The R&R Big Adventure

From one extreme to another

Saturday night we ate in a roof top restaurant of a boutique hotel which had a lovely view across the port. Stone Town reminded me of Marrakech in some ways – a few lovely hotels and restaurants, hidden down some badly lit, dusty alleyway, but which would appear suddenly around a corner like an oasis amongst the many rundown buildings. Stone Town is a UNESCO site, but clearly a work in progress, as scaffolding and metal barriers surrounded a lot of the historic buildings that are in need of restoration.

On Sunday we had booked to visit two of the major attractions around Stone Town: Prison Island and Nakupenda Sandbank, both reached by small boat. We were advised – not that we needed telling – to not buy a trip off a street vendor, but go through a reputable company, which we did via the Get Your Guide app. However when we turned up as instructed at the meeting point on the beach, there didn’t appear to be any difference between those booking on spec at the beach, or those who had booked in advance. We were all told to wait until the boats were ready, and then about 30-40 tourists were all walked to the beach, where several un-seaworthy going vessels were waiting to start the day’s excursion. A bit like the boats waiting at the beach to go to Tayrona National Park in Colombia (see ‘Day 12’ entry) – we felt like refugees off to the English Channel, as we were divided up in groups, and hurried onto cramped boats. This time at least we weren’t pounding the waves – on the contrary, the small outboard motor seemed like it would conk out at any moment.  First stop was Prison Island (or Changuu island as it is known locally, after the fish that swim in these waters), a small island 30 mins from Stone Town that was established as a prison for unruly slaves at the end of the 19^th century (Stone Town was a major African slave trading hub) but was never used as such, instead becoming a quarantine centre for slaves arriving from all parts of Africa, before being transported off in boats. It is now a nature reserve for giant turtles, and attraction for hordes of tourists. Having mostly encountered respectful and culturally aware tourists on our travels, all the naff ones seemed to have arrived on Prison Island. Zanzibar is predominantly Muslim, yet middle-aged men with guts hanging below their crotches were walking around shirtless. Signs everywhere said ‘please don’t touch or feed the turtles’ – yet many did to take selfies; others shoved and pushed in front of people in the museum. Where did they all come from?

From there we were bundled back on to boats (this was marketed as a ‘private tour’) to chug to Nakupenda sandbank. As the name would suggest, it is an undeveloped sandbank about 20mins from Stone Town, with crystal blue waters lapping at its shores. Idyllic, apart from the 40 or so boats all moored on every available bit of beach. The crew would then set up make shift pagodas with the poles and sheets carried on their boats, under which they would unstack the many plastic chairs they were also transporting. This would then become a BBQ picnic stop for lunch. A ‘private tour’ now became grilled seafood and chips with 30 other people. To be fair, we were on powder white sand, with beautifully clear water surrounding us on all sides, and with a great view back to Stone Town. However, having seen how some of the boat crew washed up their utensils (a quick sloosh in the sea water), and a less than thorough grilling of the shellfish, we were convinced at least one of us would be spending the night on the toilet.

On the stroke of 3pm, the ‘refugees’ were rounded up onto their respective boats again, and we continued our return journey back to Stone Town. We seemed to gain another three locals on our boat for our return leg, but the outboard motor just about held out. No-one left anything in the tip box that had been optimistically placed in the middle of the overcrowded boat.

Dinner on Sunday was at The Cape Town Fish Market – probably the best location in Stone Town, on a small pier out to sea, with a lovely breeze blowing through the open-sided restaurant all evening. Entertainment for the evening was watching a table of young women next to us, celebrating (we assumed) one of the friends’ birthday, who then proceeded to dominate the table and give a monologue that went on… and on…. and on… for most of the time we were there. I can imagine what the ‘friendship group’ social chats, ex-birthday girl, would have been like after their meal finally finished.

It seemed the shellfish from the sandbank had been cooked ok as there were no dramas Sunday night. Monday morning we started doing a leisurely stroll around the old town, but the sun even at that time in the morning was intense, with high humidity again, so we retreated to some shade, and eventually headed back to the apartment to catch up on a mountain of ironing and some admin. Dinner that evening was accompanied with another sunset view, in the same Beach House restaurant we had had lunch in on our first day. Back at the apartment we caught up on the first couple of episodes of ‘Amandaland’.  I hadn’t watched TV since ‘Gavin and Stacey’ in a very wet Fiji at Christmas.

This morning we left the apartment mid-morning and had organized a driver to take us to Kizimikazi, a small town on the south-west coast of the island. We are staying in a lodge for one night that has a beautiful location set on the coast. We thought it was quiet here, but then found out from the waiter at lunch we are the only ones staying here tonight (it has about twelve lodges). During our travels in Africa we have stayed in places where there have been only a couple of other rooms occupied, but not where we have the place to ourselves. Despite being the only guests, the barman still managed to get my vodka and tonic order wrong (it must be something about the word vodka – it seems to flummox many English-speaking waiters here). This place can best be described as having rustic charm – great location, and lots of nature around (we can expect to see monkeys and dik diks in the grounds this evening) – but you need to check first before sitting on a wooden chair or sunbed, in case it collapses underneath you.

We have already put our order in for dinner – we have both chosen the same as it would seem unfair on the chef otherwise – and are looking forward to a very intimate dinner for two, and our last sunset on the west coast.