Roaring Through Arusha: My Experience at the Land Rover Festival
After an epic road trip from Kigali, I devoted a day to discovering Arusha on foot. Guided by curiosity, I wandered from museums to towering monuments, bustling markets to tucked-away juice bars. That spontaneous tour became a fitting prelude to the main event.
The festival buzzed with Land Rovers of every era—posh Discoveries, souped-up Defenders, and vintage models that looked like they’d rolled straight out of the bush. It was a celebration of passion and shared adventurous lifestyle.
We assembled in King'ori, somewhere between Arusha and Moshi. After a quick registration, our Defender was christened with an official event sticker—a badge of honor for what lay ahead. We were about to be part of history: the longest Land Rover convoy ever witnessed on planet Earth.
The atmosphere was electric—a vibrant fusion of heritage and horsepower. Maasai dancers kicked off the morning with high leaps and hypnotic chants, their colorful shukas flowing as they stamped ancient rhythms into the dust. Their performance was a bold tribute to the land we stood on. Around them, diesel engines were growling, warming up in synchrony like a mechanical symphony.
The festival buzzed with Land Rovers of every era—posh Discoveries, souped-up Defenders, and vintage models that looked like they’d rolled straight out of the bush.
Then came the moment we’d all been waiting for. With a wave of the flag, the procession thundered to life and rolled out toward Arusha City. We cruised through Tengeru, rolled past Phillips, rounded the Impala roundabout, and circled the iconic Clock Tower. But this wasn’t just a drive—it was a full-blown spectacle. Speakers pumped music from open-roof Rovers, passengers danced and waved like royalty on parade, and bystanders flooded the streets, cheering and recording. Arusha didn’t just host the festival—the city owned it.
We spun our wheels past the Sheikh Amri Abeid Memorial Stadium and the Central Bus Station, swept through Florida roundabout, Mianzini, and Triple A, before finally roaring into Magereza Grounds in Kisongo suburb.
The roof of our Land Rover was wide open, and I stood tall up there—wind in my face, camera in hand—soaking in a panoramic view of the convoy, the city, and the surrounding landscape. From that elevated perch, Arusha unfolded beneath me like a storybook. Off in the distance, Mount Meru towered above the horizon, cloaked in mystery and morning haze. Its rugged slopes captivated me. In that moment, I quietly added it to my bucket list. Before tackling Kilimanjaro, I thought, this would be the perfect warm-up.
As mentioned earlier, I had wandered through Arusha on foot the day before. On the day of the festival, I found myself retracing familiar paths with a broader perspective. I spotted corners I had strolled past, markets I had peeked into, and there they were—the Clock Tower and the Uhuru Torch Monument—standing proud as ever. Landmarks I had admired up close now appeared like old friends waving from afar, framed by the motion and music of the convoy that had turned the city into one rolling celebration.
We spun our wheels past the Sheikh Amri Abeid Memorial Stadium and the Central Bus Station, swept through Florida roundabout, Mianzini, and Triple A, before finally roaring into Magereza Grounds in Kisongo suburb.
At Magereza Grounds, I took a stroll across the expansive venue, soaking in the sights and sounds of what felt like a dynamic trade fair. Auto dealers showcased gleaming 4x4s, spare parts sellers displayed rows of rugged components, tour operators pitched dream safaris, and stakeholders across the board mingled under colorful tents.
But it wasn’t all business. This was Tanzania, after all—a country that knows how to throw a proper celebration. If you’ve ever been to any festival in this East African country, you’ll understand: the energy is unmatched. And true to Arusha’s reputation, numerous cows and goats were slaughtered.
Later in the evening, I left for Nairobi to attend another engagement. It was only day one of the three-day festival, and while I had soaked up the best of the grand parade and the electric atmosphere at Magereza Grounds, leaving early meant missing out on the trip to Arusha National Park and the symbolic tree-planting ceremony.
Still, I left Arusha with dust on my boots, joy in my heart, and the echoes of revving engines and Maasai chants still ringing in my ears. For one unforgettable day, I had been part of something bigger—a celebration that promoted tourism, fostered connections with fellow adventurers, and paid tribute to Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere, a devoted Land Rover user. For the record, the final day of the festival—October 14—was Nyerere Day.
The roof of our Land Rover was wide open, and I stood tall up there—wind in my face, camera in hand—soaking in a panoramic view of the convoy, the city, and the surrounding landscape.