Masai Camp
We got to Arusha after sunset. I had called my Mom’s old friend Pete— who runs a local community and cultural center. We were hoping to meet and crash at his place. But, it turned out he was already entertaining a large group of students.
This meant turning to our untrustworthy companion, the Liar— ahem— Lonely Planet. It listed the Masai Camp as cheap and frequented by overlanding trucks. I arranged for a couple of bunks in a banda. As per the norm, the prices (even after haggling) were higher than listed.
The camp is located outside of town— just too far for a backpack burdened walk. And, our arrival was too late for catching a daladala. That left taking a taxi for the almost unreal price of 500 Tsh.
We found a couple of Swedes to share beers with, mosquito nets, and sweet dreams.
