Two Weeks

Two weeks left, and counting.  The forever blue skies have given way to foreboding clouds building on the horizon, the jungle darkening beneath as their tops climb for the heavens.  We skim over the turquoise seas now morphing to sad grey in our Italian steeds as unimpressed humpback whales frolic and splash.  The winds howl unabated raising dust devils and causing my cheap single pane and ill fitting hotel windows to rattle and trumpet like an odd musical instrument while I attempt to sleep.  One can feel the change of season as the prevailing winds shift from South to North.  Seasons do change here as they do in Canada, but the temperatures never call for nary a sweater, swinging slowly from pleasant and dry to hot and muggy, and stormy.   
    

This tour has been long, and I find eight weeks away to be a bit much, even though it's been broken up by stints in Italy, Morocco and Tanzania, with stop overs in Zurich and Johannesburg.  It was hectic and fun, but back in Mtwara time is just creeping along, mostly due to changes brought about by people I'd really rather not work with ever again.  I'm smiling as we are flying a fair amount but the constant bombardment of noise, either incomprehensible Islamic sermons blasting over loudhailers at all hours, brimming with self righteous and pious tone,  to Tanzanian rap far exceeding speaker capacity everywhere one goes, and the unabashed staring that seriously wears on one's nerves.  It feels like it's time to move on.  Rather than complain too much, I thought I'd share some images of this past tour.  At the top is my vintage leather briefcase/flying bag (Buffalo Jackson) on the seat of our SAR AW139 prior to a training sortie.  Perhaps not the most practical but I quite like it. 

This cool view is from the waiting area at the Tanzanian Civil Aviation Authority's "Aviation House" in Dar es Salaam.  One just has to lean back and look up while waiting to write their bizarre licensing exam from the fifties.

I had to share some interesting East African construction techniques.  This is in Mtwara but I've seen the same on high rises in Dar es Salaam and Mombasa.  Where else will you see electric conduit for water lines, and wonder why they leak in the walls?

And despite warnings about how dangerous Africa is, from the afore mentioned folk making all the unwarranted and unwanted changes, I still head out and have fun.  After almost three years I think I've pretty much sussed out the risk involved.  Below is a short clip of FM Academia, a band from the Congo, playing at the Makondi Beach Club.  I was thee only mzungu in attendance, and I had a blast!