Elton had promised to arrive at 8 o’clock to tackle the latest chapter in the Mercedes’ ongoing battle with its exhaust. “8 o’clock” turned out to be a fairly flexible concept, but eventually his team arrived and got to work. This time the repair looked a little more permanent. Proper wire ties were deployed, which apparently represents the pinnacle of exhaust engineering in this part of the world. Fingers crossed that this is finally the last we’ve seen of the problem.

As a result, we set off a little later than usual for the six-hour drive north to Karatu. It turned out to be one of the easiest driving days of the rally so far. The roads around Dodoma carried surprisingly little heavy traffic, the surface was generally excellent, and potholes were refreshingly scarce.

There were a couple of sections where roadworks forced us onto some spectacularly uneven temporary surfaces. The old Mercedes scraped her underside once or twice, leaving both Tim and me instinctively listening for any ominous new exhaust noises. Thankfully, everything appeared to survive intact.

The scenery changed steadily throughout the day. The dry, dusty landscape gradually gave way to greener, more fertile hills as we climbed towards Karatu and the gateway to the Ngorongoro Conservation Area. After driving in heat and dust and through arid plains, the cooler air and lush surroundings were a welcome change.

For once, there really isn’t much rally drama to report. No breakdowns, no border crossings, no police encounters and no unexpected adventures. The only interruption came just before dinner when the power disappeared, reminding us that we’re still very much in Africa.

The rally itself is beginning to feel like it’s entering its final chapter. Yesterday’s mammoth 600-kilometre haul and today’s 400 kilometres mean the longest drives are now behind us. From here on, every remaining driving day is under 300 kilometres, making for a far more relaxed finish.

Tomorrow there’s no driving at all. Instead, we’ll be spending the day exploring the Ngorongoro Crater, one of Africa’s most celebrated wildlife destinations. It’s a day we’ve been looking forward to for a long time before continuing on towards Arusha.

The alarm went off long before sunrise, and we rolled out of Mbeya at 6:30 a.m. just as the sky exploded into a deep crimson red. It was one of those African sunrises that almost makes you forget you’re about to spend the next 12 hours behind the wheel.

Almost.

Our first stop of the day came courtesy of the local police. For a brief moment, it looked as though we might be funding someone’s breakfast, but after a friendly chat they seemed to decide we had a long enough day ahead of us already and waved us on our way.

For the next couple of hours, everything was going remarkably well. Which, in rally terms, should always be treated as a warning.

Sure enough, the exhaust decided it had had enough and detached itself once again. We had barely climbed out of the car when two guardian angels named Given and his brother David appeared on a motorbike. Within minutes I was riding pillion into nearby Igawa to recruit a mechanic, who came back with us, performed another roadside miracle, and had us moving again in under half an hour.

We then stopped at Jacob’s garage for a more thorough inspection before setting off once more. One thing we’ve learned in Africa is that when something breaks, people don’t stand around discussing it—they simply fix it. Usually with enthusiasm, ingenuity, and a surprising amount of wire.

The road east to Iringa was busy with endless convoys of lorries, but beyond the city the traffic almost disappeared. The scenery changed dramatically too. The lush green mountains gradually gave way as we descended the escarpment, firstly into savannah, then into a much drier landscape scattered with magnificent baobab trees.

At one point, the landscape looked as though it had been lifted straight from the Hotel California album cover. Tim and I looked at each other, agreed that we’d both officially checked in, and carried on through the baobabs, hoping we wouldn’t discover the bit about “you can never leave.”

Unfortunately, our exhaust clearly hadn’t checked out.

Despite repairs in Zambia, Benjamin’s handiwork in Malawi, Jacob’s work this morning and enough wire to open a small hardware shop, it began loosening yet again. We pulled into a petrol station, bought even more wire, and Tim disappeared underneath the Mercedes for what could become an alternative profession: automotive knitting.

The roads after Iringa also reminded us that potholes are cumulative. Earlier in the rally we’d laughed them off. After more than two weeks and thousands of kilometres, every bump now feels like a personal attack on both us and the old lady.

Fatigue also accumulates. Twelve hours after leaving Mbeya, we finally rolled into Dodoma at half past six. Exhausted ourselves—and still accompanied by a somewhat exhausted exhaust—we decided enough was enough and treated ourselves to the luxury of a proper hotel.

It was strangely exciting to sit in an actual restaurant, and not wonder whether the nearest mechanic might also be the chef.

Tomorrow morning Elton, yet another mechanic joining our ever-growing pit crew, will attempt to engineer a more permanent solution using rubber mounts, wire and, we suspect, equal parts optimism and African ingenuity. If all goes well, the remaining driving days are much shorter.

Next stop: Karatu. And, fingers crossed, Wednesday will finally bring us into the spectacular Ngorongoro Crater.

After an unexpected extra day in northern Malawi, we were keen to get moving early. We headed to collect the Mercedes, only to discover that Benjamin’s team had apparently taken the old lady out for a spin. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long before the custodian arrived, and we were soon on our way out of Chilumba towards the Tanzanian border.

The roads showed no signs of improving. The tarmac looked as though someone had attacked it with a jackhammer, leaving craters everywhere. Progress was painfully slow, but after around three hours we finally reached the Songwe border crossing.

As we approached Tanzania, the scenery began to change. The landscape flattened into floodplains, with rice fields appearing alongside the road—a hint that we were entering a different part of Africa.

The border formalities themselves should have been straightforward, but somehow still managed to consume three hours of our day. We kept our patience, reminded ourselves that this was our final border crossing of the rally, and eventually rolled into Tanzania. That alone felt like a milestone.

Almost immediately, the country felt different. Everything seemed greener, lusher and more vibrant. There was noticeably more activity along the roadside, and before long the road began climbing through the Livingstone Mountains. For the next couple of hours it was a steady ascent along welcome smooth tarmac. The old Mercedes dug deep, dropping down through the gears when needed, but never missed a beat. For a 45-year-old car carrying us across Africa, she’s earning more and more respect every day.

By late afternoon we reached Mbeya. It’s not a town that immediately jumped onto our list of places we’d rush back to visit, but it provided a comfortable bed for the night. We rounded off the day with dinner at a Chinese restaurant, which felt wonderfully out of place in the middle of southwest Tanzania.

Apart from the lengthy border crossing, it was a fairly uneventful day—and after the dramas of the last couple of days, that wasn’t such a bad thing. The mountain scenery was spectacular, with rolling green hills and landscapes that often looked almost perfectly manicured.

Argentina and Spain are playing in the final tonight, although after today’s drive there’s every chance we’ll be asleep before full-time.

Tomorrow’s plan is an early start and a long push towards Dodoma. With the finish line now firmly in sight, every kilometre feels like another step closer to Bagamoyo.

Sometimes the rally decides your itinerary for you.

We woke to hear the latest news from Benjamin. He hadn’t managed to source the replacement part in Mzuzu, but he had come up with a Plan C. Rather than finding a new one, he was having the damaged part machined and repaired. Remarkably, he sounded completely confident that it would work.

At that point, you don’t really have much choice. Out here, you find yourself placing complete trust in people you’ve only just met. Thankfully, that trust has been rewarded time and again throughout this trip.

With nothing else to do, we settled down for breakfast as the sun slowly rose over Lake Malawi. The view from La Rondavelle was breathtaking. The bay lay perfectly still, the water shimmering in the early morning light, looking so calm and peaceful that it almost hid the chaos of the previous day. The beach was deserted, bringing back memories of carefree holidays from years gone by—or perhaps that’s just nostalgia working its magic.

By 9 a.m. the message we’d been hoping for arrived. Benjamin had successfully repaired the part and was on his way back to Chilumba. Suddenly our optimism returned.

So we did what anyone should do when stranded in paradise—we embraced it.

Time seemed to disappear. We wandered along the beach, watched fishermen heading out onto the lake, and simply enjoyed the rare luxury of having nowhere to be. If you ever find yourself longing to disconnect from the noise of everyday life, there can’t be many better places than this stretch of Lake Malawi. It’s peaceful, unspoilt and wonderfully removed from the rest of the world.

At 12:30 p.m. came the message we’d been waiting for. Benjamin had returned, fitted the repaired part, and the Mercedes was running again.

We headed into town, settled the bill and took the old girl for a cautious test drive. Everything felt good. Hopefully she’s now ready for the remaining miles to and through Tanzania, although with a 45-year-old Mercedes, only time will tell.

Our sincere thanks go to Benjamin and his colleagues. Their ingenuity, determination and willingness to help turned what could have been a rally-ending breakdown into little more than a one-day delay.

Rather than risk driving back up the rough track to La Rondavelle, we left the car safely in town overnight and made our way back for one final afternoon beside the lake.

It wasn’t exactly how we’d planned to spend the day, but there are certainly worse places to be stranded.

The afternoon drifted by with swims in the crystal-clear water, fishermen paddling past in dugout canoes, and the gentle rhythm of life on the lakeshore. As the sun began to set once again, we found ourselves drink in hand, watching another spectacular African evening unfold and looking forward to what had become the day’s greatest certainty—another wonderful dinner.

As darkness fell, another perfectly clear African sky emerged. With no clouds and almost no artificial light, the stars shone overhead like countless nails hammered into the night. It was a fitting end to an unexpected extra day in one of the most peaceful corners of Africa.

Tomorrow, all being well, the rally resumes and Tanzania awaits.

One of the greatest privileges of taking part in this African rally is that it’s about far more than simply getting from one country to another. Every mile we cover is also helping to raise awareness for a cause that will have a lasting impact on the lives of young people in Tanzania.

We are proud to be supporting the Safal ALAF Foundation, whose mission is to create opportunities through education, skills development, healthcare, and community support. The funds being raised through our rally will contribute towards the Foundation’s new vocational training institute in Arusha, helping equip young people with practical skills that can transform their futures.

The timing couldn’t be better. We’re delighted to hear that the first cohort of students has recently enrolled, marking an exciting new chapter for the institute. What was once a vision is now becoming a reality, with students already beginning their journey towards meaningful careers.

Tomorrow, all being well, we will cross the border into Tanzania and make our way towards Arusha. We’re hoping to have the opportunity to stop and see the project firsthand, meet some of the people behind it, and witness the difference the Foundation is already making. After spending so many days talking about the charity, it would be incredibly rewarding to see its work in action.

As our rally continues towards the finish line, we’re reminded that the destination isn’t just Bagamoyo—it’s also about supporting a project that will continue changing lives long after our engines have fallen silent.

Thank you to everyone who has donated, encouraged us, and followed our journey so far. Your support is helping turn this adventure into something that reaches far beyond the road ahead.

https://www.givengain.com/project/sangeet-raising-funds-for-safal-alaf-foundation-125512

We woke to a phenomenal sunrise over Nkhata Bay before setting off on what was meant to be a relatively easy 200-kilometre drive further north along Lake Malawi for one final night in Malawi before crossing into Tanzania tomorrow.

As we joined the highway, we were lulled into a false sense of security. It was, without doubt, the best road of the rally so far. We started wondering why it was supposedly going to take five and a half hours to cover such a short distance.

The scenery became even more spectacular as we climbed through the Livingstonia area, high on the Rift Valley escarpment. Towering mountains, dense trees, mountain streams and winding roads made it feel like a completely different country from the one we’d been travelling through over the previous few days.

Then we reached the M1, supposedly Malawi’s main north-south highway. About three hours into the journey, the road deteriorated into the most challenging stretch of the rally so far. If yesterday’s road had felt like it had been carpet bombed, today’s had been further aerial bombed for good measure! There weren’t potholes—there were craters, and many of the craters had craters of their own.

As we descended the escarpment, our concentration shifted entirely to picking a route through the chaos. Admiring the scenery became a luxury we could no longer afford. We somehow made it safely back down to lake level, with only about 20 kilometres remaining, when disaster struck.

The old lady suddenly refused to go into gear. Any gear.

Before we even had the chance to call the AA—who would undoubtedly have promised to arrive within three hours—J&A Towing Services appeared as if from nowhere. So much for the stereotype that Africa is inefficient.

We were soon being towed towards Chilumba. Even with today’s events, this was a mini event in itself. The tow rope snapped three times before being replaced with a chain, and we were enthusiastically yanked the final few hundred metres. By the time we arrived, we almost needed neck braces.

Benjamin’s roadside workshop quickly became our new home. Within minutes, Benjamin and his team had diagnosed the problem: a leak in the clutch hydraulic system. The master cylinder was removed and dismantled, while a trip to the local market was made in search of replacement seals. Unfortunately, the closest match was half a millimetre out—close enough to be frustrating, and too far away to work.

Plan B was then put into action.

Benjamin arranged for one of his team to drive four hours back to Mzuzu overnight to collect a complete replacement cylinder, leaving at 6 a.m., returning by around 10 a.m., and hopefully fitting it within the hour so we could continue our journey.

Despite the obvious flaws in this ambitious schedule, somehow we remained optimistic.

Sally (Sally’s Wheels, who is doing this rally solo) kindly rescued us and took us to our accommodation for the night.

We’ve stayed in some wonderful places during this rally, but this one may just top the list.

Perched on the shores of Lake Malawi, this small eco-lodge is owned by a Belgian gentleman and is every bit as charming as its setting. And it has a menu to match! We enjoyed what was undoubtedly our best meal of the trip, finishing with a crepe suzette flambéed in Malawian gin rather than the traditional Cointreau.

The finest things in life often turn up in the most unexpected places.

With virtually no light pollution, we were also treated to the clearest night sky of the trip before falling asleep to the sound of gentle waves breaking just a few metres from our room.

If we’re stranded here for another day, there are certainly worse places to be.

Tim and I keep telling ourselves that one of these evenings we’ll have a night off from the beer. Somehow, that day never quite arrives. Every day seems to deserve a beer or two to round it off!

Today captured the very essence of this trip—and perhaps of travelling through Africa itself. Things rarely go according to plan, but people step in, problems get solved, and unexpected experiences become the memories you’ll treasure most.

Our spirits remain high, our optimism is intact, and we now await tomorrow’s verdict from Benjamin.

Today we left Senga Bay and headed north towards Tanzania. It quickly became the toughest of the rally so far. Calling it a road is probably generous. Long stretches of dirt, corrugations and potholes made it feel as though someone had carpet-bombed the route. At times it genuinely felt like we were driving across the surface of the moon.

Somebody in the roads department clearly has a wicked sense of humour. Despite the condition of the road, there was a steady stream of speed limit signs and speed bumps. On a road where reaching the speed limit would have required either a rally car or a complete disregard for self-preservation, the speed bumps felt like a delightful touch of optimism.

The old Mercedes took it all in her stride until we suffered our first proper incident of the trip—a blown tyre. As we unpacked the tools, a crowd gathered almost instantly, not to watch, but to help. Within ten minutes the spare was fitted, handshakes exchanged, and we were back on our way. A couple of kilometres later we found a replacement tyre and continued north.

The punishment wasn’t quite over. The relentless corrugations claimed the remaining two hubcaps, leaving the old lady looking a little less glamorous. Still, after a couple of hundred kilometres coated in heat, dust and exhaust fumes, a missing bit of chrome hardly dents her character.

As the day wore on, the scenery became increasingly dramatic. Mountains rose to our left while the vast expanse of Lake Malawi stretched away to our right, creating one of the most spectacular drives of the journey. At the same time, the poverty became more apparent, a stark contrast to the relative order and organisation we had experienced around Lilongwe.

Malawi remains heavily dependent on agriculture, making it especially vulnerable to the weather. There are encouraging signs of investment in power, water and transport infrastructure, together with hopes that natural resources can help diversify the economy. But judging by today’s drive, the road running up the lakeshore hasn’t quite made it to the top of the priority list.

It was a day of hard work behind the wheel, with surprisingly few kilometres to show for the effort. We managed 250 kilometres in nine hours. By late afternoon we finally rolled into Nkhata Bay, tired, dusty and very pleased to have arrived.

Tomorrow we continue further north for our final night in Malawi before crossing into Tanzania and beginning the last chapter of this unforgettable adventure.

After ten days, 3,300 kilometres and more unforgettable experiences than we could have imagined, it was finally time to slow down.

The halfway party at Senga Bay turned out to be one for the ages. It came together thanks to a great host, fantastic company and, it has to be said, copious quantities of alcohol. The local beer flowed freely, including Malawi’s wonderfully nostalgic Carlsberg Special Brew, while the more adventurous among us discovered guava wine from Linga Wines. It may not be to everyone’s taste—but it has to be tried!

Needless to say, there were plenty of sore heads this morning. If you’re ever thinking of entering this rally, it’s worth signing up for one of Paul’s legendary parties alone. And if Paul isn’t wearing his trademark tutu by 10 p.m., you’ll know something has gone seriously wrong.

The rest of the day was exactly what everyone needed. We relaxed by the shores of Lake Malawi, giving both ourselves and our faithful 45-year-old Mercedes a well-earned break. Covering 3,300 kilometres in ten days has been demanding, but every mile has brought something new—remarkable wildlife, spectacular scenery and encounters with some of the friendliest people we’ve ever met.

As we sat overlooking Senga Bay, we were reminded once again that Africa has a way of playing with light unlike anywhere else. Long before sunset, the afternoon begins to soften. The harsh midday brightness gradually gives way to warm golden tones that transform the lake, the trees and the surrounding landscape. It’s not simply about the sunset itself; it’s the hours leading up to it that make this place so special.

This evening will be a quieter affair as we recharge for the next stage of the adventure. Tomorrow the second half of the rally begins and we head north, following the shores of Lake Malawi before crossing into Tanzania, .

For now, though, there’s time to sit back, enjoy the view and let the excitement build for tonight’s match.

After several long days on the road, today felt positively leisurely. We set off for the relatively short drive east to Senga Bay on the shores of beautiful Lake Malawi, passing through rolling hills and villages buzzing with life.

One thing that quickly became apparent was the sheer number of police checkpoints. Malawi Police must be one of the country’s biggest employers! Thankfully, every stop was friendly. The officers simply wanted to say hello, admire our ageing Mercedes, and wish us well. Not once did anyone hint that the local economy required our personal investment.

The roadside entertainment continued to be endlessly fascinating. We saw motorcycles carrying impossible combinations of passengers and cargo: goats, pigs, entire families, and, perhaps most memorably, a coffin. Men pedalled bicycles laden with astonishingly heavy and oversized loads, somehow managing to keep perfect balance. It still seems to defy the laws of physics. There continued to be a remarkable number of bars and nightclubs lining the roadside. Even the smallest settlements seemed to have somewhere promising cold drinks and lively evenings.

By mid-afternoon we rolled into the delightful Wheelhouse Marina in Senga Bay, our home for the next couple of nights. It’s the perfect place to recharge both ourselves and our faithful old lady before the second half of the rally. We spent the afternoon relaxing by the lake, watching yet another spectacular African sunset, before rounding off the day with the rally half way party.

Sometimes the shorter days are every bit as memorable as the long ones.

Apart from its disappointing communications infrastructure, Zambia has been a wonderful revelation. The people have been warm and welcoming, the landscapes far more colourful than those we experienced in Botswana, and the country has a vibrancy that is immediately apparent. Everywhere we’ve travelled, it has felt like a nation with so much to offer, and we’ve thoroughly enjoyed getting to know it.

Today it was time to move into Malawi. After the usual border formalities, we crossed at Chipata and began the drive towards Lilongwe.

Our first impressions of Malawi were immediately different. Villages and settlements lined almost the entire route, bustling with activity and alive with roadside markets. Everywhere we looked, traders were selling beautifully ripe, bright red tomatoes, adding even more colour to an already lively landscape. The roadside markets were surprisingly well organised—far more orderly than we had expected. Rather than feeling chaotic, they appeared neatly laid out and efficiently run, adding to the impression of a country that is vibrant, industrious, and full of life.

As we drove through the country, we were fortunate enough to witness some of those scenes that seem uniquely African. We passed people in traditional attire who appeared to be spiritual healers, and motorbikes carrying loads that looked physically impossible to balance, yet somehow did. It was one of those moments that made us smile and reminded us that Africa never ceases to surprise.

At the beginning of the rally, we had planned to avoid the larger cities wherever possible. But after a positive experience in Lusaka, we decided to change our approach and spend a night in Lilongwe. It seemed the perfect opportunity to experience another African capital and see a little more of everyday life beyond the highways.

Malawi appears to be in the midst of a tremendous infrastructure programme, and as we drove into Lilongwe we were pleasantly surprised by how organised and well-planned the city felt. Wide roads, modern developments, and a sense of order made a strong first impression. In many ways, it felt like a more organised version of Nairobi, combined with the cleanliness that Kigali is so well known for.

Tomorrow brings a relatively short drive to Senga Bay, on the shores of Lake Malawi. We’ll spend a couple of days there for the rally’s halfway party—a welcome chance to rest, unwind, and recharge before setting off on the second half of our African adventure.

It was always going to be a long day behind the wheel and we decided our aim would be to get as close to the border as possible. As every rally participant soon learns, ambitious plans have a habit of being rewritten by the road, so a little flexibility goes a long way.

As the miles rolled by, it became clear that this was the most scenic drive of the trip so far. Gone were the endless flat plains, replaced by rolling hills, sweeping bends and ever-changing landscapes. Around almost every corner there seemed to be another wonderful view, making this one of those journeys where the drive itself was every bit as rewarding as the destination.

There were far more settlements than we’d become accustomed to, some of them bustling with colourful roadside markets. Stalls overflowed with fresh fruit and vegetables, and there was a real sense of life and activity as we passed through. Whether the extra bustle was simply because it was a Sunday, or whether the markets are always this vibrant, we couldn’t quite tell—but it certainly added to the atmosphere of the journey.

One thing that quickly became apparent was that even the smallest settlements seemed to have two constants: somewhere to socialise and somewhere to worship. Bars and nightclubs appeared with remarkable regularity, as did churches representing an extraordinary range of Christian denominations. It was an interesting reflection of community life, where entertainment and faith both seemed to occupy an equally important place.

We also had another encounter with the Zambian traffic police. This time the reception was a little less cheerful than our first roadside tutorial. Perhaps they were Norway supporters.

Although it had already been a long day behind the wheel, we decided to press on and make it all the way to Chipata, even though it meant driving the final stretch after dark. By pushing on to Chipata we had positioned ourselves just a short distance from the Malawi border, allowing for a far more civilised start the following morning.

We eventually arrived at Mama Rula’s, where we enjoyed a relaxed evening with several of the other rally teams, exchanging stories from the road and comparing the day’s adventures. The traffic police appeared to have had a couple of busy days, with us not being the only team to have attracted their attention.

As we turned in for the night, it was satisfying to know that another long day had been safely completed. More importantly, tomorrow would bring another country, another border crossing, and another chapter in this remarkable African adventure.

We set off early, unsure of what lay ahead. Unlike the previous few days, the roads were no longer arrow-straight or pancake-flat. Zambia’s landscape promised something rather different, and we weren’t certain how long the journey to Lusaka would take.

The roads remained in good condition, but they were now mostly single carriageways, with a constant stream of heavy lorries sharing the route. Overtaking opportunities were few and far between, so our pace was dictated as much by the traffic as by the speed limits. It made for slower progress but also gave us a little more time to enjoy the changing scenery.

There were more settlements along the way than we’d seen in Botswana, though no major town until we reached Kafue. It seemed like the ideal place to give the old lady a little attention after several days on the road, as she was threatening to shed her exhaust. A visit to Emerson’s motor spares shop soon produced a length of wire and a pair of pliers, and with a good deal of ingenuity he had the exhaust securely back where it belonged.

He also proved to be a resourceful and intuitive young man and somehow decided we looked like prospective gold buyers. Before long he was enthusiastically trying to interest us in his wares. Whether it was our appearance or simply optimism on his part, I’m still not entirely sure, but it certainly added another memorable moment to the day.

We also had our first encounter with the Zambian traffic police after being pulled over for a minor infringement. The officers couldn’t have been friendlier. They took time out of their undoubtedly busy day to give us a thorough refresher on the Zambian Highway Code and what amounted to a rather comprehensive speed awareness course. We left a little wiser, a little slower, and hoping they enjoyed the football on Saturday evening.

By late afternoon we rolled into Lusaka, another milestone on our journey north. We rounded off the day by catching up with an old friend, Yobe. After a long day behind the wheel, it was a pleasure to relax, exchange stories, and finally to settle down to watch the match.

Lusaka itself was a delightful surprise. I’d expected a busy capital city, but what struck me most was how welcoming it felt. It’s a vibrant city with a warm, friendly atmosphere, and everywhere we went we were met with smiles and genuine kindness. Another country, another capital, and another reminder that one of the greatest pleasures of this rally is not simply the places we visit, but the people we meet along the way.

One of the reasons for taking part in this rally is to help raise funds for the Safal ALAF Foundation.

The Safal Group is a leading provider of innovative, high-quality building solutions, pre-engineered buildings and coated steel products, operating across nine countries in East, Central and Southern Africa. While the Group has a long history of corporate social responsibility initiatives in Kenya, its growth across the region has led to the establishment of the Safal ALAF Foundation to deliver its social investment programmes in Tanzania.

The Foundation focuses its work on the communities in which it operates, particularly those most affected by poverty and social disadvantage. Its programmes concentrate on three areas where it can make the greatest difference: education, health and shelter.

One of its first major initiatives is the establishment of a technical training institute in Arusha, Tanzania. Every pound raised through this fundraising drive will go towards supporting this important project and helping to provide young people with the skills and opportunities to build brighter futures.

If you would like to support the Foundation’s work, we would be enormously grateful for your contribution. Every donation, however large or small, will make a real difference.

https://www.givengain.com/project/sangeet-raising-funds-for-safal-alaf-foundation-125512

Thank you for your support.

Today was a welcome break from driving as we explored one of Africa’s greatest natural wonders – Victoria Falls and the mighty Zambezi River.

Breakfast came with an unexpected soundtrack. The constant thrum of helicopters overhead briefly had us wondering what was going on before we remembered we weren’t in London. These weren’t police helicopters, but sightseeing flights giving visitors a spectacular view of the falls and the dramatic gorge below.

The morning was spent wandering around Victoria Falls. Thanks to the exceptionally high water levels this year, the sheer volume of water, the deafening roar, and the spray rising high into the sky made for an unforgettable experience. The local name, Mosi-oa-Tunya – “The Smoke That Thunders” – couldn’t be more appropriate. Having now been fortunate enough to see Angel Falls, Niagara Falls and Victoria Falls, it’s difficult to choose a favourite. Each is remarkable in its own way, but Victoria Falls has a grandeur and power that is simply breathtaking.

In the evening we swapped walking shoes for a boat and enjoyed a wonderfully relaxed sunset cruise on the Zambezi. It was a chance to unwind, share stories from the rally with some of the other teams, and watch the river drift by. Once again, we were treated to a stunning sunset – a deep crimson red, reminiscent of a scene out of Apocalypse Now.

We spotted plenty of hippos once again, although thankfully none decided to chase us this time. Perhaps word has spread among their community after our previous encounter.

An early night beckons. Tomorrow we’re back on the road for the journey to Lusaka. Reports on the condition of the road vary wildly—from a straightforward five-hour drive to a rather less appealing nine-and-a-half-hour marathon. We’ll set off early and, as with so much on this adventure, hope for the best.

The border crossing took around two and a half hours. Surprisingly, the delay had very little to do with the people working there. Immigration, customs, insurance and health officials were all friendly and helpful. The real challenge was the maze of systems they were expected to work with. It was a useful reminder that bureaucracy isn’t always about individuals making life difficult; often it’s the systems imposed on them that create the frustration for everyone involved.

While we wrestled with paperwork, the old girl seemed completely unfazed. She spent her time doing what she does best—batting her eyelids at anyone who wandered past. Our faithful old Mercedes continues to attract admirers wherever she goes, with plenty of smiles, questions and the occasional photograph.

Crossing into Zambia also marked an interesting change for Tim’s interest area: energy. We’ve left behind two countries that rely heavily on coal-fired power and entered one where hydroelectricity dominates the energy mix, thanks largely to the mighty Zambezi River.

By late afternoon we arrived in Livingstone, where we’ll be spending the next two nights at the Victoria Falls Waterfront. Tomorrow we finally get to visit Victoria Falls and spend time on the banks of the Zambezi. It’s a day we’ve both been looking forward to since we first unfolded the rally maps back in Hartbeespoort.

Before leaving, a quick shout-out to Mari at the Bellfrog Inn, who helped organise our trip into the delta. He’s one of those wonderfully eccentric characters you seem to find in places like this—someone who clearly has a fascinating story to tell. We only scratched the surface, but hopefully one day we’ll make it back, sit down over a cold beer, and hear the rest of it.

The Okavango really is a remarkable place. Unlike almost every other major river system, it never reaches the sea. Instead, the water spreads out across the inland delta before slowly disappearing into the surrounding Kalahari and nearby salt pans. It’s an extraordinary ecosystem and one that’s difficult to appreciate fully until you’ve seen it for yourself.

Our route took us east through the Makgadikgadi region and the small town of Gweta, where we stopped for lunch. One surprise was just how much water was still around. I’d imagined endless dry, white salt pans stretching to the horizon, but this year’s high water levels meant there was far more vegetation than expected. The famous pans were there, just not quite in the dramatic form we’d pictured.

The roads also reminded us that not every day is a relaxing cruise. They weren’t impassable by any means, but the number of potholes increased dramatically. Progress became a game of spotting the next crater and deciding whether to dodge it or slow down for it. Our average speed dropped accordingly—probably to rather more sensible levels than we’d managed on some of Botswana’s wonderfully straight roads.

We also stopped at Planet Baobab, home to some truly enormous baobab trees. They never fail to impress, looking less like trees and more like ancient monuments that have somehow been growing quietly for centuries.

By early afternoon, we’d reached our resting place for the night, the Eselbe Backpackers Camp. Although it’s primarily a campsite, we’re staying in its wonderfully rustic little chalets. Glamping as we like it! After another day on the road, it feels like the perfect place to relax, enjoy the peace and quiet, and spend the evening beneath a vast African sky before tomorrow’s next adventure.

A little reminder that while we’re having the adventure of a lifetime and enjoying every mile of this incredible rally, we’re also raising awareness and support for the Safal ALAF Foundation.

I’ve had the privilege of seeing the Foundation’s work firsthand over the years through my connection with the Safal Group, and it’s genuinely encouraging to see its activities now expanding across the region. One of its exciting new initiatives is the development of a technical training institute in Arusha, modelled on the successful institute the group established in Mariakani, Kenya. The aim is to equip young people from disadvantaged backgrounds with practical skills that can open doors to employment and brighter futures.

I’m also incredibly grateful to Tim for joining me in supporting this wonderful cause. While I have an immediate connection with the Safal Group, Tim has enthusiastically embraced the fundraising effort and has been able to call on his extensive network to help raise additional support. It’s been a real team effort, and we’re both hugely appreciative of everyone who has contributed.

If you’ve been following our journey and would like to support the Foundation’s work, we’d be enormously grateful. Every contribution, no matter the size, helps make initiatives like these possible.

https://www.givengain.com/project/sangeet-raising-funds-for-safal-alaf-foundation-125512

Thank you for your support.

The Okavango has been sitting on our bucket lists for years, and it absolutely lived up to the hype. Having been fortunate enough to see plenty of wildlife in East Africa over the years, we wondered whether this would feel familiar. It didn’t. There is something completely different about watching animals going about their business in the waterways and swamps of the Delta. It has a peacefulness and atmosphere that’s hard to describe.

The wildlife certainly didn’t disappoint. Throughout the day we spotted elephants, zebras, gazelles, crocodiles, egrets, African fish eagles and, of course, plenty of hippos. We also had our first sighting of warthogs today. They were a little too far away to get a good photo, but it was still great to see Pumba in the flesh, and it felt like a fitting nod to our team name. The elephants were interesting. During the morning we mostly came across solitary bulls, quietly wandering through the reeds. By the afternoon, they seemed to have found each other, with small bachelor groups appearing in several places.

The stars of the show, however, were undoubtedly the hippos. They spent much of the day pretending we didn’t exist, occasionally surfacing just long enough to remind us who really owned these waterways. Then, at one stop, we apparently overstayed our welcome. One particularly unimpressed hippo decided enough was enough and made a determined charge towards our boat. Our guide remained impressively calm while the rest of us suddenly became very interested in how fast the boat could move. Thankfully, the hippo lost interest before catching us, but it certainly got everyone’s heart rate up.

Days like today remind us that this trip isn’t just about driving from one place to another. It’s about experiencing parts of Africa that simply can’t be appreciated from behind a windscreen. The Okavango Delta is one of those rare places that genuinely exceeds expectations, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone leaving without wanting to come back.

Tomorrow it’s back on the road, but today’s memories will take some beating.

It was another bright and crisp morning, but noticeably less cold than the starts we’d become used to in South Africa. We loaded up and headed north west towards Maun, gateway to the Okavango Delta, around 650 kilometres away.

One of the first things you notice driving through Botswana is just how much space there is. The roads are wonderfully quiet, stretching arrow-straight towards a distant horizon with enormous skies overhead. Google Maps, with its neat little line and reassuring ETA, does a remarkable job of making the vastness of Botswana look almost manageable on a screen, but out here it feels gloriously, humblingly enormous.

Not long after leaving Palapye we passed the Morupule B Power Station and the neighbouring coal mine. The power station, provides 75% of the country’s power. The country sits on enormous coal reserves, much of which remain untapped. Further along the route lies Orapa, home to one of the world’s largest diamond mines. The drive brought home the country’s enormous mineral wealth.

As the kilometres rolled by, another feature of Botswana became impossible to ignore—cattle. They’re everywhere. Suddenly yesterday’s two foot-and-mouth checkpoints made perfect sense. Beef is a major export here, and protecting the national herd is clearly taken very seriously.

The cattle however, doesn’t always respect the Highway Code. Goats, in particular, seem to be both curious and impulsive. They often wandered onto the road with all the confidence of someone who believed they had absolute right of way. One decided to inspect the car as we were driving by and ran straight into us. Thankfully, the goat ran on, the Mercedes was unharmed, and we carried on, though the goat may wake up with a hangover.

The landscape itself is constantly changing, and that only adds to the sense of scale. We moved from open savannah to the stark salt pans near Orapa, then across vast flat plains that felt more like the Mongolian steppes than southern Africa, before the scenery softened again into richer, more luscious savannah as we neared Maun.

One of the pleasures of travelling like this is the people you meet along the way. Whether stopping for fuel, grabbing a cold drink or stretching our legs, everyone seemed genuinely friendly and curious about the rally. There have been plenty of smiles, waves and questions about the old Mercedes. It’s those little interactions that often become the most memorable parts of a trip like this.

Today’s drive was long but not challenging. However, we were reminded that the easy driving won’t last forever. We took a slight detour towards our accommodation and promptly discovered that our faithful old Mercedes wasn’t entirely convinced by deep sand. Within moments we were well and truly stuck. But out of nowhere, helping hands appeared to give us a push and we were soon back on our way - If that’s the worst that happens, we’ll take it. Something tells me it won’t be the last time we’ll need a helping hand before we reach Tanzania.

Aside from that, another rattling hubcap was shed. A barely noticeable cosmetic flaw, and something that we’re happy to accept, especially as the Mercedes seems to be enjoying the drive as much as we are.

By the time we turned in for the night, we’d covered another long day without any mechanical drama, learned a little more about Botswana, met some wonderful people and even had our first encounter with the sand. Not a bad day’s work.

It was a long day, but a good one.