Tanzania Road Trip Through Maasai Country: North to the Coast, and an Unexpected Turn

A Tanzania road trip through Maasai country: in this leg of our overland journey, we get to know the Maasai community in Tanzania, plough through muddy roads in the rainy season, and cross a flooded river. At the end, everything changes with one phone call from home.

The Border Crossing at Namanga: From Kenya to Tanzania

The border post for both countries sits in a single building. Fixers are waiting outside the entrance again, ready to “guide” us in, but we wave them off politely. It doesn’t really sink in, so we have to repeat it a little less politely. That works somewhat. First stop is the police, where a few details get written down before we move on to immigration. As we park, two officials walk over wanting to check the back of the truck. No problem at all. Inside, we start at the health check showing our yellow fever booklets and once again handing over our details. While Miranda deals with that, Raimundo gets pulled aside and asked to take part in a kind of market research survey about our experience in Kenya. At immigration we’re stamped out of Kenya and back into Tanzania in no time. The customs officer is happy we already have a visa, and even happier when he sees we’ve printed it. He wants to keep the documents no problem. 

Then, Carnet the international customs document for the vehicle in hand, we head to Customs. First stamped out, then stamped back in for Tanzania. We’re curious how it’ll go this time. The customs officer says she’s very busy and tells us we need to hire a fixer to handle and fill in all the paperwork. Fine, Raimundo says, but we’re not paying for one. That clearly wasn’t the answer she wanted. He repeats that we won’t pay, the fixer disappears, and an actual customs official steps in to help instead completely free. So the customs department and the fixers are working together.

After paying at the bank this time without any hassle our Carnet gets signed and we’re done. As we walk back to the truck, we realise we can also withdraw cash. Raimundo heads back inside while Miranda continues to Donkey, where three Maasai women approach her. A cheerful conversation follows the women are delighted that Miranda is the same age as one of them.

Entering Tanzania: Arrival in Maasai Country at Longido

We drive into Tanzania, curious whether it will feel like western Tanzania. It doesn’t take long to realise it’s completely different the landscape here is far more beautiful. We drive through Maasai country, and our campsite Killi Maasai View Lodge for the night sits right in the middle of it too. It’s run by Maasai women, and every bit of income goes straight back to them money they can borrow to start a small business or, for example, buy a cow. Milia, the Maasai camp guard, sets up two chairs for us under the trees right away. As evening falls, the three of us share a pot of tea and “chat” using Google Translate switching between Dutch and Swahili. Milia tells us all about Maasai culture. Longido Mountain, the peak we’re looking at, holds a sacred site for the Maasai used, among other things, for ritual slaughter and Milia invites us to walk up there with him tomorrow. An offer we’re certainly not going to turn down.

Susan, the campsite manager, also stops by for a chat about Maasai culture. After a good night’s sleep, we ease into the morning slowly.

Maasai Country and the Sacred Site: Our Maasai Cultural Experience on Longido Mountain

We walk through Maasai country. Along the way, hands are shaken and we’re greeted warmly at every turn. The sun is fierce, and after half an hour of walking we head back. In the afternoon, Milia comes to collect us. Walking single file, with Miranda in the middle Milia’s instruction is that “mama” always walks in the middle we climb the mountain. Then, suddenly, Milia says: Karibu Orpul. Welcome to the sacred place. We find ourselves at a large hollow carved into the rock. A warrior’s shield is painted on the stone, and several distinct areas have been created: a sleeping area, a cooking area, a place for slaughter.

Unfortunately there’s no signal on the mountain, so we don’t catch everything Milia tells us in the moment. We record his story and ask Susan to translate it for us later. Milia offers to pose for a photo with us by the shield we’re glad, honestly, because we’d felt awkward asking to photograph him directly. We scramble back down and walk the trail home again, single file. Back at the campsite we meet Milia’s wife and say a temporary goodbye.

Later, he tells us he’d nipped home to check on his cow and goat and see everyone briefly. That evening we share another pot of tea our sugar supply is taking a serious hit. 😀Milia asks about our trip, and when we’ll be back in the Netherlands to see family and friends again. He looks genuinely alarmed when we tell him it won’t be for another year. He tells us he’s never been away from home for longer than a month. 🤣 We show him how WhatsApp video calling works, and he nearly falls off his chair when Raimundo’s parents suddenly appear on screen. 😀He talks about how tight-knit Maasai family bonds are. The next morning we exchange phone numbers and say goodbye to Susan and Milia. What a special place this was.

Muddy Roads, Bridges, and Help Along the Way: A Tanzania Road Trip in the Rainy Season

A Night at a Maasai Campsite in the Mountains

We drive through the mountains to another Maasai campsite exactly the kind of unpredictable overlanding we signed up for. As we arrive, it starts raining. We shelter under the awning with a woman from the camp we call her “mama.” In our best Swahili, we ask to camp and whether she can open up one of the huts. When it comes to the price, we hit a language wall, so she calls her son, who speaks perfect English. We agree on a price and set up camp. There’s a Maasai guard here too, but this one stays close close enough to watch over Raimundo’s shoulder while he’s on his phone. We cook pilau and share it with the guard and his friend. Another pot of tea together, and our sugar supply takes another hit. 😅

Washed-Out Bridges and Muddy Roads

After another solid night’s sleep, we drive on the next day. Before long, we can’t go any further the bridge ahead has been completely washed away by the water. The only option is to turn around. More than an hour later, we’re back where we started. At one point there’s a serious hole in the road. The track is narrow and slick with mud. Two Maasai men appear almost instantly to help digging sand to reduce the slipperiness and clearing away mud. Raimundo isn’t allowed to lend a hand.

More and more men gather to watch and help figure out the best line through. After ten minutes we go for it, and without a scratch make it to the other side.As thanks, we make the men tea, heavy on the sugar and milk as always, with biscuits on the side. Three kilometres later we’re stopped again, this time by a steep, seriously muddy stretch. The tyers are completely packed with mud and have lost all grip, even in 4×4.

More Maasai appear in the meantime. After some discussion, we’re allowed to drive across someone’s boma (homestead) instead. It works, and we’re relieved to be moving again.

Crossing the River at High Water

We drive on calmly, and after a few hours reach a bridge except the bridge is completely submerged by the high water, with the river running fast. All we can do is wait for the water to drop. Every so often, someone wades in with a stick to check the depth. At one point, someone starts walking across and shouts that the water is dropping. Motorbikes cross first, then cars and small trucks. We watch, wide-eyed, the whole time. Eventually we decide it’s our turn too. Once again, the Maasai point out the safest line through the water, and when we reach the other side, everyone cheers us included.

Moshi and Kilimanjaro: Catching Our Breath After the Rainy Season

On the Way to Moshi

Further along, we spot a car in the ditch and pull over. They’d broken down and slid in while trying to fix it. Raimundo takes a look under the bonnet but doesn’t spot anything obvious. Their mechanic is already on the way. We arrive at a campsite after a long day. The owner won’t let us camp in the usual spot it’s low-lying, and with all the rain and rising rivers, he considers it too risky. We’re allowed to park on the lot instead, at a reduced rate. We eat quickly and head to bed early.The next day we take a scenic mountain route toward Moshi, stopping along the way to eat. The owner speaks good English and tells us he once travelled to Japan, and that his sister lives in the Netherlands. At a small shop we buy bananas, sugar, biscuits, and mangoes. To prove the bananas are ripe, the owner eats one on the spot. There’s no better way to make the point. 😀

A Campsite with a View of Kilimanjaro

We arrive at a campsite five kilometres outside Moshi and head straight for the warm shower a real treat after almost a week of cold ones. The campsite looks out over Kilimanjaro, though the mountain is hiding in the clouds for now. We decide to stay a few days.

The next day we meet some Tanzanian guys at the campsite, and later a Dutch couple, Gerrit and Daphne. That evening we sit together swapping stories about South America and Africa. Most afternoons bring heavy rain, turning everything into a soggy mess flooded streets, overflowing drains. We make sure to be tucked into a restaurant or bar when it hits.

From Moshi to Dar es Salaam: Beach Time on the Tanzanian Coast

We drive on toward the coast. After plenty of roadworks and a long day’s drive, we arrive in Dar es Salaam. We end up at a beach campsite what a lovely spot.

The next morning we finally see just how blue the sea is. We stay a few days and do very little: swimming, eating, phone calls, hanging around.We also use the time to look ahead at our route. We decide to skip Malawi the visa costs, high daily expenses, and uncertainty around diesel supply tip the scale. We turn back toward Zambia, planning to figure out Mozambique or Angola later.

The Unexpected Turn

Then the phone rings. It’s Henny, Raimundo’s mother, and we know immediately something is wrong. Fred has had a stroke and is in hospital. uddenly, we feel how far away we really are. We decide to drive straight to Lusaka, Zambia, to catch a flight from there. Malawi is closer, but the visa situation and time pressure make it too uncertain. So Zambia it is. For the next three days we drive from sunrise to sunset. Emotions swing in every direction one day brings worry, the next a little better news. More than once, we let the tears come. After three days of driving, we reach Lusaka. We arrange storage for  and book flights home to the Netherlands. We empty the fridge, give everything away, and pack two small bags ready to leave. We let everyone at home know we’re on our way. And once again, we’re reminded how special our friends really are.

As soon as we can, we’ll pick our adventure back up. But for now, being there for Raimundo’s parents comes first.

A Tanzania Road Trip: Maasai, a Stunning Coastline, and an Unexpected Turn