We set off in the morning from the beach at Fumba village, 30 minutes drive from Stone Town. Sure enough, groups of pretty young things in trendy swimwear were hanging around, waiting for the tour and Valeria and Francesca were soon spotted by two handsome Italian guys who peeled off from their pack and began making a bee-line for us. I quickly explained to the girls I wouldn’t be offended if they left me out of the matter and moved away to talk to the guide.

He explained we would set off by dhow to a sandbank were we could take our time snorkelling and soaking up the sun. Then we would walk along the reef to the desert island of Kwale for a buffet lunch and return at sunset to Fumba.

As we waded out to the large dhows waiting for us in the bay, carrying our rucksacks high, the girls turned to me and winked to let me know they were happy with their catch. I too was happy to slip into my own world again. We divided into three groups and guides helped us clamber on the dhows and find a place to sit on on the deck. Then we set off towards the Menai Bay Conservation area, the waves slapping at the side of the boat and covering us with cooling spray. When we were out to sea our guides turned off the motors and explained that if we were lucky we might catch site of either the humpback or bottlenose dolphins. We peered anxiously over the sides of the dhows into the turquoise waters but nothing happened. The guides started up the engines again with the aim of moving us to a different spot but then, as soon as they did so, two fins in perfect harmony lifted out of the water in front of us and slide back in again. There was a frenzied rush to rescue cameras, which we had already packed away but, probably like most people, I only managed to capture two small pools of froth on the waves after the creatures had long gone. There is something so special about sighting dolphins but I wasn’t so sure the dolphins would have been as enthralled with 30 odd cameras pointed at them.

By the time we arrived at the gleaming white sand bank it was close to midday and as soon as we splashed our way up onto the beach from the boats, crew who had travelled ahead of us were waiting to hand us refreshing coconuts to drink from and the chance to sit under some temporary awnings. We were invited to pick out snorkelling equipment, flippers and a mask, and left to explore. I felt a little apprehensive about going in to the sea alone, the girls were nowhere to be seen, but I waded in nevertheless and to my delight the reef around the sandbank never dipped deeper than around 15 feet so I felt quite safe. Suddenly travelling with a large group of strangers seemed worth it as an underwater world of exquisite beauty opened up in front of me. Better than any snorkelling experience I had had before, I felt utterly relaxed as I gently glided between coral outcrops marvelling at the multitude of multicoloured fish, shells and wriggly things. I only had one panicky moment when I spotted a translucent jellyfish hanging beneath the surface like a little plastic bag and I had to quickly change direction. It was only when I remembered that I’d forgotten to apply sun cream to my back that I decided to leave the coral playground and clamber awkwardly up onto the beach in my large back flippers.

The sun was blisteringly hot and I felt quite dizzy so I sat in the shade for a while almost everyone else turned their bodies on the beach barbecue. After what seemed like an eternity we were summoned to return our snorkelling equipment and instructed that as the tide was out we could walk along the green and crusty reef to Kwale Island for lunch. Any tourists with trouble walking were taken in a dhow. The rest of us had to walk.

I can tell you, walking across coral is not easy. It’s slimy, slippy and can hurt the soles of your feet through your flip flops. It took a good twenty minutes to get to the island and by the time I arrived I was starving. We were ushered up the beach to toilet facilities and a lunch area with long trestle benches next to a steaming grill. The guides handed out iced drinks and we queued up to pile our plates with fish, slipper lobster, calamari, rice, chicken tamarind and coconut sauces. Nothing had ever tasted so good! The lobster was out of this world. After lunch the guides cut up a selection of local fruits for us to taste and a shot of amarula and coffee to help us digest everything. We lazed around chatting after lunch – I was sitting with a couple who owned a safari lodge on the mainland – but soon the Italian girls came and grabbed me to take me for a whirlwind spin on a catamaran.

About ten of us squashed onto the two floats to balance it out and our guide took us out to sea and back in a 15 minute round trip. We spluttered with laughter as the waves drenched us and the boat rocked dangerously from side to side. By the time we were back on firm ground I had to take a quick nap on the beach to get over it all!

At about 4pm we packed up out things and plied in the dhows again to set off back to Fumba. We were taken on a tour of a Mangrove forest on the way back. The tide was high and the guide said it would be wonderful to swim in the waters but I suppose everyone was exhausted by the sun, snorkelling and food as I was because no one volunteered.

The guides put the sails up for the way home as the sun began to sink in the sky. It was a very soothing and mesmerizing experience to glide over the waves. Even Francesca, Valeria and their two Italian stallions had fallen silent. The golden light of the sun held us in a trance until we came in to shore where our driver was waiting to take us back to Pongwe.

Remembering Pongwe Beach

Zack left Zanzibar for Prague yesterday and I can’t believe how much I miss him. We’ve been thick as thieves for two months doing absolutely everything together. I’ve completely lost my sense of at-oneness I had before Zack arrived. I can’t remember who wrote this old adage: “Loneliness is the absence of another; Aloneness is the presence of oneself”, but it is so true. Before Zack I felt alone, but good. Now I feel damn lonely. It will take me a while to start writing again and feel strong but there is much to do and I can afford to stay here for a while yet. Zack says he will come back in September but we’ll see…

I drove Zack to the airport yesterday in a little jeep we hired for a few days. We had the whole day to play with, as his flight to ‘Dar’ wasn’t till evening so we parked up at the Old Fort in Stone Town and went souvenir shopping. First we dropped off Zack’s case at the Emerson and Green Hotel. I had been dying to visit this place as it was once an Omani palace and has been beautifully restored keeping all the grandeur of the past. On display in the lobby are the paintings of Hassan Kadudu who is the most happening artist in Zanzibar. He paints life in Zanzibar in thick colourful oils in the style of impressionists. After admiring the lobby and squeezing in a cheeky G&T in the lavish Kidude restaurant we began our mission to stock Zack up with gifts for all his friends back home. I thought it would be fun to tell you something about each typical Zanzibarian souvenir we bought and a little bit of the history behind them.

First up is the Khanga, the Kiswahili name for what we’d call a ‘sarong’ in the UK – a length of colourful cloth to wrap around your body. Khanga is the Kiswahili word for the guinea fowl. The material is reputedly named after the bird because the busy pattern resembles the bird’s speckled feathers. Khangas are decorated with a profusion of patterns and vivid colours. They used to be worn as a functional item of clothing by locals but now they have become fashion statements in their own right. Khanags are thought to have originated from the large handkerchiefs that were always carried by the Portuguese colonials in the 19th century. Swahili women began buying the scarf like material and sewed the various pieces together to wear over their shoulders and round their waists as large colourful wraps, usually with matching head gear. They soon became central to Swahili culture as traditional wear so much so that the Khanga is often referred to as the national dress of Zanzibar. The most obvious features are the distinctive patterns but less obvious are the short inscriptions that appear along the edges of most khangas. Usually written in Swahili, these were apparently introduced by the famous Mombassa trader Kaderdina Hajee Easak in the early 1900s as a way of boosting sales. They were usually sentiments from a husband or loved one who gave the khanga as a gift. Today they are proverbs and mottos about life in general like ‘Once you taste a pineapple, you will never go for any other fruit.’

Next is the game of Bao. This is the most popular board game on the island of Zanzibar. Playing Bao is as popular as playing football in many villages. The basic rules are simple but it can become incredibly complicated. The Bao board is carved from wood (traditionally mahogany or ebony) and has 32 holes arranged in four rows of eight. The game involves placing 64 seeds into the holes in an ongoing series of tactical moves. The aim is to clear your opponents front row= of seeds by capturing them, or to make it impossible for him to move. Positions can change rapidly as players gain the upper hand and it often looks like it would be far to fast to follow if you see a game being played by the road side. Bao is thought to have been derived from a game brought to the East African Coast by Persian traders. It is one of the mancala board games that all originate in either Africa or Asia.

And finally the ubiquitous tinga tinga art. Back in the 1960s, painting as an art was virtually unheard of in Tanzania. Because of this, West African artists had moved across the continent to claim the tourism market, successfully selling their works to the burgeoning number of foreigners visiting the country. It was these artists that inspired Eduard Said Tingatinga. Born in the far south of the country in 1937, Tingatinga moved to Dar es Salam after school and began painting impressions of village life in his spare time while he worked as a doctor. One day he was asked to paint the outside walls of his employer’s home and he painted a bright collage of animal and human figurines inspired by his village upbringing. His work received much praise and his career as an artist flourished, his style influencing a whole new generation of artists in Tanzania. Today, thousands of painters make a living from tinga tinga art and their paintings still show the brimming colours and unaffected style developed by Tingatinga. Their subject matter is still confined to three broad themes: a single animal, village life and the spiritual world.

Zack bought me a beautiful Khanga as a farewell gift. The inscription means ‘Your lovely scent soothes my heart’. Well that’s what the shopkeeper told us, and I’d like to believe him!

Nungwi is famous for it’s buzzing nightlife and very laid back vibe. This northernmost tip of Zanzibar is the heart of the island’s budget tourism industry and teaming with student back-packers and ageing hippies reminiscent of somewhere like Goa. The actual village of Nungwi is still a traditional fishing village and is the centre of Zanzibar’s dhow-building industry. It’s at night time the beaches are alive with bonfires, drumming sessions, crowds of partygoers and music from the bars. A far cry from the tranquillity of Pongwe. Zack and I are planning dusk till dawn bar crawl after his dive course. Yippee!

Zack has gone to dive at Leven Bank today. He’s a qualified diver and this is a site only recommended for experienced divers as it’s 18-40 meters deep and often has strong currents although the water of the Indian Ocean is fed by the South Equatorial current that sweeps in from the distant Southeast Asian regions and is warm and clear. Leven Bank is situated north of Nungwi. There are honeycomb and pillar corals on the bank-like reef and it’s common to spot stingrays, white tip reef shark, whale shark, grouper and moray eels. Not for me!

An intriguing starfish

The coral world goes back over 350 million years and comprises the highest density of living creatures found anywhere in the oceans. Coral is also a creature which flourishes in the shallow waters of the tropics. Individually they are known as polyps and the effect of millions of polyps living in colonies produces the massive limestone structures called reefs. There’s loads of literature here warning divers about the effects humans can have on this delicately balanced ecosystem. It sounds hideous but the coral has already been damaged by oil spills, unsustainable fishing practices such as trawling and the use of dynamite, human sewage, sedimentation and coral collectors. Not to mention the carbon dioxide build-up in the atmosphere leading to global warming.

Aliens?

However, the Zanzibar Archipelago offers some of the best dive sites found anywhere in African waters and I only hope that the majority of divers dive responsibly. You are warned against encouraging hawkers by buying coral, seashells or any other marine souvenirs on sale in beach stores. Even though all this stuff is freely available, it’s actually illegal for them to sell it to you.

Coral

While Zack’s been in deep water, I visited the turtle sanctuary in Mnarani Natural Aquarium. Unfortunately turtles have become an endangered species here as the hawksbill turtles have always been hunted by locals in Zanzibar for their shells and for their meat. Until recently, female turtles were also traditionally hunted during their nesting periods, while fishermen stole their eggs to eat. This Aquarium was opened to protect them in 1993 and is built around a natural tidal pool in the coral rock behind the beach. It is amazing to see the turtles even though the aquarium was smaller than I had envisaged but there are dozens of the endangered hawksbill and green turtles to watch. I might go on a snorkelling trip as well but the rain has been a bit erratic so I think I’ll take full advantage of watching the TV and getting on with a bit of work until it’s time to hit the beaches and the nightlife!

Traditional Zazibarian fishing boats

So imagine my surprise when Zack announced he was whisking me away for a mini-break to a five star resort. He was probably tired of sleeping on my floor but whatever his motive, I packed with the anticipation of an excited child. Zack had booked us a night at the end of March at Matemwe Bungalows through Pongwe staff, who are friendly with the management there. (Matemwe closes in April and May for the rainy season.) We travelled up by taxi which took 3 hours and was a bit of a mission as a lot of the roads are either in the middle of being built or are stony dirt tracks. There is a lot of development along the coast and I’m sure that in a couple of years time (or less) a network of freshly tarmaced roads will lead to a plethora of shiny resorts.

Matemwe bungalows are perched on a coral cliff on the northeast coast of Zanzibar island overlooking the Mnemba Atoll. Next to the coral outcrop is Matemwe village, the last village on the East coast. It’s a classic Swahili fishing village with a huge white beach bustling with village folk, some dragging nets or sacks of seaweed or balancing baskets on their heads, their children winding behind them. The sea is often so shallow here you can wade all the way out to the reef at low tide. If you’re not up on marine life you can hire a guide on the beach who will provide you with special shoes to protect you from the spiky sea urchins and will point out a multitude of varieties of colourful fish, starfish and shellfish.

As we drove through the dusty lanes of Matemwe village narrowly avoiding chickens and cockerels sprinting in our path, little children ran after our car waving and shouting greetings at us in broken English. And after a few more turns and bumps we saw the unobtrusive entrance to Matemwe Bungalows ahead of us, a simple sign over an arched gateway and a trellis of flowers. No cars can drive up to the reception so we parked outside the gate and unfolded our cramped limbs from the car. A porter was waiting for us to help with our bags and he led us up the winding path to the reception area. As we followed him in a daze we drank in the luscious surroundings. Mature landscaped gardens ablaze with flowers. All we could hear was birdsong and the occasional gecko scurrying for shelter.

A gecko hiding in the undergrowth

We checked in with the charming manager and armed with two enormous coconuts and straws we followed the porter through the gardens to our bungalow. Each bungalow is built of local stone and crowned with huge thatched roofs. Even though the designs are Swahili, I felt the bungalow had a Moroccan feel to it with its solid white stone walls, patterned floor cushions and low tables with incense burners and elegant teapots. Our generous sized veranda overlooking the ocean was decorated with a double hammock and a broad solid bench to laze on and contemplate the unbroken skyline. After running around and snapping each other swinging in the hammock we set off once more in the direction of the lunch buffet.

The beautifully landscaped Matemwe gardens

I could eulogise about the buffet lunch (the skewered prawns in particular), the extraordinary variety of plant life, the chess board with pieces half the size of me or the cool green pond visited by flamingos carved from stone… but I must mention the only thing that irritated me about my experience at Matemwe – the constant strong breeze from the ocean. I’ve never been happy with wind. My hair flies all over the place and makes me feel unsettled. Matemwe bungalows have plenty of sheltered spots but all my favourite ones such as the hammock on the veranda were windy. The bar however is a sheltered spot and after lunch and escaping the windy poolside we stretched out with our cocktails and books on the wide sofas, sheltered by decorative dhow sails and overlooked by the enormous skeleton of a killer whale by the bar. (Apparently the poor creature was swimming off course and washed up in the shallows on Matemwe beach years ago).

Giant chess

The objective of this trip was to relax together as I’ve been tapping away on my laptop for two weeks while Zack’s been off diving so we didn’t plan to visit Mnemba island (a coral atoll with a tropical forest) but I shall save that for another trip. The bar felt cosy and private and after several cocktails Zack and I were deep in conversation. By the time we went back to our bungalow it was dark and the wind had died down. The moonlight reflected on the restless waters was so bright and mesmerizing we sat chatting outside until hunger beckoned us to dinner. Perhaps it was having a bungalow to ourselves, or the sense of being totally separated from the outside world perched on the cliff but we both felt the need to address the ‘bigger questions’ in life that evening. And without giving too much away… a little romance blossomed…

Zack relaxing

A typically serene Pongwe sunrise

Zack is a keen fisherman and diver and I do neither so we agreed to do both during his stay. I wanted to make sure Zack had a welcome feast to remember so I ordered us the seafood platter which is big enough to share and served by candlelight on the beach. Really fresh fish is hard to come by in Prague so I knew it would be a big treat. We gorged ourselves on lobster, shrimp, prawns and crab claws all washed down with a light South African white and forced ourselves to call it a night after several nightcaps and Zack’s third defeat at backgammon.

I woke up without a hangover (I haven’t had one since living here) but with fishing on my mind. I knew Zack was itching to try big game fishing but I knew my sea legs wouldn’t be up for it. I conferred with the front desk team and we came up with a win-win solution for a boy-girl dream day out. Zack would spend a morning game fishing with Ali, who is something of a local celebrity fisherman here, and I would get the chance to be pampered beyond my wildest dreams at a luxury Spa. Then we would meet for lunch at the Spa Hotel. Perfect!

The next day Zack had to meet Ali on the beach at 6.30am which is actually one of the most beautiful and serene times to be out there. The sun has just risen and apart from the Maasai guards at either end, there isn’t a soul in sight. I was woken briefly by the roar of the speedboat engine before dozing off again. My pick up time was not until 8pm. While Zack patrolled the deep waters beyond the coral reef looking for marlin, tuna, barracuda or kingfish, I had a lazy breakfast and hopped in a cab for a very bumpy ride to the Kempinski Hotel, further north up the coast. If the roads had been in better condition it would probably have taken us 20 minutes but instead it took us nearly an hour. The Kempinski Hotel is vast. It occupies a huge stretch of coast with landscaped gardens and concrete structures, restaurants, pools and villas. Not to my taste, far too impersonal, but the kind of minimalist design that lends itself perfectly to luxury spas. And that was what I had come for.

I was greeted at the reception by a Thai therapist (all the therapists are Thai) who led me down cool wide corridors to the Anantara Spa where I was seated in the fragrant reception, served ginger tea and offered a warm towel. It all looked and felt terribly luxurious. Very minimalist, ochre with touches of white and black, scattered flowers, carefully placed elegant volumes on massage, exclusive hotels, alternative therapies. I discussed my treatments with the manager and was led off to an exquisite, spacious suite with massage tables and a bathroom and outdoor shower. I was told to change into loose pyjamas before my 90minute Thai massage. During the massage I was able to lose myself completely while the therapist silently and expertly contorted my limbs, releasing both emotional and physical tension. Afterwards I took a shower outside, my bare feet on decking, high walls hiding me, a rectangle of sunny sky above warming me. Next the salt body scrub that made my skin feel softer than a baby’s and then downstairs for a manicure and pedicure and plenty more of that delicious ginger tea. Stunned to realise I had been in this sanctuary for almost three hours I settled my bill, which by London standards was pretty reasonable, and floated off to meet Zack at the hotel’s Jetty Bar.

He had been dropped off by Ali in the boat an hour ago and was stretched out on a lounger sunning himself with a beer. The jetty juts out 150m over the reef so it was quite a trek to get there. Impressive, but all too vast for me. Zack was waiting for me with an expectant smile. “You look great,” he said waiting for me to ask The Question. So I settled down on a lounger next to him, ordered a drink and asked for the whole story. He proudly told me how he had caught a huge king fish which the bar staff were keeping in the fridge for him. “I caught us supper for tonight,” were the last words I remember Zack saying before I dozed off after my tough morning at the Spa. My nap didn’t last too long and we did manage to have some lunch at the Pool Bar before taking the bumpy taxi ride back to Pongwe. Everyone was very impressed with Zack’s catch and the king fish steaks the chef cooked for us that evening melted in our mouths like butter.

Zack

I will leave you with an interesting fact courtesy of Zack. Did you know that the shortest war ever was between Britain and Zanzibar and lasted 38 minutes? It began when the Sultan of Zanzibar died and his nephew Khalid bin Barghash took control. The British thought he might be in trouble and sent the navy in. Shelling began on August 27th, 1896; after Barghash’s fleet of one ship was sunk, he fled.