Having taken the 11-hour bus ride from Arusha to Dar es Salaam, I got into a cab to Bobby's place. Who is Bobby? Well, to back-track slightly, remember Jodi, who I met in Moshi and ran the first chunk of the half marathon? Well, we had established that she was staying in Dar with a guy named Bobby and I would be able to couch-surf there if I wanted as there was plenty of space. After struggling to find it (it turns out "Bobby's place" is not known to taxi drivers…), I finally arrived and was amazed to see that there was indeed plenty of space: I got a tour and a choice between three spare rooms! I chose the one with air conditioning (!!) as I noticed that I had been gradually melting since arriving. As we went to get groceries, I was shocked by all the expats everywhere and the extent of the selection of products in all the aisles - I was an utterly useless shopper and picked up coffee and cereal and not much else… I had been spoilt with breakfasts and dinners cooked for me for the past month and had forgotten how the whole real life thing worked. After dinner and a board game, I had a ridiculously early night savouring the amazing, huge bed with awesome sheets (ok, maybe I did check the label for thread-count..) and having an entire bedroom to myself - although I was still homesick for Arusha and my roomies.

The next day - my only one in Dar - Jodi and I headed in to town and to the national museum. Again, the moment we stepped out I began to liquify - Dar is without question the hottest city I have ever been to, any kind of physical movement in the daytime is impossible! Having walked around a rather sparse and uninformative museum (one room with photos of the past and current presidents with various other people and no explanations, another about Chinese comics - to commemorate 50 years of Tanzanian-Chinese cooperation, one bit under construction, and a few cars that belonged to the first president), we ventured outside and down the road to a rotating rooftop restaurant that Bobby had recommended to us. It was very fancy and I felt slightly under-dressed and over-soaked for the occasion, but it was pretty empty and the staff there didn't seem to mind. The views of Dar from above were awesome and Jodi pointed out the different parts of the city for me to get my bearings, which saved us plenty of walking! After a buffet-lunch, we grabbed a taxi and raced to get back before rush-hour began - apparently the traffic becomes impossible soon after 4pm. We got back at about the same time as Bobby, who works at USAID and was very excited to catch the beginning of the US College basketball league known as March Madness! After dinner, we headed to one of his colleagues' houses where he had moved his tv to his rooftop terrace/makeshift bar, and we had nachos and beer while watching b-ball with a bunch of Americans - the most surreal evening in Dar!

The next morning, I grabbed a taxi to the port and hopped on the boat to Zanzibar. I decided to save the pennies by going "2nd class", and although I was expecting the worst - not least because they handed me a "sick" bag (literally, the plastic bag had "sick" written on the side) - it was a quick and pleasant journey.The room was air conditioned and the seats were comfy with plenty of space.. The only thing I could imagine being different in 1st class is the Bourne film that was dubbed in a language I couldn't recognise maybe being shown in English. After dropping off my stuff, I took a stroll down the small windy streets of stonetown and was struck by how familiar it all felt: the tourists (everywhere!) milling around, the little cafes with "free wifi", and the souvenir shops with eager owners encouraging you to "take a look - free to look - welcome - come and see, just 2 minutes" made me feel that I could have been in the old part of any town around the mediterranean! It was an odd feeling, and I found myself making a point out of speaking Swahili and staying apart from the other tourists, trying to make it clear that I wasn't one of THEM, even though, well, I totally was right? I did do the standard touristy stuff - I hunted down the national museum, but it was closed for renovation so I went to the Palace Museum instead. The palace that used to serve as the sultan's residence was preserved much as it had been at the time, and gave me my first feel and insight into the Arabian influences on the island. One floor of the palace was dedicated to Princess Salme, or Emily Ruete, who met and fell in love with a German merchant and fled to Europe with him: although I can't imagine leaving a palace on Zanzibar for Hamburg - gutted, Emily - I do like a romantic lovestory!

My touristy needs having been met, I decided to chill in the park where food stalls were being set up and wait for Jennifer, her cousin Andrew, Bettina, and Heike to arrive. We had all been at Ujamaa together (except Andrew) and had worked out that our time in Zanzibar would overlap, and I was looking forward to a reunion! It was great to see them after a couple of weeks' hiatus, and after grabbing some food at the various stalls in the gardens, we went for beers at 6 Degrees South (because apparently that's the latitude of Zanzibar) which looked out over the ocean. It was so brilliant to see everyone again, and great to catch up and exchange stories (they had more than me as I had come straight from Arusha).

The following day, Heike and I went on a Spice Tour while Bettina had rented a scooter to do some independent exploring of the island, and Andrew and Jennifer had some things they wanted to see around Stonetown. The spice tour was amazing: a group of local guides showed us how lots of various spices grow, while also making bracelets, necklaces, rings, and 'handbags' out of the leaves and giving them to us along the way. We were shown vanilla, cocoa, jackfruit (a curious fruit that tasted like a mix between pineapple and banana), nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, ginger, pepper, tumeric… It was fascinating, and I have definitely looked at spices in a different way since. After the tour, we drove to a slave cave (what it says on the tin), and stopped by a beach before heading back. The beach stop was my first dip into the Indian Ocean since arriving in Zanzibar and the temperature was ridiculous: rather than providing some refreshment, it was like a bath in salt-water. (First world problems…) I couldn't believe how warm it was! Back in Stonetown, it was Andrew and Jen's last night: Andrew was heading back to the US while Jen was heading up to Mombasa the next day. We had made plans to meet at a place called Tatu Bar (Tatu is 3 in Swahili and it was on the 3rd floor, nothing to do with the music group) for happy hour, and went for a few drinks before having dinner there. As we came up the stairs I saw a familiar face and recognised Allan who had stayed at Ujamaa for a couple of nights: Small world, it felt like everyone in Tanzania did the Ujamaa Hostel-Zanzibar thang! After dinner, we walked further along the waterfront and watched as the local kids jumped from the seaside promenade into the ocean, doing acrobatic flips and stinging flops into the water. Before we knew it, Jennifer and Bettina had decided to join in, much to the huge excitement of the crowd, and to add to it Jennifer did a mid-air forward flip on her way in too! It was such a sight to behold and, although not keen to get wet and salty at the time, as we waited at a beachside bar for Jen and Bettina to change into dry clothes, Andrew and I were already regretting our decision not to join them. Reunited, we had a few drinks and could hear tunes coming across the water from a floating house that I had seen off shore the day before. There had been a flyer about it at the hostel, and while Bettina and Heike were ready for bed, Andrew, Jennifer and I headed across on the little boat that was shuttling between the house and the shore. The atmosphere on the floating house was a strange one - as one would imagine from a floating house - almost like a house-party where the host has failed to introduce the guests and everyone is feeling slightly awkward. We had a few beers and stayed for a while, but the music had changed and before long we noticed we were the only people, save from a small group of friends who appeared to be staying on the boat. Although we were told we could also "stay until morning", we decided against it and headed back to Karibu Inn.

Feeling like we'd seen all that Stonetown had to offer, the next day Bettina, Heike and I headed to the beach. Our first stop was Jambiani on the south east of the island and, as our first experience of Zanzibari beach, we excitedly got into our swimming things and headed out…. and out…. and out! Hilariously as the tide was out it took us a good 15 minutes of walking through seaweedy sand and small pools to reach the water, and then another 10 minutes to get deep enough to fully submerge (about knee-deep) - considering that our accommodation was right on the beach, we had been convinced we could hop straight in. So, in the mornings we would take advantage of the tide being in, and then we would go to a nearby place for lunch and use their pool! The height of laziness and first world problems!

Bettina's boyfriend had recommended a place that he had been to a bit further up the East coast, so after a couple of nights in Jambiani we headed up to Michamvi and Kae Funk. After a few days in Stonetown our negotiating skills were pretty epic: Having asked the matatu driver how much our ride was and getting a preposterous answer, we all in unison and perfectly matter-of-factly replied, "No" - and gave a more realistic sum. No discussions! Then, having all agreed on our way that we would try and see if the three of us could share a double room for the price of a double room, we didn't even have to ask as the manager automatically assumed that would be the arrangement. A good start! We were led upstairs to our bungalow, which was a perfect-sized room, although we did realise that the open nature of the shower meant we would be getting to know each other rather well all of a sudden. We had some lunch and then decided to explore a little. The tidal thing was not as extreme here, although it is the case all along the West coast of Zanzibar that when the tide is out it is waaay out. So again, we found fancy hotels on either side of us which would let us use the pool. In fact ironically, while the less fancy one insisted on charging us $10, the reeeally fancy one on the other side allowed us to use their pool and beachside loungers for free!

The first night we went to bed pretty early, but before long it was raining and Heike was at the foot of the bed me and Bettina were sharing, asking whether she could squeeze in: the wind was blowing the rain straight on to her bed by the open window! Luckily, there was plenty of space in the bed for three and we simply ignored the occasional drops that we could feel through the roof and slept well. The next night was a Wednesday, which meant it was "keep the funk alive" night - a party at the bar at Kae Funk that brought people from as far as Jambiani and was pretty busy! I should qualify that: bearing in mind the "Monday madness" party that we had gone to in Jambiani was us and five others (including bar staff), the 30-ish people at Kae Funk constituted a pretty massive party compared to what we had been expecting! The party ended abruptly when sudden heavy rain and wind lead to a power-cut and rather chilly and soggy party-goers. Heike had already gone to bed feeling unwell - she had luckily been given another bungalow to herself as her bed was still sopping. So, Bettina and I hurried up the steps (kindly assisted by bar staff with torches) and to our bungalow, only to find confusingly enough that although we had stepped inside and closed the door we still appeared to be getting rained on. In fits of giggles, we realised that the strong wind was carrying the rain further into the room and all the way to our bed, and after an utterly futile attempt at stopping it we scurried over to Heike's bungalow and knocked on her door. Roles were reversed and as she sleepily opened the door, what must have been a sad sight of two soaking wet giggling lunatics only confirmed what she had suspected and after drying off, the three of us again shared a bed.

The next day, apart from soggy cushions and the formation of a brand new lake at the bar, it was as if nothing had happened: the sun was shining and everything was eerily calm! Heike still wasn't feeling well, so while she went back to sleep - having the bed all to herself - Bettina and I went out on a dhow. Dhows are small wooden boats with a big sail that can be seen off the shore everywhere in Zanzibar, and have a bad reputation for being the most dangerous way to get from the mainland to the island. However, we weren't going far, and sailed down the coast through a mangrove forest, stopped for a swim, and headed back again before spending the rest of the day lazing around and catching up on sleep! That evening, I stayed chatting at the bar for a bit while the girls headed back to the bungalows, and chatting with the local who had been our guide on the dhow I discovered that he had lived and studied in Sweden for six years! It was so surreal, sitting at a bar on a tucked-away beach on Zanzibar, talking "Rinkeby-Swedish" with a Zanzibarian - such a small world!

After a lovely few days in Michamvi it was time for us to head back to town: Bettina and Heike were catching a flight home that evening and I wanted to explore another beach. We got a lift after breakfast, again had our various chores in town (that's when I wrote my previous blog post), and met up again at 6 Degrees for sundowners and dinner. It felt like an era was coming to an end - we had had such great fun together over the week and it was going to be strange not waking up to them! It was with a heavy sentimental heart that I went to bed that night, and I look forward to our Ujamaa reunion whenever and wherever that may be!

The next morning, to add to the odd silence I discovered that I was the only one staying in the hostel whatsoever as I went for breakfast and only one place was set.. However, I shook it off, re-packed my little backpack, and headed for the next beach. It wasn't long before I was reminded that I was travelling alone again and an easy target for irritating opportunists. Looking for the matatu I needed, I asked around for directions and I soon noticed that the guy who eagerly offered to show me the way had been the same guy I had passed a couple of hundred meters earlier and had probably been following me. I was wary when he got on the matatu ahead of me, and made sure to ask the driver and other passengers if this was the right direction. In fact, the driver even smelt a rat and told me to sit up front next to him. Before long it was clear that my apparent "friend" wanted me to pay for his ride, and I kicked up enough of a fuss that the others on the matatu were thoroughly entertained, and my so-called "friend" was left red-faced, annoyed, and not about to follow me all the way to my destination. The driver directed me to the matatu I needed to change to, and I got on the other bus relieved to see my "bff" storming off.

My destination was Pongwe, and I was dropped off at Santa Maria Coral Park and soon found the owner who I had spoken to over the phone. He showed me around Santa Maria before driving down the road to his other place, the Queen of Sheba. There, he showed me a double room, with a big en suite shower that I could stay in for the same price as I was staying in a dorm-room in Stonetown. (To be honest, the rain that had been pouring that morning probably helped with my negotiating…) I settled myself onto the "patio", which was a platform that at the time was hovering above the beach. -When I decided to go for a swim later that afternoon, the tide was up and the platform actually hung over the ocean so I could jump straight from the garden path into the sea! I was the only one around, apart from an Australian woman who I saw and chatted to briefly and then didn't bump into again for the rest of my time there! After getting used to the solitude (sunshine, hammocks, and the beach helped…) I settled happily into Pongwe life of doing lots of not much at all! I got there on a Saturday and, although Saluman the owner (nicknamed Sheba because of his Omani heritage, hence the name of the place) mentioned that he was going out if I wanted to join, I looked forward to a quiet evening. After dinner and a few beers chatting with Saluman and his friend Colin, my mind was changed and I headed out with them to a local bar. The football was showing on a couple of small tvs and there was even a pool table squeezed under the roof of the wooden structure that made up the bar. It was busy (even compared to Kae Funk) and we stayed for a few, struggling to stay out of the way of the tv and people going to the bar. Then we headed on to a place that was known to be great on a Saturday night and… it was completely dead! There were two other people there and although Saluman was visibly disappointed and a bit annoyed at having left a busy place for this one, I was enjoying chatting to the "masai" running the bar and proceeded to have some great conversations. Firstly, this chiseled, smiley (and yet, I can't help thinking, probably not really masai) young man had just had news that his child had been born in Denmark! Secondly, I had the most amazingly Zanzibari debate over how truly Zanzibari Freddie Mercury really was: on the one hand, he is a great export, the most famous Zanzibarian ever, and a brilliant musician… but on the other hand, he didn't promote or even advertise his Zanzibar roots or heritage and oh yeah, then there's the whole gay thing (that was sadly Saluman's main point). We came to no conclusion but I got a lot out of it nonetheless!

The next day was a quiet one, I hung out in the sunshine in various places - hammock, poolside next door, deck chair, etc etc. Then I had dinner and a ridiculously early night, and the next morning headed back to Stonetown: I was going to get the overnight ferry to Dar that night and needed to get my ticket. On my way, I encountered something I'd seen several times on the various public transport I'd taken in Tanzania: when people get on to a packed matatu, they hand their goods or bags to someone already sitting while they got on and then took it back once seated. The amusing part is that babies are treated in the same way - they are handed to someone and passed along back to the mother once seated. Hilariously, sometimes the mother won't bother taking the baby back for a while, and someone else is left cradling an extremely well-behaved and bundled-up baby. So, as I travelled back to Stonetown, I found myself with a baby plonked in my lap and an unhappy - but still totally silent - baby boy staring back up at me. "Why has this mzungu (white person) got me?"

Getting back to the bustling, new and "local" part of Zanzibar town (finally, a supermarket!) I bumped in to Esther, who had also stayed at Ujamaa and wanted to join me in heading down to Malawi. She was in the middle of looking for a pharmacy, so I went to get our boat tickets, strolled around the now-very-familiar streets of Stonetown, and had dinner with Esther at Mercury's before catching the boat. This was an interesting experience: since the trip to Dar really doesn't take long but the ports close at night the boat leaves the port, hangs out for a while before heading to Dar, hangs out for a while on that end, and then docks at 6am. The night's sleep wasn't the best I've ever had, and it seemed a very inefficient way to travel, but as there was limited actual movement the journey was a relatively comfortable one.

Reflecting on my time in Zanzibar, it is such a fantastic place and, although so much of the fun was thanks to the great people I was there with, it is definitely somewhere I want to return to. Stonetown was a strange oasis of European-ness and tourist central, although the jumping into the sea at night was a definite highlight (and one reason I need to go back)! I'm glad we also got to experience the small, quiet beaches and I got to see the side of the island that was less dominated by large resorts and more nestled in amongst actual villages. I'd never be able to re-create the experience without Jennifer, Andrew, Bettina, and Heike, but it feels like there is so much on the island as well as off the shores that I have yet to see, as well as beautiful places I would love to return to one day and I highly recommend it - the sooner the better as by the sounds of it the resorts will soon be taking over! So Zanzibar, asante sana, hamna shida, hakuna matata and badai! 'Til next time!

*Again, the photo isn't mine, all rights go to www.theluxtraveller.com with my very own photos coming soon!