Could I handle today’s Dar es Salaam?

Karimjee Jivanjee Office Building: Photo courtesy: Planning Unit University College London — Wikimedia Commons

There’s a difference between the Dar I remember, and the one I find on line. Many of the old buildings are demolished, and I stare at a photo trying to place where the picture fits into the map of Dar I hold in my head.

A year before I came to the coastal town, I spent a week in Bali. Kuta Beach had a dirt track leading to the ocean. There were no hotels so I rented a room in a local family’s house. Only traditional Balinese food was available.

A small haven on the Con Dao Islands

Con Son on the main island, had instant appeal. Tree lined streets shaded French style bungalows where only the occasional sound of traffic was heard.

What did you ask?

With the trip through Java to Bali over, there was no more of my daughter counting down the days till our return. I thought she’d never want to leave Australia again.

Last stop – Sanur Beach

I was glad I chose to stay in Bali’s Sanur Beach because it hadn’t reached the tourist fever pitch of Kuta.

Saved by a banana in Bali’s monkey forest

The things we do for children. I’m sorry, monkey lovers, these animals do nothing for me, but the thought of going into a monkey forest was a dream come true for my ten year old.

Back to Bali

From Probolinggo, we took a scenic bus ride east, ferried across to Bali and down the coast to Depasar before we arrived at Sanur Beach after dark, our last stop.

Eastern Java’s Probolinggo

We took a grueling nine-hour train journey to Probolinggo, seven of which were without a seat. Sitting on our backpacks near a door, we willed the hours to pass. When we did arrive in the small town, it was after dark.

Bali before the tourist invasion

Below I spied no buildings, only coconut palms. I asked myself from the aeroplane window, what had I done? This was my first trip out of Australia, so like the vista below, I was green.

First encounter with India

My Air India flight arrived from Singapore at something like two in the morning. Like a lost lamb, I edged my way through the chaos of coolies and taxi drivers badgering for business.

After I slunk into the back of a wonky taxi seat, the driver whizzed through the darkened Chennai streets.

An ache for India

Sailing towards Kenya on the calm Arabian Sea, I knew I’d return to India one day. The country left its mark on me.