Lushoto... the Seattle of Tanzania

Once in Lushoto, I was able to get a room at St. Eugene's the local monastery/school - an immaculate complex that did everything from growing/selling their own cheese and banana wine to operating schools and a hotel.

Chilled out the first night, and the next day I set out walking to town. Now, Lushoto is pretty well-known for its hiking – with local trails in the mountains that lead from village to village.

My plan was pretty flexible but I figured I'd take a day hike out of Lushoto into the surrounding hills.

One of the great things about visiting in the off-season is that tourists are few and far-between, which made me more of a novelty, prompting curiousity vs. “Dear God, not ANOTHER tourist”.

Lushoto is a smallish, mellow town, nestled high up in the remarkably green hills. It's pretty and genuine, with local farmers working their plots and then selling at the local market.



Oh, and it rains. A lot.

All in all – a fun place to wander around. I got turned around a bit, and ended up circling the town a ways, all the way punctuated by a stream of “Jambo” (hello) and “Habare” (morning) from the friendly locals I passed on the way in.

Some pretty heavy rain showers kicked in now and again – but that just took the edge off the heat.

There's not a great deal to actually DO, so I started hiking up to Irente View Point, a few kilometers outside of town. Again, being the lone white person was fun, and I had cheeful mini-conversations as I passed (or was passed) by the much fitter locals.



Hiked back to St. Eugene's, and the waiter Mafasa gave me a big hand. I needed to sort out a bus for the trip to Dar Es Salaam. Just like Mpemba, he took me under his wing, arranging for me to get the right ticket and a pickup the following morning at the monastery 2km outside of Lushoto.

By way of thanks, I bought beers at a VERY local bar – and we ended up playing pool against the resident pool sharks. The table was a more than a bit dodgy, with a cue ball that was about half the of the rest, and there were more slopes and tilts than even our decrepit old fraternity table (which I would have thought impossible). The other cool bit – they have a unique local tradition. Any time a player makes a good shot, all of the other watchers will lightly tap their hands on the table as a kind of applause. It made me blush the first time they did it for me – but soon enough I was doing the same.

Afterwards though, I found out about the downside of being in such a local farming town AND a monastery to boot – after hours social opportunities are a bit hard to find. So it was another quiet night and bed.