Wake up. Pack everything, head for the bus. We had to leave Lusaka for a place called Kapiri Mposhi, to catch the international train. This would be like leaving Los Angeles to catch an international flight from a truckstop outside Barstow. What the hell, Zambia. The first day was a lot of time in a train station. I was with two English med students I met in Lusaka, and another English kid I met back in Livingstone, as well as a Norwegian girl he'd met somewhere in Zim.
My plan was to head to Mbeya, the halfway point between central Zambia and the end of the line, coastal Dar Es Salaam. In Mbeya I could meet up with a friend in the Peace Corps I'd met earlier in my trip, assuming I could get ahold of him once I was in town.
On Day 2 of the train ride, the luggage compartment totally derailed. No one was hurt, but the train was totally out of commission, and the railway line north was blocked. A rail strike (unrelated to the previous rail strike I dealt with in Zimbabwe) meant everything was even more pole pole (slow) than usual. All in all, this meant a 24 hour delay- on a friggin' train- and I'd be skipping Mbeya. No time; I had to be in Arusha by the end of the week, at the northern edge of Tanzania. I was now on this train for the long haul. Dar Es Salaam or bust. At least there were 5 of us, so we were in it together.
The train was supposed to arrive in Mbeya on the second day, and Dar around lunchtime on the 3rd day. Instead, it arrived at 1:30am on the 5th day. If it weren't for the other travelers, I'd have probably gone insane. We hadn't showered, and I felt like I was covered in chicken fat, dust, and shame. Finally getting to our hotel in Dar (3rd visit to this craphole town) I jumped in the shower.
The water was lukewarm, and the showerhead gave more of a drizzle than anything actually resembling a shower. But it was the best shower I've ever had in my entire life.
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