Squiffy had a really authentic local experience the other day. We reached Morogoro bus station and we needed to buy tickets for our onward journey. Doing this whilst wearing our backpacks makes us obvious targets for the inevitable touts, so instead we have devised a cunning system to increase our agility and reduce our exposure to these annoying lot: Squiffy and bags take refuge at nearby cafe whilst I set-off alone in search of the tickets. You can probably imagine that buying the right ticket, from a real company, is a bit of a minefield over here and the whole process seldom takes less than an hour.

Upon return from the successful procurement of tickets, I was delighted to find that Squiffy had apparently made friends with some local women, who were excitedly flicking through the English-to-Swahili chapter in our Lonely Planet guide book and giggling their way through various useful phrases. How nice, an impromptu Swahili lesson, I thought. I joined the table and waited for the ladies to finish the chapter before suggesting we re-instate our backpacks and search for a bed for the night.

As we stood-up, the local ladies’ arms fell open-palmed to the table and one chimed, “give me money”. Ahh, an authentic experience indeed.