Three African countries a year was our mantra, when we moved to SA, however, it has been a disappointment that this is only our fourth, in four years!
I’ve always been intrigued by Dar es Salaam, the capital of Tanzania. In my childhood I had a friend who had lived there, which made it very exotic. Tanganika, as this country was called, got its independence in 1961, and in 1964 it joined forces with Zanzibar, a separate country, to form Tanzania.
We will spend a day there, to tick the box, however, first up to Stone Town, the capital of Zanzibar, an island of 1,500,000 people, off the east coast of Africa, in the Indian Ocean.
To get here involved the mandatory 2 hours from CPT to JNB, a hangover of the World Cup, where the investment in the latter airport sees the Govt send most travellers through Jo’berg to get anywhere in Africa. Another three hours plus and we are arriving in Stone Town, the most delapitated airport I’ve been in for a long time. Customs involved US$50 each, for a visa and the baggage reclaim involved 3 chaps reluctantly bringing bags through a hole in the wall, a few bags at a time! There is a new terminal, started over 15 years ago, however, a succession of Governments, hamstrung by corruption still haven’t completed it!
Stone Town is best known as the home of Freddie Mercury’s childhood. The old part looks like a cross between Havana, buildings suspended in time, India with dirty, shambolic little lanes with bicycles and mopeds, speeding through them towards you, as you walk, and the Caribbean, palm trees, beaches and sunsets. It’s a stretch to call it bohemian, however, if you can see past the delapitation, it’s quite charming.
Our hotel can only be reached on foot, our third floor room, by 67 steps at a steep gradient. It’s above the city, looking out over corrugated roofs, towards the busy port. Sounds of the call to prayer, it’s a Muslim country, ships sirens, raucous crows, fill the air. Our room is wooden, trellis walls and billowing, thick silk curtains which prove no defense to a monsoon rain on our second morning. It’s hard to keep the streets/lanes clean with daily rain. It’s quite an experience walking the lanes without a map, winding around between gazilions of small businesses. You are not hassled, English is the second language, everybody has a “Hakuna Matata” or “Jambo, Jambo”, to greet you.
It’s an expensive country, at least by African standards. We find a well reviewed coffee house where the Barista of the Year makes us her flat white, which has been sprinkled with cinnamon and cardoman, it’s delicious. Most buildings have a roof top terrace, our hotel’s is divine. It’s breezy, whereas it’s humid on the street level, the food is really tasty, good cocktails, sunset, interesting music...... followed by the sort of sleep that induces rigamortis!
We’ve had a stressful few months before getting here. You know how it is when you look forward to an end game that sees an end to it. That’s this holiday! What we didn’t need, was an email from our travel agent, to say that our carefully chosen hotel for the beach holiday section of the trip, was not going to open and that they had arranged alternative accommodation for us!
The hotel is managed by a Swiss company and I’d rang them twice to get reassurances about their redevelopment, before confirming our booking. They were now moving us to the only accommodation available, on the tidal side of the island. To cut a long, 24 hours, story short, we finally got what we wanted but not before launching our collective howitzers in the direction of Lugano!
We are now at a great resort, on the north coast, next to no rain, a minimal tide, lower humidity and, after the last few weeks... perfect!! There’s not a lot to report when it comes to the perfect beach holiday! A lovely room, great beach, good facilities, ok food... that’s how it was for 6 days!
We head to Dar es Salaam by ferry, it’s a two hour hop in a large catermeran. Arriving at a chaotic ferry terminal was fun, we were being met which is really reassuring when all around you is a seething mass. Much more fun than flying! This is a box ticking exercise, another beach hotel on the outskirts of town, it’s a hot, humid day and the AC isn’t working in our room, however, things get sorted out and it serves its purpose of getting us back to Cape Town and visiting a city that’s always intrigued me!
We were talking to my son, Rory, who was setting off from San Fracisco as we went to bed on Thursday evening. He has three flights, 22 hours of flying before we pick him up in Cape Town on Saturday morning! Quite a schlep!