In principle a late breakfast at 8am but everyone was up early, partly habit (now!) partly because it was too hot after about 6.30. Helen had a lie in'til 7 and was probably the last to get up. The minibus arrived to pick us up about 9 to take us to the ferry to Zanzibar. It was a considerably smoother ride back into Dar but bouncy nevertheless. We passed a roadside thermometer reading 29C at 9.15am!
Paul was tasked with getting the ferry tickets while we sat in air-conditioned "luxury" at a local fast food joint. Onto the ferry for a 10.30 sailing. Probably a 50ft ferry which pitched and rolled happily in the one metre swell. I played Georgie, our central African guide at bao and we split the games 2-2. Most others spent their time at the bow successfully controlling their seasickness.
Off the boat and we trooped through the bowels of the port to the customs and immigration offices -- neither of which we would ever have found on our own. For some reason travelling as a group we had to draw up a manifest and by the time that was done the large, slow moving queue at immigration had long since disappeared. Heaven alone knows what was happening but the new [Zanzibar] guide, Imjan(?), looked busy.
Next we cram ourselves onto a couple of minibuses and drive 800m into a tiny square/arcade with a large pile of rubble in the middle to go to an exchange bureau. I got 970Tsh for each of my US$60 whereas others got 982 Tsh. Maybe they didn't like my face?
Back in the minibus to lunch, Zanzibar style. Well, frankly, I won't rush to pay my own money. We were in a noisy, packed roadside restaurant with plastic covers on the tables and a lot of stressed conversations between Imjan, Georgie and the staff. We had a choice between chilled bungo or tamarind juice (both OK) and beef/fish/chicken biryani ("spiced rice"). The meals were almost served before the drinks and the drinks didn't take long. It was OK but I still don't understand the African obsession with leaving meat on the bone. It's such a pain to eat food when you have to pause every bite to find some meat amongst the bones and gristle and skin. All the while lots of noise and shouting and hassle. Imjan says its because the staff like to rush you through to get the next lot in. Not a great experience but "interesting."
Then back in the minibuses to ride out to the east coast. The capital of Zanzibar is Stonetown (though I've not seen that name on any map [which all refer to Zanzibar]). Frankly you could rename most of it as Shantytown and the centre Shittytown. It's a dreadful place, considering it's meant to be a paradise island, there being no civic pride whatsoever. Dusty, dirty and sometimes decrepid, I felt sad to look at it wondering what these people thought of the place that they lived in. Paul had said that the climate didn't suit building maintenance but that's no excuse.
Anyway, as soon as we left Stonetown things looked up, palm trees and reasonable roads. We headed for Paje on the east coast stopping only for the regular police checkpoints (what on earth were they looking for?). Sadly, at Paje the road turned gravel and for the next 30 minutes we bounced down the road. It's can't be good when you're happy to see the potholes you can drive into as they're smoother... On the other hand, the stunning coastline appeared which made it worthwhile.
We ended up at the Gomani Inn in Jambiani, a long drawn out village -- at least I assume that was it -- where the villagers stare in bemusement at another coachload of tourists.
Gomani Inn S6.34104
E39.55651 Elev. 17m! I think the wind [low pressure] has screwed my meter readings.
After divi-ing out the rooms, we changed and hit the ocean. Wow, the water was so warm it must have been in the low 30s -- warmer than a swimming pool. Must get a dive computer that will tell me these things [water temperature!].
Then a spot of volleyball then back to the room for a shower and "fzzzt!" There's something not right! The waterworks are [connected to the electricity supply's] live. Not a good thing when the entire bathroom is the shower floor. Oh dear. We turn our shower off using a (dry) towel. Marcus has called the staff out -- a few electrical things aren't working and it turns out that the whole block is suffering. Ouch! After some fiddling they call the elctrician out for tomorrow. In the meanwhile, use a towel. Great!
Our hands were first up to go snorkelling tomorrow with the chance of dolphins joining in. After tea we do a spot of moonlit rock pool searching. Without a great deal of luck, it must be said.
PS The second night on Lake Malawi we didn't use Mosi-guard: Helen's bites on her legs and hands became small ugly pus filled boils whereas mine, on my back, have become red irritated 0.5 inch blotches. How odd.
Copyright 2002 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.