Saturday, November 3, 2012

Zanzibar

So, after completing our epic climb to the roof of Africa, it was time for a bit of relaxation.  Still tired, and a little hungover, we left Kilimanjaro and flew directly to Zanzibar on Monday morning.

We are staying at Imani Beach Resort, which had reasonably pretty looking pictures on the website.  (Which was surprisingly difficult to find… our travel agent only managed to find us an ‘address’ about an hour before we flew out… and it was a GPO address, so entirely useless).

It’s about 10km north of Stone Town.  As we turned off the main road down the side street and saw the sign for our “resort”, I must say that my heart started to race a little.



I couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of resort might be hiding behind the piles of rubbish and pretty foul odour.  Fortunately, once we got to the end of the street, it turned out to be not too bad.


It was beach front, although the beach wasn't really much compared to Australia.  I admit, I had been warned that if I wanted good beaches I should be staying on the East or North coasts… for some reason I let the travel agent choose this place and didn’t bother arguing it.  Probably should have, as the hotel is a little more geared to honeymooners and couples.  They have put flowers everywhere, on the beds, on the chairs, in drawers, even in the soap dispenser in the bathroom.

We didn’t do much for the rest of the afternoon except sit around.  Simon is feeling a little unwell, so I help myself to several Imani Ice Tea’s and beers to while away the afternoon/evening.

Because we have booked 4 nights at this place, we are given a complimentary day trip to ‘Prison Island’.  Not sure how I feel about a free trip to a prison, sounds like a scam to me!  We set to sea:


I help out with directions:


This photo has safety written all over it:


Never mind talking on the phone while driving a car, how about talking on the phone while driving a boat with your foot.

So that is our boat there, with the blue canopy, and we spent the first couple of hours at a sandbank snorkelling around a small reef.  The water was clear and warm, the sun shining, a perfect day really.




And then onto ‘Prison (Changuu) Island’, which thankfully bears no resemblance to a prison at all.  Once upon a time it was used as a yellow fever quarantine station for Zanzibar.


The only thing imprisoned now is about a hundred tortoises, who crawl around doing not very much all day.  Their shell appears to be God’s little joke, as it appears to make their life very difficult to get past each other.  You can pat them, which is weird, but they seem to like it…


There is only one rule when viewing the tortoises:


Spice World Tour

Yooo! I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want!  So tell me what you want what you really really want, I wanna (huh) I wanna (huh) I wanna (huh) I wanna (huh) I really really really wanna see where spices are grown.

Very excited to see what I can only presume is the original home of the Spice Girls.  But some way into the tour, the only one we have spotted is Ginger.  I’m beginning to suspect that Baby, Sporty, Scary, and Posh may not be spices afterall, and could be made up for commercial reasons.

I can’t imagine this was necessary, I’m sure they would have sold just as many lip-synched albums if they were named after real spices:


This guy is one of our guides, and seems to be very good at climbing trees… is it racist to call him a monkey?


He has decked Simon & I out in some fabulous reed-wear.


Nutmeg is the most interesting looking of the spices.  Apparently the local women give it to the men to "get them to take their pants off".  Possibly to wash them, but from the tone of his voice it is for far more sinister reasons!


Not technically a spice, but this is a Jack Fruit tree.  This fruit is ridiculous looking, but it actually tastes delicious!



Fishing

At the end of the day we decide it’s time to earn our daily keep by ‘helping’ some local fisherman out with their afternoon work.  We board this sturdy, sea-worthy vessel.


Very safe, requires constant bailing out.  There are three locals with us.  One speaks a couple of words of English, but other than that we can’t understand them and they can’t understand us.

After sitting around bored for a while, I decide to pull in my line to see if I have any bait left.  Surprise, a fish!


Inedible, but one of the locals quickly slits its throat, chops it up, and it becomes the new baitfish.  They are nothing if not resourceful.  Simon sits for a while catching nothing.  Eventually the guy in the middle hands him a line with a sympathy fish on the end of it.




Somehow we come away with 5 fish out of this, of which Simon & I caught none.


But the trip did give us the opportunity to watch sunset from the water.



The chef at our hotel kindly prepare our catch for our dinner in a coconut curry (he probably just turfed them and used whatever they had in the freezer)!


It was pretty tasty, although I must disclaim this by acknowledging we drank their strongest cocktail (which comes in a treasure chest) before dinner.



The next day we arise and decide it is time to check out Stone Town, so named because of the use of coral stone for the buildings (I think.), although I suspect it’s actually ‘Stoned Town’ because I am offered marijuana twice while walking through its streets.


Slave Chambers

Britney once crooned (through a highly auto-tuned and electronically altered voice) she was a '”slave for you”.  After visiting the slave chambers in Stone Town not sure she really appreciated what being a slave meant…




Fortunately for the slaves, it seems they were willing enough to provide them with entertainment while they waited to be sold.  Just up the stairs is a piano!  I attempted to belt out a tune, it seems a few of the notes are missing...


Old Fort


Here in the old fort, at that shop over there, in a few minutes time I would be held in my own mini-siege by a shopkeeper.  Feeling compelled to buy something to escape, I settled on two pretty hideous wood carvings.  He promises I will get a “good price my friend”.  It was very good, very good indeed, for him!  $45, outrageous!  I’m not sure if you are supposed to haggle in this town, I offer $20, and he lowers the price to $44.  This will be slow.  Eventually it ends up at $37.  Not a great result.

At the airport I find the exact same objects for a quarter of the price.  Given airports propensity to charge extremes for souverniers as desperate travellers rush to fulfil promises of gifts, this means I have been ripped off to the extreme.

House of Wonders

Not so wonderful.  The building could be spectacular but it has largely fallen into disrepair.  At one time in its life it was the residence of a Sultan in the 19th century.  The only thing wonderful now is the view from the top floor across the harbour.




This building also looks like it could also do with a little maintenance… or complete destruction.


Africa House

This use to be the British Consulate, and before that belonged to one of the Sultans.  Now it is a hotel, and despite being a massive tourist trap it does offer the most spectacular view of sunset, and cocktails served in coconuts.




We are then treated to some token traditional African entertainment, for which they wander around after and request a token of our appreciation… in US dollars.  I recorded some of it, I think they are singing ‘Gold Digger’ by Kanye West.


The walls are lined with old photos and paintings.. Is that Ernie Dingo?


Bath House

A tricky spot to find in the maze of Stone Town's tiny streets.  A local gives us a tour.  This was a fountain:


We go outside and climb to the very top of the bath house to see the spectacular view:




It's really hard to imagine Stone Town in its former glory before so much of it had fallen apart.  The tour guide calls for me to pass down my camera and he will get a photo of Simon and I at the top.  Although by the look of this picture that was on my camera when I got it back, he was just trying to get a view of my arse (looking nicely toned thanks to climbing Kilimanjaro only days earlier!).



Catholic Church

Also tricky to find.  The doors are closed.  They say whenever God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.  Except in Zanzibar, where he erects a tall fence and locked gate with spikes on top of it.


Ticks

Not the biting kind, but it is what the local 'touts' or dodgy unofficial tour guides are referred to, the Swahili word is 'papasi' (thank you Lonely Planet guide for the warning).  They are very convincing, and like to tell you a story about how they're not going to be your guide, they just want to show you around for free, and at the end you can tip them if you want.  (hmm, tour + money = guide in my books).

You can be polite for a while, and they will just get more persistent.  Then try being rude, and they start telling you that's not how people are in Zanzibar, and try and guilt you into using them.  Simon pissed one guy off a lot, who then yelled at him something to the effect of 'f**k you, tomorrow you can just find another guide'.  Thanks, that is what we were after, it is not like there weren't a million other offers to come...

In an effort to avoid this awkward and annoying interchange in future, I decide to attempt being from another nation.  To avoid the tiny possibility that one of these ticks speaks more than just English, I need a country and language they are almost certainly not to recognise.  Estonian is the winner.

So at the next offer of assistance, I just shake my head and say the only things I can say in Estonian being 'Tere, mini nimu on Glenn" or "Hello my name is Glenn", and "Ma armastan sind" or "I love you" (which Indrek kindly taught the whole QML Due Diligence team over the weeks we spent locked in a small room, I can't remember the French or Greek we were also taught...)  This appears to be successful, although I almost commit a massive blunder when one asks where I am from and I answer with 'Estonian'.  Fortunately he didn't pick up on the fact that I had clearly understood his question by providing an answer, and leaves us alone.

This ruse nearly came undone the next day as we waited to be seated for a table at a restaurant.  One of the same guys walks past and shouts "Hey, Estonia!", and can clearly see and hear me speaking to the waiter in English.  Fortunately a table has just opened up so I can quickly get inside before dealing with the situation.  I wonder how he recognised me the next day, when there must be a hundred tourists wandering around that reject him.  Simon points out that I am wearing bright yellow pants and a pith hat, so I am reasonably easy to pick out of a line up...

The restaurant we dine at is apparently the best or second best restaurant in Stone Town, the smoothies are apparently to die for.  It's a hot day, so I'm really looking forward to one, until I see on the blackboard the type of milk they are using in their milkshakes:



Yummmm! Bulls milk!... not so sure about that smoothie now.

Anyhoo, that is the end of the blog edition of Zanzibar.  I will definitely have to come back to Zanzibar in the future, to sample the beaches on the other coasts, and to work my way through the fabulous array of food options.

The last day ends with a 3 hour wait at the airport for our flight, which takes off about 1 hour and 40 minutes late.  Next stop is the Massai Mara in Kenya, where apparently there are lions.

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