Breakfast was a rather odd mix of offerings and we chose to ignore the banana curry, toasted sandwiches and last night's left over spaghetti... After being told that we were required to change rooms, Charlie and I decided to try and decontaminate our bags of red dust which involved a cloth, a hose and more patience than I was willing to donate that early in the morning. After Bob noticed the grumpy cleaner with her hands in another guest's unattended handbag we decided to lock all of our valuables in the beautifully cleaned drybag before heading into town to try and organise the next few days.

We walked the 2km to the centre, following dusty roads and past all manner of local businesses, trying to ignore the butchers shop. Our first stop at the airline office was a roaring success and thanks to the efficient ladies we left with our tickets within 15 minutes. A Tanzanian novelty. Next stop was the port where we came to within 50 yards of the infamous MV Liemba, which circumnavigates Lake Tanganyika every other week, but sadly not this week. We were all gutted but it hit Charlie hardest and he put a brave face on as we retraced our steps, back into town to track down the TANAPA park office to see what they could suggest as an alternative form of transport to Mahale. We certainly wouldn't have found the office by accident but the route did take us through the market which was alive with baskets of silvery lake life, dried whitebait and trays of smoked fish arranged so that they auto-cannibalised their own tails.

The guy at the park office was painfully enthusiastic but also helpful and we left after half an hour with everything planned and having sent a radio message to both national parks to warn them of our intentions. Due to the lack of Liemba we were advised to drive to the nearest town to Mahale, a sleepy village called Lagosa, barely noticeable on the map. Charlie and I suggested renting our own Tuktuk but this was immediately vetoed by the girls and we ended up with a 4x4 as a boring alternative to carry us the 130km down the coast on which we had been warned were some pretty basic roads.

We returned to the guesthouse and sat on the roof of the bar where we looked out over the lake and ordered lunch. Seeing some local's food arrive, Charlie and I felt adventurous and ordered the local lake fish and Ugali, a maize based dough which did not have a great reputation. Eventually it arrived and as the waitresses ran off giggling Charlie and I became fully acquainted with why it carried this reputation. At best it was like eating thick wallpaper paste, at worst it clogged your throat and threatened to reappear looking exactly the same as it had on entry. We manfully made it through about a third of the 'generous' lump filling our plates but could manage no more and it felt as though the amount we had consumed would stay with us for a very long time... The lake fish, in contrast, was excellent but before we had finished, the hotel manager arrived to inform us that there had been as mistake and the rooms we had moved into this morning were actually already booked so we had to move hotels... Fortunately he had arranged all of this for us but packing up again was a pain in the proverbial and yet again we questioned their reservation system.

We checked into our new quarters after a short taxi ride with the only slow driver in Tanzania. He carefully navigated his tiny but shiny taxi between the off road chaos and we dropped our bags in the adequate rooms before returning to our taxi to head to a hilltop lodge for supper. Our ulterior motives nearly fell flat as we were initially refused entry to the gated paradise, where zebras grazing the lawns, due to Charlie keenly brandishing his swimming trunks. Thankfully, following a brief chat to the initially terrifying South African resort manager we were allowed through and arrived at a pool and bar with one of the most fantastic views I have seen. It was deserted and we swam and read whilst overlooking the huge expanse of Lake Tangynika, dotted with fishing boats crossing far below.

I was driven back into the pool by large sluggish mosquitos but as the sun dipped we changed for supper and sat back on the stunning terrace to watch the blues and yellows change to greys and oranges, helped by a round of cold drinks. Charlie finally got his sunset dhow photo and the fiery ball eventually set in a blaze of glory, illuminating a silhouette of the landscape of the 'Not-so-Democratic' Republic Congo when it contacted the horizon. The food was almost as good as the location and with conversational entertainment from our alcohol sneaking South African host it was truly special. The lake was dotted with the lights of tiny fishing boats and they mirrored the starscape almost perfectly it was so clear.

We returned to our accommodation and prepared for another early start, interrupted only briefly as a cockroach ran over Bob's face. With that traumatic experience over all I could think about were the endless chimpanzee books Mrs Boulter had given us as kids and the fact that in less than 12 hours we would be trekking to see them in the wild!