In Sickness and in Health

We start the day with our usual Tanzanian breakfast: chapati and sweet tea. As it is a Monday, we also force down our malaria tablet – an uncomfortable weekly ritual that leaves us with acid reflux if not consumed with food. The chapati lady is so impressed by our journey that she gifts us 3L of bottled water, an unexpected but always welcome present.

As we set off it becomes clear that something’s wrong with Ben since he can’t keep up with Lina anymore. The 30 kilometers to Katavi national park are an ordeal for him as he feels increasingly sick. The sudden onset has us both worried and we decide to take a day off at a campsite next to the national park boundary. The drunk locals are delighted to have us.

We spend the day watching hippos frolicking in the river, kingfishers flying about and a monitor lizard chilling on the beach. In the evening the main attraction arrives: Two giraffes cautiously approach the river bank. They snack on some leaves while making up their mind whether to cross the river or not. We silently cheer them on. But maybe they aren’t used to an audience or they haven’t obtained permission from the hippos. Either way, as silently as they came, they vanish again into the trees.

The next morning Ben feels a little better, so we push on. Katavi national park is notorious among cyclists for being dull to ride through on a bad dirt road with the tsetse fly constantly molesting you. As this is a less than enticing description we opt to get a ride – our pride only slightly damaged.

Ismael (our self-proclaimed fixer) helps us strap the bikes to an empty truck. He takes a cut of the price of course. We spend the ride in the back of the truck cab trying futilely to spot lions and unleashing the full force of Lina’s wrath on the tsetse flies. Their bite is quite painful (kind of like a horsefly’s) and can transmit sleeping sickness.

After three hours and 90km of bumpy, sandy road, we disembark and find Jo and Olive to be quite shaken up. It’s always a bit of a risk to transport the bikes and we never get them back as good as they were. A hole in a pannier here, a new scuff mark on the saddle there. The wear and tear is really starting to show.

Still, we’re grateful to have skipped quite an unpleasant stretch of road. Especially so because Ben is feeling worse again. He barely makes it to the next village where we spend an hour on an odyssey to find a room. In total we are being rejected by five guesthouses before the sixth – and shabbiest – offers us an overpriced room.

After serving us rice and beans for dinner the lady at the restaurant returns to scraping the skin off a section of cow’s leg and we ponder our situation. Ben is in no shape to cycle and we are still 90km and 1000m of elevation gain away from a bigger town with a doctor. So, with a heavy heart, we hitch a ride again the next morning. From our high perch in the truck cab we marvel at the beautiful plateau and rocky hills. Open Road (by Roo Panes) is playing in our minds. We are quite disappointed that we can’t cycle it.

Once in Sumbawanga we check into yet another catholic guesthouse – our domicile for the next few nights. Though the bed ain’t really big enough for the both of us, at least we have hot running water and a bathroom door (that doesn’t really close). We set out in a tuktuk for the hospital.

Geoffrey, an anesthesiologist turned tour guide for us, helps Ben to register and leads us straight to the main operating theater. Ben is ushered inside to see the doctor while Lina waits. After five minutes Geoffrey beckons her inside as he “needs to operate now”…Thankfully not on Ben who just needs to get some tests.

The next day we have ourselves a diagnosis: A bacterial infection. A round of antibiotics should wipe that – and what’s left of Ben’s appetite – right out. There are multiple potential culprits. We’re not sure how effective our water filter is, running water for showering, let alone handwashing is often not available and we regularly eat our lunch with our hands. We also often share it with some flies.

So, here we are, somewhere in southwestern Tanzania, waiting for the antibiotics to do their thing and Ben to feel healthy again. Lina is playing mother goose, goes shopping and lovingly prepares powdered cream of tomato soup, while Ben mooches around in the bed, his feet dangling over the edge.