Day Two in Zanzibar

I wake up refreshed after a good night’s sleep. Basic breakfast at the hotel, and then off to explore Stone Town. This is the old city of Zanzibar, looking very much like it sounds, with small winding alleyways. You can’t worry about getting lost. It’s best just to wander and know that eventually you’ll find your way back to where you started.

I find a nice rooftop bar (see pictures from last post) and enjoy a lovely cup of spiced tea as the city continues to wake up, and read my book. I’ve managed to bring along a book that I can’t put down, but of course will be done by tomorrow – if not tonight. Luckily I have one other, as well as a final reserve back in Nairobi. We’ll see if that lasts me for the next five weeks; I’m somehow doubtful.

I stumble into the market, with spices galore, mangoes aplenty, and the requisite meat being butchered up. Markets in Africa aren’t for the squeamish or weak stomached. I resist buying any spices for the moment, but certainly have them on my list before I leave. The cinnamon bark is found in thick curly chunks. Cloves, cardamom, fresh vanilla beans, saffron, curries, masala, and more. I hear the spice tour is nice, so I’ll be headed there sometime during my trip.

Stone Town is known for its small alleyways and incredible architecture.

Zanzibar is known for its mixture of African and Arabic cultures, but as you can see, the various influences abound.

I find a nice café in the afternoon, drink a delicious vanilla latte, and continue to read my book.

I later make my way to a beach side bar that is supposed to have wifi. After only a couple of minutes of skype chatting with my husband it goes out. I suppose it is better than nothing. In the mean time I watch as boys jump off the pier and frolic in the warm ocean water. I wonder how the girls refresh in the humid heat.

Zanzibar is known for its unique doorways as well as being the spice island.

Massive cinnamon sticks, anise, cardamon, fresh vanilla beans, saffron and so much more abounds.

A ferry barge arrives and pulls itself up the beach. Men carry boxes back and forth like worker bees coming to a fro from the hive. They make short order of several large truck loads of cargo.

On the other side of the beach, young men practice backflips in the sand. I’m still waiting for African gymnasts to take over the Olympics. Give these guys any equipment and I have every confidence that we’d have some gold medalists in the mix.

Now it’s 7:20 on a Saturday night. I missed that tonight would be the full moon festivals up on the coast, or I would have headed out of town for those. Now to see if I end up meeting any fellow tourists, or where my night takes me. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach is lovely.

I managed to find a crew on their tale end of adventures climbing Kilimanjaro and doing Safari in Kenya/Tanzania. A nice German couple, a Swiss gal, and a Canadian guy. Good times.

Miel