I will be the first to admit that I live a pretty sweet life. I have had the chance to see and do things that most people dream about. This was reinforced ten times over when Marta and I went to Zanzibar last week. July 1 and 4 are holidays in Rwanda so Marta and I took the opportunity to take six days off at the price of two and headed off to an island adventure. Just a quick wikipedia update for all y'all... Zanzibar is an island archipelago off the coast of Tanzania (its the Zan in Tanzania) that used to be a major Arab trading port. So it has a strong Arab influence (98% of the island is Muslim) as well as a strong Indian influence from continued trade and of course continued Western influence from tourists, its main economy. So it has an amazing culture on top of perfect, and I do mean perfect beaches.
Marta and I flew in from Kilimanjaro and the first thing that we saw was water that rivaled the crayola "Turquoise" crayon. The water was so clear that you could make out the coral reefs beneath the water from the air. The airport is just south of Zanzibar City, the main city in Zanzibar, and as you fly in, you see thousands of tin roofs reflecting the heat and sun back up to the sky, like thousands of mirrors. When we landed, we were quickly ushered through the airport and into a waiting taxi that was literally from 1953. Our driver gave us an impromptu tour of the city (the Indian Embassy is the biggest and the Soviet block buildings built by the East Germans are still standing) and drove us into Stone Town, the oldest part of Zanzibar city and a World Historical Site.
It was in a word... stunning. Narrow alleys wind around tall weathered buildings that have been standing for hundreds of years. All the doors are wide, heavy wooden doors with ornate carvings and metal decorations, some rounded on the top, spiked, or flat depending on the era the building was erected and the cultural influences at the time.
We walked around Stone Town the first day, shopping and eating. After a year of brochettes and fries, it was a culinary explosion. Lobster, crab, octopus, shrimp, prawns, Italian, Indian, Japanese, Chinese... I have to stop. The best was probably the strip of street food vendors that set up shop as the sun was setting. Hundreds of people just walked up and down the line of street vendors eating Zanzibar Pizza, roasted crab, octopus skewers, or spiced tuna. We ate only briefly at the street food since we also wanted beer (what can I say... a year of Primus and Mutzig leaves one hungry for choices) and since Zanzibar is Muslim, alcohol is not allowed on the streets. After an meal which actually left me satisfied for the first time in a year, Marta and I went back to the hotel and crashed. Oh and side note, our room was cleverly separated from our bathroom by a shower curtain. Ingenious. And completely not-soundproof.
The second day, as much as we wanted to stay in Stone Town, we were also anxious for the beach. So after breakfast, we arranged a shuttle and took off for the Northwest beaches, specifically Kendwa beach about an hour north of Stone Town and a world away. At low tide, the beach stretches around the tip of the island for several kilometers with turqouise water on one side and jungle (and hotels) on the other. The sand is so soft that it felt like walking on flour and was almost white, with minute pieces of red (Marta and I still cant figure out where the red came from). There isnt too much to say about the next two days... We laid on the beach, drank beer, ate sea food, and made friends with the bartenders at the bar down the beach because they were nicer and cheaper and just generally had a completely lazy and indulgent time.
On the third morning, July 4, we went snorkeling. We went with a tour and ended up with a French Canadian couple, a Swedish couple, two friends from Norway, and a girl from England/ Australia. It took about three hours to reach the private island that we snorkeled off of (couldnt actually go on the island. That would have cost $300). So we all laid on the top level of the dhow (traditional fishing boat) and watched the island pass slowly by. When we got to the island everyone just jumped in and snorkeled around except for yours truly. I jumped in and pretty much swallowed a bunch of water, got water in my mask, and started thrashing around like a wounded seal (oh there are sharks in Zanzibar by the way). So finally I got it together, swam back to the boat, and practiced a little. Its not hard, but its unnatural and I apparently do not take naturally to swim sports. But after about ten minutes holding onto the boat and a new mask, i was good to go. I still swallowed a lot of water and i was afraid to dive under the water, but it was amazing nonetheless. We were swimming just feet above coral reefs with big violet and yellow fish, long thin silver fish, urchins, and star fish and at one point i looked up and i was swimming through a school of black and white striped fish. Every time I turned, they would turn and surround me again, swimming around and in front of me. After snorkeling, we went to a beach just across the channel from the island and had bbq fish, coconut rice, and fresh pineapple and oranges on the beach. It was a pretty idyllic day. Other than being spied on by a 13 year old boy when I was popping a squat. That wasnt as much fun.
After we got back, we reverted back to the previous pattern of beers and beach chairs until it got dark. We decided to walk down the beach a little to a place that had a band the night before and play some board games. In the middle of our second game, Kilimanjaro, a Masai warrior came and sat next to us and then started playing. Apparently he used to play all the time. All I can say is this... never get into a betting game against a Masai warrior playing Jenga.
After the jenga game, we made our way back to Kendwa rocks which was having its monthly full moon party, which draws people literally from around the island and from Dar. There was an acrobat squad and two djs and apparently a bbq buffet, which we were too late for (45 minutes after it opened, picked clean). Marta and I made friends with a middle aged south african couple that wanted us to stay with them for World Cup (the own a couple hotels) and were very intent on seeing us married so promised to fix us up with eligible footballers. Crap I just realized we left without getting their number. Stupid Linnea!
Unfortunately, we had to leave the next morning so we didnt stay too late at the full moon party. Late enough to regret it the next day but also early enough to make it through the day without hating life. You've been there. So the next day we left Kendwa and got a shuttle back into Zanzibar town. When we got the airport, the line was really long and completely stopped. We were waiting as they came along grabbing people out of line for flights that were literally leaving and rushing them through security (probably not the most secure airport in the world, now that I think about it). All of a sudden, a man came up to me asked me if I was on flight 712 to Dar (I was on 423 which left an hour later by the way) and grabbed my ticket. He started yelling at Marta (she was in the other line so we could cover our bases) to get over to where we were. Then he disappeared into a small office as we stood around completely confused and came out about ten minutes later with handwritten boarding passes for the new flight that looked like movie tickets and told us to hurry hurry, being quite annoyed that we were holding up the plane, and rushing us through security (no worries though we still had to pay the five dollar fee for intercountry travel). We ran out onto the tarmac and were hurried up the ramp by an impatient ground squad, chastised for being late (please keep in mind we were waiting for a different flight that was not scheduled to leave for another hour and a half) and then pushed into our seats. During this jostling, Marta dropped her passport in the plane, which was exactly the same color as the passport, so after we landed in Dar, Marta and I were literally on our hands and knees pawing the floor, looking for her passport. Which we found with very little help from the flight crew. One of them asked me "Why did you drop the passport in the middle when you were seated in the front?" Right... because we meant to do that.
So after that flight, we sat in the Dar es Salaam airport (it smells like bathroom FYI) and then were on our way to Kilimanjaro again. We spent the night in Moshi which seems like a pretty happening town at the base of Kili and the jump off point for people hiking the mountain. Unfortunately, we had neither the time nor money to do so, but at least I have seen it now! Finally, after spending the night in Moshi (there are no flights from Zanzibar to Rwanda on the same day using the airline we chose so we ended up with an overnight layover. It was cool though and Im glad we did) we were back on the flight to Rwanda and back at work by noon. Although I did have to shower because by then I hadnt showered for umm I think four days. I counted the ocean as a wash. My hair however did not.
