait long before ours showed up. I asked the headhunter if they would pass the airport and he said yes. As it was almost empty, we loaded our things and used a seat each for our bags. It was filled to the max when the man came to collect payment. He took our money and didn’t give us any change. We argued that we needed change and he complained that we had taken 2 extra seats so we needed to pay for them. Regardless, we still deserved change so we continued to argue. He worked his way to the back of the bus and in frustration Tico stood up between the seats and offered his seat to a woman standing. I followed suit by setting my bag on my lap and asked another woman to sit next to me. We then argued with the ticket collector to give us change. He didn’t seem to care, but another woman on the bus fought for us and he ended up returning our payment for the extra seats.
Getting off the bus was tricky with our bags and the overfilled aisle. We pushed our way towards the door and had to yell at the driver to stop. Once it stopped, Tico couldn’t move any further with his bag so he threw it out the door while I knocked people with mine as it was already strapped to me. The good news was that we got dropped almost directly in front of our guest house. We crossed the street and followed the signs. It was almost 5 pm and we’d gone another day without lunch so we dropped our bags and went in search of food.
Ugali, beef and Serengeti beer..nothing else needed
We found a restaurant nearby and then walked towards the airport to see where we needed to go the following morning. It was close enough to walk and straightforward so we headed back to the guest house to clean up and get some sleep. The alarm went off before 4 am and we almost slept through it. We sprung out of bed and started packing everything into our bags as we didn’t know what to expect at the airport. There were others walking towards the main road and across to the airport so it didn’t matter that the sun was hours from rising.
Our first airport visit since we started the journey
The check-in, security and immigration were easy and we were waiting at the gate with plenty of time. They called for our flight and we walked out to the bus that would take us to the small plane. Less than half of the seats were full as we took off towards Nairobi. Towards the end of the flight, Tico pointed out the window at something. Kilimanjaro was jutting out above the clouds with Mt. Mawenzi at its side and we were flying at almost the same altitude. Shortly after, the captain announced that it was indeed Kilimanjaro and we watched in awe as we passed by. There was very little snow confirming what we’d heard about the glaciers shrinking, but it was a sight to see. It got us even more excited about what was to come.
Kilimanjaro from our plane
Our 3 hour layover was extended an extra hour as the flight was delayed, but we took advantage of the time to blog. The biggest issue was we didn’t have a way to communicate this to Sarah and we conveniently forgot to give her our flight info. We hoped for the best and waited until our flight was ready for boarding.
We slept through most of the flight and thought we spotted Sarah on the other side of immigration as we waited in line. The first step was to pay for our visa and then we were directed towards the police instead of immigration. It turns out they do the exact same thing and then we waited for our bags. As ours had been the first bags on, we waited for almost 40 minutes before they appeared.
Sarah was beginning to wonder if we’d made the flight by this point, but we quickly bombarded her to let her know she wasn’t stranded. The police as well as the baggage handlers suggested we not take the bus so we negotiated a taxi and started the journey into the city. The road led us through rice paddies and homes that looked like they were in islands in the middle. The traffic picked up as we got into the city and we saw makes of cars we hadn’t seen in months.
Meeting Sarah at the airport
Rice fields in Antananarivo
We dropped our bags at Madagascar Underground and found a restaurant nearby. There was so much to catch up on that we made it back to the hostel without any idea of what we’d do the following day. We talked over a few ideas with the hostel workers and decided to leave the next morning for Antsaribe in search of a tour to the West.
Sarah joining our epic journey
Helpful tips:
- There is an entrance/toll into bus terminals and bridges that have recently been constructed. It is usually 200 TSH.
- To get to the airport from the bus terminal, walk back to the last traffic light and cross to the left. Just past the bridge there is a daladala stop. Get one to G/Mboto, but make sure it will pass the airport as some turn before.
- You have the ability to choose the duration of your visa for Madagascar (1, 2, 3 months) and will pay accordingly upon arrival.