Back on the street, the sun casts long shadows on the thinning traffic. Mchafukoge, our neighborhood of central Dar, is becoming gradually less crowded. Although street vendors of fruits and meat still tow their wares to afternoon patrons, businesses are shutting their stores and commuters are heading home. After turning a few corners, I recognize myself to be on Libya St, the avenue that eventually leads to Jambo Inn. We pass the gas station parking lot I recognize, where all the taxi drivers wait for patrons, then the dusty construction site with mounds of sand and rebar extending into the car lanes. Then there is an outdoor mall, with a cloth store, a book-shop, and a small Indian takeaway cafe. Under the restaurant, concrete stairs descend to a covered sitting area where two Indian women are chatting—deeper in the tunnel is an ATM.
Safari Seniors was a legitimate company, and George’s brother thoroughly answered all my questions about Kilimanjaro and the treatment of porters. Since they were a local company, and that was my main prerequisite, I decided to book with them. The bargain deal of $1300 USD was paid in half then and there.
