Well today’s the big day, I fly to Dar to meet Helen and then on to Zanzibar. She’s only given me one task; buy some Gin, which shouldn’t be too hard, so it’s off to the airport and Paradise Island. Sadly the departure lounge is undergoing major renovation work at Lusaka airport so no Duty free shopping to be done, not to worry gin can be bought on board or at Blantyre (Malawi stop off). We get off safely despite the check in desk booking me onto the wrong flight, which they seemed pretty unconcerned about. A couple of hours later we stop at Blantyre and it’s off to duty free to do the Gin buying. Shit! The dollars I had in my pocket have gone. I rack my brains and can only conclude that the security guy at Lusaka lifted them when I put everything through the X-ray machine, a rookie Mzungo mistake. Oh well, the duty Free magazine tells me I can pay by credit card, so it’s Gin from the plane then. Silly me, when they say you can use credit cards what they meant was no you can’t use credit cards, so no Gin. However, we do have a previously unannounced but by all accounts scheduled stop in Lilongwe (Capital of Malawi). So all in all a 3-4 hr flight to Dar has taken from 10am until 6pm to arrive. I thought that I’d grown accustom to the weather in Africa but getting off the plane was like walking into an oven, so hot and tired I arrived at the Guest house I was staying in and I could always console myself with the fact that Helen was on a 30 hr bus ride from Uganda.6 hrs late she arrives, frazzled as you can imagine.
Next day we take the slow Ferry (Approx 3hrs) to Stone Town, capital of Zanzibar, at least we get 1st class for our foreigner rate of $20 each (locals pay about half). After a lot of fannying around looking at flop houses we find Zenji Hotel on budget. It’s HOT here and very humid, just coming to the end of the rainy season and you can tell. Off to the Africa House Hotel for sundowners.
The AFHH was formerly the British Club, left to go to rack & ruin when they left, now owned by an Omani business man who has restored it to its former glory. It even has darts & Billiards. The next few days are spent exploring the maze of narrow streets and alleys avoiding the intermittent downpours and trying to catch a museum or two in order to demonstrate our cultural credentials.
On Saturday we eat at the top tower restaurant, part of the hotel creatively entitled 236 Hurumzi (It’s on Hurumzi st and guess what, its number...). This is the second tallest building in Stone town (not allowed to be taller than the palace) and the rooftop restaurant affords fabulous panoramic views of the town and bay. There’s great food, music and dancing. Although Helen reckons their hip thrusting is not in the same league as the Zambians, it works for me?! All in all a pretty memorable night.
Next Stop Kendwa beach, which is in the north of the island and about an hour form Stone own. After more messing about and haggling we agree a deal at Sunset Bungalows on an apartment overlooking the beach and sea. They also have a great restaurant/bar on the beach with sofas and comfy chairs as well as what looks like a defunct pool table, the whole place has a pretty cool vibe. So, it’s down to the beach for a spot of afternoon sun bathing. Almost deserted beach, pure white sand and azure blue perfectly still sea (sorry got into a bit of brochure speak, but it really is true). The sand is such pure silica that it doesn’t absorb any heat from the sun even in the hottest part of the day. The next day we’re entertained on the beach by the antics of an attractive young lady who has decided that despite this being a Muslim country topless sunbathing was the order of the day. To be fair I was entertained, Helen less so, she was concerned about the cultural insensitivity. The story developed when a portly old boy (In speedos Natch) who was with her started taking her picture, swiftly graduating to film and seemingly only focused on one thing. It all got a bit steamy and we came to the conclusion that they were either Italians or porn stars; either way explained the cultural insensitivity.
We spent 3 days here lounging on the beach Helen getting a tan me sunburn, as per normal and not doing a lot else. Although we did check out the posh resort at the end of the beach who told us the cafe was closed despite there being people at the bar serving coffee, I don’t think we were up to “Snuff” as they might say at Westminster school.
From Kendwa we moved to Bweju, via Stone Town, on the East coast of Zanzibar. Bweju is even more remote than Kendwa and the sand is even whiter &finer, if that’s possible. There’s tremendous tidal shift here with the sea going out 100’s of metres at low tide which makes for an ever changing view but swimming only possible at certain times, oh well just lie about in the hammock then. No deal to be done this time but get a really cool bungalow at “Twisted Palm”. Another 4 idyllic days here lazing around eating great seafood and drinking G&Ts, hope it never ends but it does. So back to Stone town for the Spice Tour, not great and back to Dar to get the train home.
3 Days on a train goes surprisingly quickly but none the less we arrive 8-9 hrs late and have to get the bus back to Lusaka in the Dark, always an unnerving prospect but we get home safely.
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