The name itself whispers of delights unknown.
When we stepped off the rockin' 2 1/2 hour ferry-ride from Dar es Salaam, trying our best to retain our breakfasts...and went through the little passport control queue on the island, the man stamping our passports said "welcome to paradise". I figured he was just being friendly and charming - everyone likes to promote their home as a good and praiseworthy place. But...after a few days in Zanzibar, I fully concurred.
What's required for a place to qualify as "paradise"?...my list might include things like warm, but moderate temperatures, sun, blue sky, soft white sand, "ethereal blue-green waters" (that one's a direct quote from the Lonely Planet), friendly people, good food, including lots of coconut curries, exotic spices, fun fruit, chocolate pancakes, fruit smoothies.... check, check, check...
As lovely places go, Zanzibar was right up there with the loveliest of lovely.
We started by exploring the charming old "Stone Town" with it's meandering narrow streets, wafting aromas of well-spiced curries and zesty orange vendor carts. We had the unanticipated good fortune of arriving on the final day of the Zanzibar International Film Festival and watched the festival's winning film under a full-moon sky in an open air historical auditorium. It was all very lovely and magical - until the disc the movie was on started seizing up - gently reminding us that we were still in Africa where half the charm is that things don't often work.
Portrait of a Little Girl in Stonetown
Portrait of a Little Boy in Stonetown
Carving on typical Swahili wooden door
Market ColourWe risked being rather touristy and joined a group "Spice Tour". They take you on a tour of various areas where spices are grown and harvested on the island, let you taste, smell & feel the plants, give you samples of scrumptious tropical fruit and feed you an excellent Zanzibar Pilau lunch. We were okay with being touristy tourists for the day.
Cloves: Zanzibar's main export.
Care to guess? - Cardamom. Pretty, no?
A Rambutan (close relative of the Lychee).
There's something so delicious about one's first barefoot steps in the sand, digging one's toes into the sand when it's been a long time. Deep soul satisfying. (And feels nice on the callouses too).
So we decided to leave town and head to the other side of the island for more beach, and the Lonely Planet's promised "ethereal blue-green waters" of Jambiani Beach.
We forgot to ask when boarding the dala-dala (mini-bus/truck) whether the estimated 3 1/2 hours journey was a direct trip or if it included breakdowns, 1 flat tire, or 2 flat tires. Again...loving reminders from dear sweet dysfunctional mamma africa.
Flat Tire #1: A quick change and we were back on the road.
Flat Tire #2: Oops, we only had 1 spare...umm...eventually another fully loaded dalla-dalla will come
along and ALL of us can squeeze in to the crevasses
between the other people on the bus - no problem!
The end that justified the means.
How significant amounts of R&R time should always be spent:sipping smooth fruity vitamin-rich goodness.
Wherever we ate or slept in Zanzibar, we always found very gregarious dread-locked rasta hosts who wanted to make sure we had everything we needed to be happy. This included things like invitations to stay with them forever in their little shacks behind the beach... That I turned down. However, I was rather charmed when after waiting exceptionally long for my mango smoothy in this tree-house restaurant I found out the waiter ran all the way into town to get me a mango. I told him he should have just told me they were out, but he said, "I just wanted your dreams to come true". Forget roses! - Mangoes...melt my heart every time.
The stairway to....?...heaven?? (notice how it's not very far away).Well, the children of Ethiopia were awfully cute, but they have some serious competition from these Zanzibar schoolgirls.
I'm still not sure why I ever left Zanzibar, but somehow I was able to tear myself away with the knowledge that there's more good world out there to explore. (My inner nomad keeps me moving.) We bussed up to northern Tanzania to the city of Arusha, the home of the Masai people, and the area of Africa's tallest mountain: Kilimanjaro.
Mount Meru behind the maize fields.
Time kept me from joining my friends for an ambitious climb up Kili, and we spent our few remaining days together enjoying some day trips outside of Arusha. Again, we took the risk of being kitchy tourists and signed ourselves up for a couple of "cultural tourism trips". We had fears of awkward artificial poses with costumed "authentic tribal people" and forced dance presentations.
We ended up being very pleasantly surprised and impressed with our down-to-earth local Masai guides who took us on the crammed public mini-buses out to their home villages, where we walked in the hills, enjoyed the scenery, chatted about their culture and peered into a few homes.
Typical Masai Home
Proceeds from our reasonably priced tour went to community projects: a school rehabilitation, environmental awareness projects and water sources like this.
But just to be slightly the kitchy tourists we did let them dress Gabby up for a photo op.
A glimpse into yet another beautiful world.
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