Also goes by the pseudonym Kempinski. Which is a well known name around here in this part of East Africa. Kilimanjaro though is better known. A tumultuous piece of rock sticking out of the earth tall enough to warrant sufficient interest for a long time. There is a national park which takes its name from this peak. And there is an eponymous local brew which too gets inspired by the tumult of the tallish piece of rock. Or the tallness of the tumultuous piece of rock, I am not exactly sure. It could of course be both, which would be a fuzzy little compromise on the nature of reality. Or of language, I am not exactly sure. It could of course be both.
As pit stops go, the Kempinski in Dar es Salam is a plush one, designed to satiate the creature of comfort. But in its fulfillment of sojourners’ gluttony, whether it lives up to the somewhat higher standards of the caravanserai is something that is not immediately obvious. And as immediately obvious things go, you wonder where is it that they go to exactly?
That, my friend, is the curve ball of life, the well-rounded mystery which saps the blue-green juice out of the diaspora of vegetarian ecstasy. And if you think you can wrap your mind around that one, then come on right in and stay on as long as you want without any fear of not being able to check out (this is Dar es Salam, not California).