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Well, this is it. The end is nigh. No more wanderings. In fact, the end has come and gone as I’m now back in good Ol’ Blighty, a hefty £5200 lighter (and that’s not including pre-trip and flight costs), where the only noticeable difference is the badgers that visit our garden have had a baby, and our bathroom is now painted white. Joy. Tony Blair is still in power, Mum is still watching Emmerdale five nights a week, and ‘going for a curry’ and wearing a hoodie is still all the rage amongst the teenage population. Indeed, sitting at the same computer that I wrote my first blog on, it sometimes feels like I haven’t actually gone anywhere, as, like Will predicted, it’s gone by shockingly quickly. But then I turn round and see all the postcards I’ve sent to my folks, messily arrange like a rugby scrum on the mantelpiece - at least one for each of the 16 countries - and it all comes flooding back.

From Arabian Nights to British Pub Nights

Simon Wadsworth
2007-08-24 13:28:47

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about the books I was reading - the ultimate winding down after 40 weeks. I split my time evenly between Stone Town and the beach, starting with three days in the former. I loved Stone Town, nearly as much as Lamu, despite all the tourists with their expensive cameras, wearing bright-coloured I-don't-give-a-toss shorts in the narrow Muslim streets. I spent hours doing nothing but wind my way through the intricate and intimate streets, tossing a coin over whether to take the stony left path or stony right path, and stumbling upon little schools, or a group of rough-legged kids having endless fun being chased by a fat turkey, or ten scrawny cats scavenging some orange peels, or three old men playing boa on a step. It was a world unto itself and together with Stone Town's coast and glorious fiery sunset each night, was a nice place to slowly wind down and take a deep breath from the stress of African travel.

It would also be a crime not to praise the food. Mostly, it was lots of men with their big BBQs, but actually really good food for a change. One night I treated myself to a tasty BBQ buffet at the Old Fort, accompanied by some live music and dancing - though the dancing wasn't the best, and a little unnerving when two of the dancers ground their hips round my table while I was eating and everyone else watching. For my other two nights however, I ate at the open food stalls in Forodhani Gardens, a place impossible to miss and you would be an idiot if you did (..or a vegetarian). From a distance you see a dozen stalls along the coast, with smoke wafting through the air lit up by bright table lights, and up close, tables filled with skewers of fresh fish: tuna, red snapper, barracuda, white shark and lots of unappetizing, but tasty, octopus tentacles, squid and lobster. Your eyes take in the feast, you choose what you want, wait for it to be BBQd, then your mouth takes in the feast. Mmmm

Besides the fishy stuff, Zanzibar is also famous for its spices, and lots of them. Cloves, vanilla, lemon grass, turmeric, nutmeg, pepper, cinnamon, cardamom, all the spices we find neatly packed on shopping shelves, except in Zanzibar, where I got to see them all growing in their natural state on a fascinating little spice tour. I even found a natural form of red lipstick, perfect for those fancy dress nights! Historically, the trading in spices and especially cloves has only blossomed in the past century, after the eventual collapse of Zanzibar's other important trade, slaves. Starting as early as the 9th Century, Zanzibar became one of the last open slave markets in the world, only becoming illegal thanks to Dr Livingstone (of the 'I presume' fame) in the 1870s, and then continuing into the 20th Century illegally, hidden in caves and underground chambers like the one in the photo. Even today, arguably
the poor conditions continue with the low wage rates many Zanzibaris receive at the Spice Farms.

Nevertheless, Zanzibar is still much better off than its rival mainland of Tanzania. The average life expectancy on the island is 7 years more than its neighbour, while its literacy rate is about 10% higher at 80%, and those infected with HIV/AIDS is around 2%, as opposed to 8% on the Tanzanian continent, despite Zanzibar having a population composed of over 95% Muslim. It's clear in many ways that Zanzibar is doing well for itself, and sitting on the beach at a Stone Town hotel, sipping my expensive coke (well, Western price) from a wine glass, it's easy to forget I'm even in Africa.

This feeling continues as I head 30km to the opposite side of the island, to a ghost village called Paj