The midlife transition quiz I did recently indicated that I tend to give meaning to most of my life experiences. I find that life’s occurrences often have a significance beyond what meets the eye. Many times, the expected lesson doesn’t show up, but that never stops me from connecting the dots—even imaginary ones hehe. You’ll see what I mean hapo chini.
Last week, my band of brothers and I drove abroad to celebrate Davy, who turned 50 in March. We make a big deal out of every milestone birthday, and maybe that’s what delayed his celebration from March to July. It was worth the wait, I can assure you. Plus, it involved traveling abroad, so the planning took some time – even if “abroad” just meant driving to Arusha, hehe.
I always look forward to these breaks with my boys. They are usually a welcome breather. We are collecting photos for our life’s album so that when we are old men, we will laugh and add days to our lives as we flip through the pages of those memories.
Once everyone’s calendars aligned, we made our plans. I was one of the two guys who provided transport. I think my Subaru was just as excited for the long trip ahead, and it didn’t disappoint. It displayed confidence in motion (the Subaru tagline). I left cold Nairobi with two of the guys in my car, and connected with the other four in Kitengela. The excitement was high, but you know, men our age need to eat before a trip. So we looked for a kibanda, and had the best chapo mayai and tea. My sister then called to say kwaheri and, as the designated “bishop” in our family, covered us in prayer.
The drive to the Namanga border was smooth, as were immigration and vehicle clearance. Arusha is about 100 km from Namanga, and just like on the Kenyan side, the road and views are similar. The only stark differences are the many 50 kph zones that require strict adherence, as well as the pedestrian crossings, even the ones with no one in sight about to cross. What would typically be a one-hour trip on the Kenyan side took us more than two hours. We’d been busted for speeding before, and were determined not to be caught by Corporal Eliza again. We still remember her name, more than two years on, hehe. Cops in TZ are much more polite than ours. They fine you with polite, yet deep Swahili, and what initially sounds like forgiveness turns out to be punishment. This is the real utumishi kwa wote, hehe.
Anyway, we got to our accommodation in Arusha at around 4 pm. It was a small, simple motel, but it had good food. After such a long trip, food is the love language we want to experience. We settled in, went out for drinks later, enjoyed some good banter, and then we were off to bed. The next day, we played golf at Kiligolf Estate—quite a nice property, and we felt lucky to experience it.
The next day, we decided to try out a new golf course in Moshi, which was another 80 km out of Arusha. Once again, it took longer than it should have compared to Kenyan time, thanks to the many 50 kph zones. Most TZ-registered vehicles overtook us in those zones, and also where there was a white continuous line. (Here in Kenya, it’s yellow and it means no overtaking.) Since we were not locals, we chose to be overly cautious. Maybe they knew something we didn’t.
We arrived at the Tanzania Plantation Course (TPC) at lunchtime. The weather was a warm 24 degrees, and the property was quite an impressive operation, both in its size and the professional way it was run. We drove through 16000 hectares of sugarcane plantation on a straight, scenic road, and yes, it also had a 50 kph speed limit aki… I could feel my Subaru getting upset hehe. It was a new place for all of us, so we were looking forward to the experience. At some point, even Google decided to take a break, and we had to engage Google-on-wheels, aka a boda guy, to lead us there. That he did, and on arrival, he offered to clean our cars for a small fee. The hustle is real everywhere, folks.
What a well-set-up place TPC is. The clubhouse and cottages are simple yet classy, with a version of rustic charm that I love. I could picture what my cottage in shags will look like. The course itself is a 9-hole flat course, beautifully interspersed with huge, old trees. My golf wasn’t stellar that day, so I mostly focused on photographing those trees. They seemed to have a long story to tell.
After a good round, we tried out this putting challenge that one of us, Bob, had seen on the internet. It involves several guys standing in a straight line on the green, each with a putter and ball, with the aim of putting every ball into the hole. It was a clumsy first attempt, especially because we were all wajuaji and wanted to do it our own way. Bob, with his cool, posh nature, calmed us down and advised that we practice several times, then try again. He had the patience to just watch us with a look that seemed to say, “Is it too late to change my friends at 50?” Hehe… Anyway, the aim was to make memories, and that we did.
After some of the tastiest charcoal-baked pizza I’ve ever had, along with a few beers, we started our journey back. We hoped that by leaving after 6 pm, we’d find the speed guns off the road. And that may have been the case, but the traffic was heavier, so it still ended up being another two hours plus to Arusha.
The coincidence I mentioned at the beginning of this story was travelling to Moshi exactly three years to the day I was last there to celebrate our buddy Sancho on his 50th. That time, it wasn’t the whole gang—just me, him, and my bro who was celebrating his 40th. Back then, we were in Moshi to attempt climbing Mt Kilimanjaro. Sancho reminded me that July 5th, the day we were at TPC, was the exact same day we were in Moshi three years prior, climbing to the roof of Africa.
Remember the connecting dots thing? Was there some deeper meaning to being at the same place on the exact same day, three years apart, celebrating milestone birthdays? I’m yet to figure that out. I had taken two dear brothers to Moshi on the same day, three years apart, on a road that took forever to get there.
What’s the lesson? Maybe the speed limit is there to remind us that we don’t need to rush through life. When we do, life finds a way to punish us, just like it did on our way back home when I got busted for speeding and was fined 30,000 TZ shillings. When we have the right folks to travel with, we hardly notice the speed limit, and tend to enjoy our time and interactions more.
When we find ourselves at the same place on two significant occasions, it confirms that the destination isn’t going anywhere, even if it takes us a little longer to get there. Direction is more important than speed. I was happy to drive to Moshi at 50 kph with my guys for a second time.
Where are you travelling to, folks? And who are you going with? These are more important than how fast you are going. Life is better lived slowly.
Yes indeed where you are going and who you are going with is more important than how fast you are going.
twas a pleasure doing this trip with you bro.