Seeing us on the outskirts of villages, children quickly line themselves along the dusty roads, their knees bent, leaning forward while waving their arms wildly and cheering as if I‘m in the race of my life. Sometimes I feel I am.

Although some of the children are barefoot they run alongside my bike, their presence and energy a great pick­me­up. Adults join in, calling out in Swahili: "Sorry for your journey."

For many of them biking is their main means of transport and they‘re sympathetic to our peddling, but unbeknown to them our mountain bikes, unlike their own, have gears, shock absorbers and are serviced each night.

I am on a two­week mountain biking journey with Escape Adventures, experiencing daily life in Tanzania from its largest coastal city of Dar es Salaam through mountainous heartland and into the northern deserts. Each day our group of four riders slowly clocks up the kilometres, not in any Speedy Gonzales way but with encouragement and gentle persuasion from our two New Zealand guides, Dave and Elysia, who take turns leading or tailgating the pack. As a novice rider my biking skills and fitness have improved beyond my belief.

Today is an appreciated rest day as we are staying under the gaze of Africa‘s most admired and much­traversed mountain, Kilimanjaro.

Our camp at Marangu Lodge is a popular base for many climbing up to the 5895 metre­high summit, but our hike is thankfully much gentler, a guided village walk lead by a local named Roderick. South of Marangu, the terrain has been dry and open with forested areas, but here, closer to the equator and the mountain, it is more jungle­like and tropical. Although we‘ve been riding on village tracks alongside locals, racing them on their bikes and shopping at their markets, this walking tour gives a much closer look into their village life and customs.

Under the shade of banana trees we wander along a narrow dirt path, both sides flanked shoulder height in elephant grass and yuccas. Roderick points out that the yucca is a "plant of peace", used not only as a sweet crop but also to resolve neighbourly feuds. When a neighbour is ready to mend their friendship they simply place a yucca leaf in their back pocket until the disgruntled neighbour removes it, signifying the quarrel is settled.

Lingering in the air is the intoxicating sweet scent of mangoes, papayas and bananas, and we stop as Roderick points out plants used for medicinal purposes.

The people here, known as Chaggas, make up the third largest ethnic group in Tanzania and occupy the southern end and eastern slopes of Kilimanjaro. A young woman in a clearing tends to healthy green lettuces. Maize and beans are the staple here and crops are used in a variety of ways. For example, mashed bananas boiled for five to six hours are brewed into umbege, a local beer commonly consumed during weddings and funerals.

Crocheting with two pieces of thin, bent wire, a girl appears on the track stealing glances our way as her woollen creation grows.

We follow her as she slowly leads us to a small circle of mud huts, some with thatched roofs. Adjoining each are confines of either cows or goats calling through the wooden railings.

We are told the cows are the villagers‘ bank account, their financial future, attached to their homes for security. We are invited into a hut and find an immaculately swept dirt floor and smouldering remains of the morning‘s small open fire. A low doorway leads to the only bedroom. Blankets are neatly folded at the end of hard, wooden beds and shoes are tucked into a wooden shelf. In this home their cows are safely guarded in the stables which take up the entire left side of the hut.

Returning into bright daylight, the alluring smell of fresh coffee draws us to a small crowd around a blackened pot where locally grown Arabica coffee, Tanzania‘s largest export crop, roasts above a small charcoal fire.

Further on, citrus scents from lemons and the aroma of over­ripe avocados waft across the track. Every so often we step aside for men pushing wheelbarrows laden with dirt and sticks, or women with a crate of jingling and clanging bottles balanced precariously on their heads.

As we pass a school, snow on Mount Kilimanjaro glinting in the morning sun provides a memorable backdrop. Two rusty wheels hanging from a wooden frame outside a small church are rung to call worshippers to services inside its mahogany and stained glass interior.

Christianity was introduced and adopted in this area during the middle of the nineteenth century, but Roderick says many prayers continue to be made in the traditional manner by leaving offerings at the base of a nearby ancient tree.

At night the village puts on a dance to the beat of pounding drums. The women, dressed in sarongs, tops and scarves in a kaleidoscope of colours, step in a form of shuffle around in a circle, hands tucked under their armpits, elbows flapping at their sides. They swing their hips as they dance to the rhythm of the men beating their hands on the drums as if in a trance. At various times men leave their drums to somersault across the stage and perform a handstand in the centre, to much cheering.

Back on our bikes, the next day we push north to Tanzania‘s safari capital, Arusha. Wildlife tours depart from here for Africa‘s most densely populated wildlife region, the Ngorongoro Crater, where almost every species of African wildlife can be found.

We board a Jeep and leave our camp in darkness, but the road ahead is slowly lit by an amazing, deep­red disk rising behind us with the approaching dawn.

Silhouettes of baobabs, commonly known as upside­down trees, look like a complex set of roots with their twisted, snarled branches. As the road winds upwards, baboons forage at the roadside, their coats tinged bronze.

At the rim of Ngorongoro‘s wide, volcanic crater, 2286 metres above sea level, we view steep drops down to grass plains and a glaring, white lake. Spanning twenty kilometres, the crater‘s vastness is lost under the hazy horizon of a pale blue sky.

The crater became a conservation area in 1959, and Maasai people carry on their nomadic, traditional life, grazing cattle within the area. They meet us at the entrance, handsomely gowned in red and crimson chequered cloth, their shoes crafted ingeniously from old tyres. They are keen to sell us beaded necklaces. Driving down inside the crater we pass Maasai huts made from mud and sticks from the crater. They are almost camouflaged.

Our driver, Joe, points out our first wildlife sighting, a jackal which instantly turns its back and disappears over a ridge and out of sight. Further down on the flat, wildebeest and zebra travel in unison, crossing the track in front in droves.

Further ahead, a bull elephant stands majestically by a watering hole, while on the other side, sitting with paws outstretched, is a handsome lion, his golden mane a crowning glory.

Not far away, four lion cubs like large kittens roll about on top of smooth boulders, chewing each other‘s necks and paws. A few metres away, in kneehigh tawny grass, a lioness pants in the hot morning sun, keeping a lookout for approaching threats.

What look like logs lying across a small blue lake from afar are revealed to be muddy brown hippopotamus barrelled closely together.

They lie motionless, their pig­like ears and eyes resting just above the waterline, while birds feed off their backs and storks fossick in the surrounding‘reeds.

A wading bird marches about, aimlessly changing direction, while in the distance across the brilliant white lake, pink flamingos rest on one foot, standing still like carefully positioned decorations on a cake.

We stop under a tree for lunch and a monkey, spying us from a tree above, waits until we turn our backs before he jumps on to the Jeep‘s roof and scampers under the open pop­top. Once inside he appears to be delighted with himself, posing on one of the seats like a passenger before Joe chases him out. We leave the crater enthralled by the extravagance and continuous sightings of wildlife.

Tomorrow we are back on our mountain bikes leaving the lush southern slopes of Kilimanjaro and riding into the northern sands region of Tanzania.

Having seen wildlife from a Jeep, we will soon cycle past giraffes, zebra, wildebeest and Maasai warriors tending their goats. I wonder if we will continue to be such instant crowd curiosities in our new surroundings.