As those of you who know me well are aware, I am a rather big fan of Queen. The band that is, not the pleasant old lady who lives in Windsor Castle and whose primary function falls under the banner of revenue raising for the British Tourist Board. As some of you may also know, the lead singer of Queen - Freddie Mercury - was born Farokh Bulsara on September 5th 1946 on the island of Zanzibar. That, if nothing else, was a good enough reason for me to make the trip on one of the world's most insanely over-priced ferries from Dar over to Zanzibar.
Well that, and the fact that Zanzibar is supposed to be rather cool.
We'd finished our truck tour in Dar, but with Zanzibar being an optional side-trip for our companions who were continuing on with the truck, all five of us made the trip over to the legendary spice island with visions of the exotic in our minds. Overpriced though the ferry may have been ($30 for an hour and a half), it got us to the island in good time and we pulled into the port for our first look at the heart of Zanzibar - Stone Town.
It was about 50 feet from the port itself that we saw the first sign of the great man's legacy, a bar called Mercury's and I vowed to return as soon as possible.
Rita and Andre were keen to go off and do their own thing for a while, so that left the terrible trio of Jen, Krissie and I to make our way around and explore the heady colonial/swahili mix of culture and architecture that was Stone Town. That first afternoon was fairly quiet, settling into our hostel and wandering around the centre of town. The real highlight of that first day (along with most other days in Stone Town) was dinner at the night market. A fantastic open-air market of stalls selling kebabs of fish and seafood caught freshly that day, breads, meats, sugar cane juice and wonderful creations called Zanzibar pizzas - like a pancake fried, folded and filled with meat or fish mixed with egg. I ate a lot of them.
The plan was to head north to Zanzibar's fabled beaches, but before that - with a nod to Zanzibar's history as a spice island and major slave trading centre - we went on a Spice Tour, taking in first the primary sights of Stone Town (including the bustling - and quite graphic - local market and the Anglican Christ Church Cathedral, built deliberately over the disturbingly dark and small old slave holding cells) and then following that with a trip out to one of the island's spice plantations.
This was followed, of course, by an obligatory stop at the house it is claimed Freddie Mercury was actually born in. Helpfully, it's even called Mercury House. There's a sign and a plaque, but it's not nearly the shrine that I expected - I think the Freddie Mercury Trust PR department is really missing a trick with this one.
After that fascinating day out, and another fantastic meal at the night market, we returned to Mercury's bar only to be disappointed - despite some Freddie/Queen memorabilia on the walls, it wasn't pumping out Another One Bites The Dust or Don't Stop Me Now, or in fact any Queen whatsoever. It was steaming hot, the beers were expensive, and it was playing chill-out lounge music. Freddie would have been spinning in his grave, if he wasn't already getting so down and debaucherous in the afterlife that he probably hasn't even noticed.
As enjoyable as Stone Town had been, it was the beaches that we were really excited about and so when the five of us arrived at Nungwe beach the next day expectations were high. Then we saw this.
Suffice it to say, we were reasonably satisfied.
And so began several days of heaven on Nungwe beach, where we swam, drank beer, snorkeled, drank beer, lazed on the beach and drank beer. The stretch of sand itself was nice enough, but the real highlight was the water - gloriously warm all day, and as clear as any I've ever seen.
Our time up at Nungwe also coincided with Rita's birthday, which brought with it another highlight. We'd found our way to a local establishment called the Highlands Bar where we'd found good food and cheap beer, not to mention a friendly manager who - once he had found out that the following night was Rita's big day - insisted that we come back for a birthday bash. And what a night it was ordered - he ordered in red snapper especially, which was sublime, organised a birthday cake for Rita and then, to top it all off, got the whole staff involved in a medley of seemingly every single known recorded variation of Happy Birthday which lasted about half an hour.
Sadly, that was also the last night that Rita, Andre and Krissie were to spend with us as they were rejoining the truck in Dar the next day while Jen and I, bewitched by the island's charm, decided to stay on. It was sad to say goodbye to them - particularly to Krissie, who had become our treasured companion and drinking partner. But she will be staying in South Africa for a time after her tour ends, and so I dearly hope our paths will cross again down there.
So Jen and I spent several more days doing just what we'd done for the previous several (hint: it involved drinking beer, among other things). Our beach side bar also provided a nice moment on one night when out of the blue, in the midst of a long run of reggae music, it played Radio Ga Ga.
I remember this well, as it's the only sodding Queen song I heard for a whole week on Zanzibar.
And that was that - in a perfect world we never would have left, but we have to move on from even the most beautiful places, and so after one more night in Stone Town (and two more Zanzibar pizzas), we boarded The World's Most Expensive Ferry back to Dar where we now sit in preparation for our jaunt into western Tanzania and toward Malawi.
Freddie's little island, however, will stay with us for a long time.
Things Jennie will remember:
1) Mr Happy at the night market who wasn't so happy on our second night there. I hope that you get to visit your son soon!
2) Discovering Passion Fruit Fanta.
3) Sunset whilst swimming in the crystal clear blue warm sea.
4) Loving my first snorkeling experience!
5) Our gifts at the spice farm and the coconut tree climbing man who would sing the song that haunts Zanzibar "Jambo, jambo bwana..." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRSCiIxZtEQ (hope this is a good clip!)
5) Celebrating Rita's birthday with the manager at Highlands Bar - he went to so much effort for her with fresh flowers on the table, a massive Happy Birthday medley mix, dancing and singing waitresses, cake and Masai bracelet gifts! What a guy!
6) The butchers in the Zanzibar market and them chopping up (sorry, hacking) bull heads:
7) Krissie - what a top bird! How sad to leave, but we hope to catch up in Cape Town. I have to find out if your fella's accent is really anything like your impressions of him!
Here are the photos:
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