Goodbye Dar; Hello Zanzibar. 12.30.2018

Morning in Dar; Evening in Zanzibar

First, apologies for not crediting my knowledge of mancala yesterday – It was Roberta Green who taught me when she was about 5 or 6 years old (She’s now about to graduate from college); maybe we’ll pick it up again some time!

Last night we decided to find an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. The best one is Addis in Dar, which was recommended by everyone we met en route; alas it is closed for the entire week. So we did some research (thank goodness for computers and Internet, where every little hole in the wall place seems to be listed). We found Rohobot; mentioned it to the concierge who said he had never been and he was very reluctant to recommend it. (possibly a good sign?) Anyway, hopped in a taxi who didn’t know it either and seemed not to know the route. But, trusty GPS!! We guided him. It was only a 10-minute drive on a major road, until the end. So after the main road, he needed to make a U-Turn, which we had trouble communicating, and it turns out that they don’t make U-turns the way we do – need to make a full turn and then go about a half-block, and then turn again. All good. Within about a minute we had to make a left turn onto a dirt road totally full of deep potholes, mud, and rocks. But he persevered and also told us that some new housing (for rich people) is being built along this road. Finally we arrived at Rohobot – a totally sweet little house (had to walk a bit down an alley to get there), converted into a restaurant; very friendly staff; light injera. We opted for four veggies and doro wat; decided to avoid our much loved kitfo because Mike’s stomach was a little queasy (he’s fine now – maybe the Ethiopian food was a cure!

Taxied back and packed – very complicated as we are only taking one bag on the boat to Zanzibar and leaving everything else here at Serena to pick up when we return.

This morning we headed to the dreaded chaos of boarding the boat to Zanzibar (a two-hour trip). We already had our tickets. There are three classes on the boat (although the sheet you get to decide what kind of a ticket to purchase shows five different levels). The hotel suggested we do First Class (They said there was actually just Economy, First Class, and Royal First Class.) We went with their recommendation; good call. We took a taxi from the hotel to the ferry terminal (about 6 minutes from the hotel) and as soon as we got there the real fun began.

We were surrounded by dozens of guys wearing different kinds of vests and name tags – all purporting to be “official” porters who would take the bags through to the boat. Given that we could really manage our bags ourselves, we tried to decline but it was next to impossible. It was also really difficult to navigate the process of getting from the taxi to the boarding area and we figured there was probably security to tackle and some way to check the baggage. The taxi driver realized what was going on so he got out of the car to help us and looked at some of the name badges and pointed to one guy and told us to go with him. There was a lot of hubbub and then some of the guys disappeared. We tried to stay very close to the one who was supposedly the taxi driver’s choice. He wove through the crowds with skill that must come from both years of practice and a hunger to get paid for the job and move onto the next sucker (sorry, the next “client”). The bags went through some kind of rickety security machine, as did we, and we kept as close to the guy as we could. We said we wanted to keep the bags on the boat with us (especially sensing the chaos that would ensue at the other end). But our guy said that all roller bags needed to be put into these “cages” and that we could not carry anything but my purse or a backpack onto the boat. So we said goodbye to the roller bag and computer roller bag as they were piled into “cage #4”… The guy wrote a crude number 4 on our boarding pass and then “Beg 2” meaning two bags, we think. No tags, no identifying numbers to locate the bags. But so be it. He then pointed us in the direction of a little room off the fray of the masses of humanity who we figured were the economy passengers. The room was air conditioned and had WiFi so we were happy campers. But as we sat in this VIP “lounge,” we kept seeing passenger after passenger enter with roller bags far larger than our own. So we realized we probably could have had our stuff with us. We then took bets on the likelihood of finding “cage #4” at the other end of the journey.

The trip was fine, fairly smooth, and first class seats were comfortable. The passengers were predominantly Muslim, I’d guess about 90% African, and a small percentage European or North American. There was some kind of movie playing starring Emma Thompson and Rowan Atkinson (“Johnny English Strikes Again” I think), but our headphones were in the bags that got “checked.”

When we arrived in Zanzibar it was even more chaotic than when we departed. We had to find cage #4… which took a while as they first deboard first class and then economy (total mess) and then the “cages”… which I assume are in a locked area because the individual cages are really just open carts piled high with bags, in no particular order. We waited and naturally cage 4 was the last to come off the boat. Our bags were there.. and then the fun began.. Mobs of people merging to go through “security” and also “immigration” (even though Zanzibar is part of Tanzania; but there are lasting tensions between the mainland and the archipelago).  So,l we had to have our passports reviewed and stamped and of course our bags had to be inspected again. They also ask for proof of malaria vaccination – odd, since in order to get the visa to Tanzania you need to show proof of malaria vaccination; had to dig mine out of my roller bag).

Our hotel (Emerson Spice) had offered to pick us up at the ferry; we generally hate arriving and seeing a sign with our name, but after seeing the chaos at the dock in Dar, we responded affirmatively and they said there would be a bonafide taxi waiting for us after we leave the gated area. We headed out to yet more chaos with people getting off two boats and people trying to board our boat which was headed back to Dar… lots of pushing and shoving, and it felt like it was about 120 degrees and very humid (actually just 85 and humid!). We were surrounded by supposed taxi drivers and we did see some signs with names on them, but none with our name. We waited about 20 minutes and then decided to take a “taxi”.. and off we went to the hotel. We traversed dozens of narrow pathways not really big enough for the taxi into the thick of the old center of Stonestown (just a few minutes from the ferry) and we were here; the taxi could not go all the way so he walked us into the warren of streets to find the 19^th century building.. which is fairly non-descript on the outside and unbelievable on the inside.

There are three adjoining World Heritage site buildings in the Kasbah. Two parts face a square at the end of Tharia Street, a walking street; the third façade looks toward the Cathedral and the slave market. There is also a private courtyard that they call the secret garden. The main building, where we are is the restored Merchant’s House. From our room we can hear the call to prayer from the many mosques that are around us. The room is great and so photogenic that I can sit here and take photos all day..  Actually, it’s sort of like being in the middle of a water color.. the light, the colors, the washed walls… But we do want to see the town.

It’s still pretty hot, but we’ve got a great bottle of chilled South African white wine that they brought as a welcome (and apology for the taxi mess up); we have fruits in the room, including a giant papaya.. so we’re good until dinner.

We opted to have dinner at the rooftop Tea House Restaurant above Emerson Spice Hotel. We were hot, tired, and hungry. All research said it was the best restaurant in Zanzibar and it has great views. No building is tall, so the rooftop of our four-story hotel (with high-ceilinged rooms) located in the center of the oldest section of Zanzibar provides good views from about 280 degrees. The research proved accurate. Dinner was great.. slow paced.. with excellent service. It’s a fixed five-course menu that changes every night.

I started with my now favorite drink – the Dawa – Need to learn how to make it: vodka, honey, ginger, lime, and a little club soda – I think. Will experiment when I return. Mike stuck with Gin and Tonic. Then the food feast began.. I think we had:

• Fish pate, coconut relish, and a little fish cake
• A tuna timbale, pineapple chutney, African okra
• Lemongrass calamari, pumpkin with spices, salad
• Kingfish with a baobob sauce, rice with turmeric, and some kind of pickle (but I think it was a pickled vegetable)
• For dessert we had cardamom mango, a peanut something, and some kind of pudding

Each dish was plated beautifully.

We added a nice South African red wine from the Stellenbosch region… Couldn’t ask for a more peaceful way to end a very hectic day.

The rooftop views are great as we could see to the sea, and also view the city from above to sense both the order and the chaos of the plan of the old city. The sunset was a firey-red, and the call to prayers from the many mosques was a reminder of the deep-seeded Muslim routes of the area. But we knew that the peacefulness of the rooftop belies the realities of the streets below. Still it was great to have such a moment of relaxation (and great food). Our table was tucked into a corner of the rooftop so we couldn’t see or hear much of the other guests. All appeared to be tourists, nearly all we guessed from European countries and possibly Australia.

Interestingly, while Tanzania as a country is predominantly Christian, Zanzibar is predominantly Muslim. We’re also learning more about the rift between the mainland of Tanzania and the archipelago of Zanzibar. More on that later.

As we finished dinner we tried to plan our “activities” for the following day – the last of 2018.

All the best… as we approach 2019.

Fern