The Annas do Zanzibar. By the “annas”, I mean RoANNA and me, PrasANNA.
On Sunday, Roanna and I reluctantly left Cristiano to recuperate and made our way to Zanzibar. Our first stop was the ferry terminal to catch our boat from Zanzibar to Dar. Our first order of business was to sell Cristiano’s ferry ticket, so that he could at least recover some of his money from our pre-paid, non-refundable vacation. We approached people and tentatively asked if they wanted to buy an extra ferry ticket that we had. They asked why we were trying to sell it and our explanation that our friend was sick and unable to travel did not seem to assuage all of their uncertainty. Finally, a kind guard took pity on our plight and took charge asking in Swahili if anyone wanted to purchase our extra ticket. A number of people stepped forward and we were able to sell the ticket for the full price that Cristiano paid. Yay!
Well….the ferry ride. What can I say? My friend and I developed an expression back home to describe when either of us was feeling nauseous – we said it was like taking a ride “uptown on the upchuck express.” The rocky ride was memorable and Roanna was so much more of trooper, eschewing the Gravol that I relied on to get me from Dar to Zanzibar with my stomach intact. Thank goodness for Gravol – even though I didn’t tell Roanna at the time - I am totally positive that it saved me from hurling over the side of the ferry.
We arrived in Stone Town, the port town on Zanzibar and made our way from the ferry docks into the town following the brutal map that was in our Bradt Guide. First off, the map is totally out to lunch when it comes to the scale of things – it made things appear much farther apart than they actually were. Furthermore, Stone Town is composed of numerous meandering, weaving, cobblestone streets (more like alleyways) that do not have proper names. The person who drew the map might as well have been a five year old with a black BIC pen scribbling on the page – because the picture had absolutely no correlation to the paths. In addition to the wonky map and the meandering streets, we were confronted by pesky tour guides who refused to leave us alone and began to play the tried and true game of “Guess our Ethnicity?” Wherever I go, I am always faced with people who randomly shout out countries and try to guess where I am from. This time, Roanna also had the distinct pleasure of participating in this game with people yelling at us in many different languages. The funniest is when one person thought I was from Denmark. Whenever you asked the guides to leave you alone, they responded with a huge smile and the phrase “Hakuna Matata” which as you know based on the Lion King means “no worries”. They then continue to follow you and regardless of what you say, respond with Hakuna Matata to the point where you are so completely exasperated that the mere mention of Hakuna Matata will drive you up the wall and around the bend.
After we finally found our hostel, we set down our bags and made our way through the streets of Stone Town again to explore and to visit some of the sites. Stone Town seems frozen in time – from another era. At one point, we encountered a group of people sitting on one of the meandering streets huddled around a TV set watching a soccer game.
Our first stop was trying to locate the Fordhani Gardens. We soon discovered that the Fordhani Gardens were under major renovation and only scheduled to reopen sometime in January 2009. As such, we made our way to Changu / Prison Island by boat which has this tortoise sanctuary where there are huge and I mean MUTANTLY huge tortoises – it was like the real-life, all-too-real version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – these turtles were big and slow and interesting! You pay admission to enter the sanctuary on the island and feed the tortoises spinach. The guide told us that turtles also eat mangos, papaya and all sorts of other fruits and veges. Don’t let their vegan diet fool you – these turtles have ridiculously sharp teeth and you pretty much have to drop the spinach as it gets closer to their mouths in order to save your fingertips. I also found the sanctuary hilarious because we were surrounded by signs that said DO NOT FEED THE TORTOISE, even though the very object of the sanctuary is to allow visitors to feed the animals. We also had the distinct misfortune of walking past some tortoises in the process of procreation – nothing romantic about it – let me tell you.
We then visited the old prison which is now some sort of combination book shop, hostel and party space – it was unclear what exactly it was used for. Historically, the prison was built to house slaves but it is unclear if it was ever used for that purpose. The building provided some of the most beautiful views of the beach/ocean and there was this idyllic boardwalk leading back to the beach where I can only describe the sand as being like Rogers Brown Sugar – it was so soft and the colour was exactly like brown sugar. I got a chance to revert to being a child again – drawing designs in the sand, building things and taking pictures of the other people and their sand creations. A lovely afternoon indeed!
