Another long day

Another back blip

We weren’t amused to find we had another 6.15 wake-up in order to pack and have 6.45 breakfast before leaving on the bus at 7.30. Breakfast was nice - oats, fruit and an omelette for us, though many varieties of cake were available. Dennis was late again so Mr C went for him at 7.40 when the others were getting restive. He thought the time said was 7.45.

The 1.5 hour drive up to the volcanic Lake Tritriva. The caldera (at 1900m) was interesting - we went though villages and had lovely views of vegetable fields and beyond, distant hills. The main part of the journey was on earth tracks with many potholes. We met ox carts, and many people walking or on bikes with heavy loads.

At the entrance to the hill with the caldera we were met by hoards of women and girls shouting, trying to make eye contact, hoping to engage a conversation with a view to a sale of s necklace or stones or purses. The walk down to the little caldera was steep but we were prepared in our walking shoes and I had my pole. At the bottom were some rocks giving access to the 20c water. Julian had a swim and said it was cold. Apparently Cousteau visited and said it was 143m deep. Interestingly the lake falls a few metres in the rainy season and rises correspondingly in the wet when ir would seem logical that the opposite would happen.

We got back at 12 with time for a shower before checking out and then having a nice lunch at a long shaded table in the garden.

I had hoped to opt out of the next activity which was a rickshaw ride to see the station and post office designed in French colonial style. (The French only left in 1960). Rickshaws of both types are the normal form of taxi in the town. Cars and Tuctucs are rare. Some of the men pulling the rickshaws are so poor they do it in bare feet. Our guide said they need the money so though I hate the thought of another human bearing the burden of me I succumbed.

Ari/harri meanwhile had gone in the bus with all our stuff to meet us at the supermarket. We’d all given him money to buy jotters, pens etc for a charity at the next place. By 3.15 we were off for the 3 hour bumpy ride.

We past a bridge that had been destroyed by one group to prevent opposition crossing to vote 10 years ago. A family group appeared to chat so some pens etc were distributed to the children. Eventually at 6 we arrived at the Artisan hotel which was a change to the itinerary. No longer the dorms and outside loo thankfully. We got our rooms and were out again at 6.30 to go the charity place for the “cultural evening” and local food. We had a hot drink and sat around on hard chairs under fluorescent lights in a big room waiting for the performance. At 7 four musicians arrived. There was a flute, 2 drums and a homemade guitar. Then 2 women in shiny purple dresses appeared with 3 men in South African style tops. They sang shrilly (Mr C turned off his hearing aids) and danced rhythmically. There were several songs at the end of which Hari explained at length the story. Then inevitably we were invited to join in. When it was over tables were brought out and at 9pm we were served a tasty veg soup, followed by rice, veg and haricot beans in a white sauce plus sliced zebu. Slices of juicy, sweet pineapple and papaya followed. We reached the hotel at 10.15. Everyone felt grateful to lie down after a long, full-on day. We were informed there would be long days of driving but it is more tiring than expected due to the bad roads, potholes, and the difficulty of finding places to pass slow lorries labouring up hills.