before it slips away beneath the haze of amsterdam, here is the rest of zanzibar.
the morning after the spice tour, jakob, erika, and i had breakfast in a very nice coffee shop, one of the few places in east africa that roasts and grinds its own beans. the food is fantastic, but the counter service left something to be desired.
After breakfast, we walked briefly by the market, where we saw huge rays and tuna, before finding a dala dala to take us to the beach.
the dala dalas park at the front of the market. each car has touts running around, trying to recruit western tourists. they start with 5000 shilling a head, but for that, we could've gotten a private taxi (there were 6 of us afterall). after threatening to walk away multiple times (to which they would tell lies such as: "the next one doesn't leave for 2 hours!" or "you can't take that bus, it is dangerous and dirty."--let me tell you, there is nothing less comfy/safe/clean than a dala dala, except maybe a boda boda, which is the motorcycle taxi that got us around uganda), we finally got on for the local price of 2000 shilling each. yes, we only managed to save around $1.50 per person, but it's the principle.
the outside of these things say that they take 13 passengers, but we crammed in over 20 ppl, and i think maybe a goat or two on the roof.
Like most forms of road transport in africa, the ride was bumpy, dusty, crowded, and hot. unfortunately, i also happened to have a full-milk cappuccino sloshing in my stomach, fighting to see daylight with every pothole. when we finally emerged from the dark car into the burning noon sun, we still had about a kilometer to walk before we'd hit the beach. it doesn't sound like a lot...but nauseated, sleep deprived, and carrying bags, i found it interminable.
after getting settled, i went on an impromptu fishing trip. the locals took us on a wooden skip, gave us string attached to wooden blocks, and baited our hooks with fresh squid. we sat for what seemed like hours, our feet dragging in the water, almost able to see all the way thru the clear water to where our hooks scraped the bottom. even so, the fish were too smart for me. i'd respond to all these nibbles (both imagined and real), pulling my line up every couple of minutes. every once in a while, my piece of squid will have gone. the locals managed to snag a fish every couple of minutes. color me frustrated.
and then our 2 bit motor died, leaving us drifting on the strong current. i was pretty much over this fishing trip. and when the guy tried to charge me more than we agreed to, i pretty much lost it a little, which, in retrospect, was not good, b/c then he turned all rasta and zen, and i felt pretty shitty. oh well. tomorrow would be better.
 |
| still enjoying the fishing trip zanzibar |
the next morning, j+e+i went on a full day snorkelling trip. i was wary of being stuck on a boat again, but this one had a sail, more talkative skippers, and refreshments on board.
the water was, as always, amazingly clear. we must've seen 10 shades of blue. the snorkeling itself was so-so. zanzibar's history of dynamite fishing and omnivorous eating had depleted the waters. still an ok assortment of fish, but not nearly as stunning as i would've expected given the visibility of the water.
we took turns jumping off the top deck and the mast. jakob's fancy camera took such good action shots that it almost felt like cheating.
when we'd gotten our fill of snorkeling and swimming, we waded to shore with our bags on our heads. the chef had prepared a bbq tuna lunch on a wood fire in the sand. it was a simple meal of fish rubbed in salt, chilis, and lime, with sides of tomato relish, boiled rice, and fresh fruit. having asked for avocados in the bargaining phase of the trip (when i still thought it was a private trip for just the three of us), i got my own plate of avocados. i felt awkward nibbling away on my private stash when there were 20some ppl sitting around us...but meh, they tasted good anyways, especially after sitting in a frisbee full of seawater.
he's not actually jumping that much higher than i am, but he jumped a second later, so while he's just reaching his peak, i'm already on my way down. this is the only photo where we're both in the air. yes, i feel the need to justify my aerial.
on our way home, we sighted a pair of dolphins in the distance. we didn't harass them as is the tradition in these parts, but it was a nice surprise anyways. apparently, i was worn out, b/c i napped on the top deck for the entire ride back.
when we got back, we found the others lounging in the hammocks, sipping on beers. we went out for a local group dinner, during which jakob defined
shwaffling for us, and in return, lucy defined
dogging, and rupert defined a
fruit basket. thanks guys, i wouldn't have been complete without it.
the next day we did nothing much (finally!), basking in the sand and cooling off in the water. the fake masai and the locals all have art stands with italian names. italian tourism is big in the area. the local boys greeted us with ciaos.
in the evening, the whole group walked to nungwi, the closest resort. it's not a long walk, but because of the high tide, we had to do some impressive bushwhacking and wall-scaling.
i very nearly impaled my thigh on an iron rod, but someone warned me just in the nick of time.
we spent a lot of time wandering in and out of shops, buying artwork, trinkets, hats. when you've got a group of 8, it may take 2 hours to get ppl to head towards a restaurant for dinner. at any point in time, 3 ppl would say, "i'm hungry, let's go!", stand around waiting for about 10 minutes, and then wander off into the nearest trinket stand, b/c hey, if i'm gonna wait, might as well window shop! the only thing that saved us was the snack shop (pictured above), which had a tv in the corner showing an early jackie chan flick (might've been drunken master). it had english subtitles and jackie still sported a bruce lee wannabee haircut. highly amusing, and more importantly, had immense sticking power towards willful tourists. before you knew it, practically the entire group had congregated in front of the tv, along with a group of locals, and we were all cheering jackie on.
Dinner was good but unremarkable seafood. the only memorable bits were simon's stupid comments about the prayer calls, simon calling jakob gay after simon ordered a girly umbrella drink, jakob's awesome goat joke, and the hostile cats that prowled the floors.
After dinner, jakob and i bought more munchies (we each had two chocolate bars and a stack of cookies, plus the two cans of pringles i had bought earlier). the others had found a pretty cool bar with a huge bonfire. it also had a motorcycle hanging in a tree (how'd it get there?!) and a wooden plank swing hanging from the same tree. jakob and i must've spent the next hour staring into the fire and double fisting our food. we took eating very seriously. didn't say a word, didn't crack a smile, just one hand after the other. left hand for pringles, right hand for cookies. altho the pringles made me very thirsty, i couldn't take a break to drink water. i kept thinking that alternating the flavors would cure it. erika must've been bored out of her wits. we snapped out of it when we ran out of pringles. it was around 1 am when we three took a cab back to the dorms. the others stayed until 7am, but they had a pretty rough time of it.
simon fell asleep on one of the hammocks and lost his sunglasses. he caught some dude walking off with his hat and chased him to get it back.
rupert may have been date raped. he was walking with ash when he wandered off to find a loo. ash couldn't find him for 40 minutes. she asked everyone if they saw him, finally seeing him walk up the beach holding the hand of a local girl. when she saw ash and lucy approaching, she ran off, then ran back to him, and ran off again. he was completely groggy and didn't remember a thing. then they discovered that his wallet was gone. they combed the beach for 2 hours, looking for his wallet, but when they tried to retrace his steps, they found he couldn't remember what he'd done or where he'd been. he kept sitting down on the sand and saying, "was i here? i don't remember being here..." poor rupert was so freaked out. they never did find his wallet, but it didn't have much in it (he had spent all his cash on souvenirs before dinner), and he was going home in a few days anyways. the weirdest thing is that they had only been doing shots from the bar, so either the bar staff was in on it, or someone had slipped something into rupert's drink between the time that they got the shots and the time that they downed them. sketchy...
the next morning, our little group was in pretty rough shape. erika and i went for a run on the beach to sweat out some of the pringles. between jumping over the fishing tethers, we wove in and out of the water to try and cool off a bit. a bevy of white domed buildings clustered like eggs to our left. local children in tattered shirts threw us the odd "ciao".
a couple of us walked to the next resort for lunch. some nice south african ladies on our snorkel cruise recommended their tuna with chef sauce. delicious indeed.
we enjoyed our last few hours walking on the beach, and somewhere along the way, we found a monkey chained to a tree. he's very agile, but if you let him perch on you while he eats, be prepared to be splattered by half-chewed banana.
goodbyes are always sad. rupert, lucy, and jakob would be going back to the UK after zanzibar, while erika, ash, simon, gerwin, and i would drive up to mombasa in their 4x4. but first, we still needed to get back to stone town. jakob almost left his passport at reception, yelling "HOLY MOLY" with the accents on all the wrong syllables in a heavy german accent. and then, the taxi driver that we thought was the guy who arranged the ride back with us wasn't the taxi driver who arranged the ride back, so he wanted to charge us more (story of my life). but since he was nice and it was a genuine mix up, we met somewhere in the middle. i mean, at least we weren't on another dala dala.
on the way, large buses kept passing us at breakneck pace. apparently, these are the staff buses that ferry staff between their homes in stone town and their work in beach resorts. there are only 2 buses to take 3 loads of people, so one of the buses must double back and make 2 journeys, which is like tacking on an extra 3 hours of work for the driver. the idiotic policy is that the first bus to arrive in stone town doesn't have to go back, so the buses race to be first. by the way they were driving, you'd think they were being chased by someone with an uzi. swerving between lanes, edging each other out, i've only ever seen driving like that in movies. the weirdest bit is looking back to see this maniac vehicle bearing down on you, and then seeing the expressionless muslim women in burqas bouncing along. they
must believe in god to travel like that.
we spent their last few hours in stone town shopping for more souvenirs.
rupert looks like a war child. he actually went to a public school that allowed hunting-with-beagles as a p.e. choice. if that didn't float your boat, you could also do sailing/fencing/other posh "sports" (the kind of sports that ralph lauren develops their sportswear line for).
the next day, erika and i spent our last stone town moments eating with nadine and taking pictures, buying spices.
 |
| skin of a cow...see the eyeball? it sees you.... zanzibar |
 |
| street stand food, really good. zanzibar |
lunch was at archipelago, one of the best seafood restaurants i've ever been in. prices are reasonable, the view is amazing, and the food to die for. i've never been a fan of octopus, but the waiter recommended it, so what the heck. i don't know how they did it, but the octopus practicallly melted in my mouth. not chewy at all. delightful!
 |
| erika's whole fish and nadine's king prawn curry zanzibar |
that evening, we rejoined ash, simon, and gerwin at mercury (named after freddie mercury of queen fame, who was born in zanzibar) before boarding our night ferry for dar es salaam. they had bought return tickets thru a sketchy guy named ali (who ripped them off in various ways) in dar for the flying horse, whereas we had bought tickets the night before for the seagull, which we were told is the only ferry running. trouble. long story short, they bullshitted their way thru 5 security checks with the wrong tickets before being stopped at the gangplank by the manager of the boat, who made them go all the way back to the office at the eleventh hour to buy tickets for this boat. none of ash's sweet talk about the evil man who ripped them off did any good, but he did upgrade all of us to first class at no extra cost in sympathy to our plight. and thank god.
by the time we got on the boat, the steerage was completely full with ppl and their prayer rugs sprawled out all over the aisles. it was like nap time in communist china: standing room only. even the outside decks were full to overflowing. i guess ppl aren't afraid of rolling in their sleep. we picked our way up the stairs to first class, where the seats were mercifully empty, the air was air conditioned, and a big screen tv was playing THE ROCK (with nicholas cage). i even got my own row of seats to stretch out on. bliss. the rocking of the boat put me right to sleep, and when i woke up, it was 6am in dar. first mission, find ali and kick his ass.
just kidding, but we did run into ali after packing the car (a monumental feat in itself--we were so hungry that we broke open a coconut and gnawed out the hard insides). he took us back to his office, and after a lot of negotiating, some of which involved a plain clothes police man, he gave them back all of the money he had ripped off them (eg, the phantom deposit for booking a hotel which the hotel never saw, the extra commission he took on their tickets, a total refund for the flying horse return tickets). he was very afraid of that police man, and after he threw us the last 40,000 shillings with the words, "get out and don't give me any trouble", we booked it out of town lest
he give
us any more trouble. lesson learned: always buy tickets from the official ticket desk, never from agents. and thus, the zanzibar leg of our trip was behind us.
No comments:
Post a Comment