After soaking up the charm of Bagamoyo, I made my way to Dar es Salaam—Tanzania’s bustling commercial heartbeat and largest city. I rolled into town just as the sun dipped below the horizon and headed straight to my host’s place in Mikocheni, a leafy, laid-back neighborhood that sits comfortably between the city buzz and the Indian Ocean breeze.
I had just one day to explore Dar. It wasn’t ideal, but Christmas was creeping up fast, and I needed to make it back to Kigali in time to be home for the holidays. Still, I was determined to squeeze some magic out of those 24 hours.
Lately, my fire for nightlife has been flickering. Maybe it’s age, maybe it's just a shift in taste. But rewind to three nights earlier in Mombasa—oh, I went all out. I arrived from Nairobi in the evening and had to leave for Tanga the next morning. That left me with just one night in Mombasa, and I made it count. I club-hopped and rubbed sholders with party animals all night long. No regrets. Mombasa by night never disappoints.
Dar es Salaam holds a special place in my heart. I went to high school and started college there, so it’s laced with memories. But my last trip to Dar took place in 2011. I traveled to this city to attend Ludacris' concert at Leaders Club. I still remember that show vividly: more than 50,000 fans packed in the venue like sardines, the bass shaking the earth, and Luda delivering an electric performance that could’ve powered the city grid. After the concert, I didn’t even sleep. I went straight from the venue to the bus station and spent the whole day on the road to Nairobi.
Fast forward to December 2023—no concerts, no clubs. Just me and a soft pillow. I spent my only night in Dar sleeping like a baby. In the morning, I was reenergized and ready to rediscover Dar es Salaam.
My host offered to drive me around and show me what was new. Yes, a lot had changed since 2011.
From Mikocheni, we cruised through Masaki, then glided over the sleek Tanzanite Bridge—an engineering marvel that feels more like an attraction than a road. It stretches over the water like a silver ribbon.
Passing near Slipway Hotel brought back memories of weekend escapes to Bongoyo Island. I could almost hear the waves lapping and taste the grilled octopus. Further along, Coco Beach came into view, and with it, a flood of nostalgia. That stretch of sand held decades of carefree laughter, beach football, and sunset strolls.
Then came downtown traffic—the pulse of the city. As we crept along Bibi Titi Mohammed Street, I spotted the National Library. That quiet sanctuary once flew me across continents, through centuries, and into the minds of thinkers, all without leaving my seat.
We swung onto Maktaba Street and then onto Kivukoni Road, eventually pulling up near the shiny Dar SGR Terminus. Along the way, I snapped photos like a giddy tourist: the Askari Monument, the Gothic spires of St. Joseph’s Cathedral, the imposing Millennium Towers, and the surrounding soaring skyline. Each landmark whispered stories of the city’s resilience and evolution.
When I caught sight of boats bound for Zanzibar, my heart did a little somersault. I hadn’t been to the Spice Island since 2002, and boy, did I crave that escape. But my itinerary—and let’s be honest, my wallet—had other plans.
After a late lunch, and more spins around the city, my host dropped me at the Ubungo Bus Terminal. Standing there with my ticket to Dodoma, I couldn’t help but smile. It was from this very terminal that I boarded a Nairobi-bound bus after the unforgettable Ludacris concert 12 years earlier.