To paraphrase (plagiarise actually) more or less every guide book on the place, the name Zanzibar evokes sensuous images of an exotic paradise- palm trees, white sandy beaches, emerald water and the lingering smells of strange perfumes and spices. That’s all well and good but lets be honest here- in common with most people, before coming to Tanzania, I knew more or less zip about the place. In terms of geography, I knew it was somewhere exotic and warm and near Africa; of its history I knew that Freddy Mercury was born there. I now know a little more so before dealing with the first Chubb (or Sandvid/ Mitra etc, etc) expedition to the island, it probably makes sense to impart a bit of this new knowledge.
Zanzibar is not actually an island; it is the name given to an archipelago situated close to the Tanzanian mainland. The largest island, Unguja, is about twenty minutes flying time north east of Dar es Salaam and is home to the majority of the population and to Zanzibar’s capital, Zanzibar City.
A typical Zanzibar beach scene
The archipelago has a varied history and, all around, you can see the influences of myriad cultures. Actually, one thing I’ve picked up from my travels is just how much the people bordering the Indian Ocean share a culture. This should not be a surprise given that the concepts of “Mediterranean culture”, “Mediterranean cuisine” and the suchlike are widely understood. Here, you have a language- Swahili- that is replete with Arabic and even Hindi words. Traditional food is based on fish, coconut, mango, papaya- just as we found in Goa. Whereas South India has the “dosa” a rice pancake, Tanzania has “ugali”- more or less the same thing.
If there is such a thing as Indian Ocean culture, then Zanzibar has always been right in the thick of it. The monsoon winds blowing regularly between Africa and Asia brought traders carrying wares in small dhows and large ships over from India and the Arabian Gulf, ready to do business in Africa. Situated so close to Africa, Zanzibar has always held an important position as a trading post. This was recognised by the Portuguese who, in 1505 (only six years after Vasco da Gama had first clapped eyes on the place), brought Zanzibar into their empire. Portuguese rule was supplanted by that of the Sultan of Oman in 1698. In 1861, Zanzibar and Oman split into two sultanates, heralding a short lived period of independence for Zanzibar. In 1890, this came to an end as Zanzibar became a formal British protectorate, a status it held until 1963, when independence was granted. However, blink and you missed that period of independence. Within a year, the Sultan was overthrown and Zanzibar merged with Tanganyika. TAN merged with ZAN and in 1964, the state of Tanzania was born.
A mere 44 years later, Zanzibar was graced with the arrival of four Chubbs. We stepped off a rather small and ageing plane, not particularly exhausted after a flight of 20 minutes. It really is amazing how much more I resent the long drawn out procedures at the airport when the time spent in the airport was five times that spent in the air!
We breezed through arrivals in Zanzibar and soon found ourselves at the Zanzibar Beach Resort. The hotel itself had some of the best facilities, the most beautiful backdrop and the most clueless staff I’ve ever encountered. I won’t go into depth about our experiences with staff there- it’s depressing and I’ll start to throw things. In any case, the hotel was beautiful and we settled down for an afternoon of swimming in an enormous pool, all excited by the trips we’d planned over the following two days.
Friday morning we were up and breakfasted nice and early. At 8.30, our guide arrived and we were off on our first trip- the almost obligatory spice tour. A short drive took us to a small spice farm on a hill just north of the capital. Although it didn’t look very impressive, that wasn’t the point- it sure smelled impressive! Wandering through their grounds, we built up a collection of pungent lemongrass, peppercorns, nutmeg, cinnamon, turmeric, cardamon and more or less any spice you’d care to mention. All were grown here although most were not native to the island- brought in over time from India, Arabia, Persia, Malaysia and even from the Americas. After a tour of the place, we sat down to eat some of their fruits and to drink locally made (and very spicy) tea.
Soma and the boys in search of spices- the boys need their curry after all!
After a short interlude watching one of the local guys climbing a palm tree (and Soma’s abject attempt to imitate- your Goan childhood was some time ago dear!, we climbed back into the tour bus and headed into the capital to catch a boat to Prison Island.
Prison Island is the rather ominous English name given to Changuu Island, a small island just a mile or two west of Unguja. To get there, we took a small dhow- a trip made significantly more perilous by the strong winds blowing at the time. For just over half an hour we were tossed around and soaked by waves until finally reaching the island.
The island gets its name from a prison built on it by the British in the 19th century. Although the prison was completed, it was never actually used. An outbreak of cholera across the Indian Ocean resulted in the island and the prison being used to house cholera patients instead. Thankfully the disease is no longer present. What is present however, is a sanctuary for a large collection of tortoises, brought over from the Seychelles in the late 19th century. Kieran was, as usual, frightened of the tortoises at first, but, once we convinced him that the slow lumber was their top speed, he relaxed noticeably. We must have seen over fifty of the creatures- ranging from small newborns to enormous adults- possibly old enough to have been among the original batch brought over from the Seychelles!
Soma and Rohan (hidden) petting a rather big turtle on Changuu Island
We had lunch in the prison grounds, petted a few more tortoises, then headed to the beach before climbing back in the boat for the journey home. Luckily for us, the wind had abated a little and we arrived back on Unguja slightly less wet and frightened than at the end of our first dhow ride!
Saturday morning and the Chubb family was again on the road bright and early. This time, we were heading south, to the bottom of the island to a place called Kizimkazi. Although a little worried at the prospect of a whole morning on the same style of dhow we’d endured the previous day, fears were allayed when we realised that the bay was very sheltered and calm. Decked out in our swimming gear, we headed briskly out to sea to go find some dolphins.
As with many instances on our travels, the plan didn’t quite come off. First of all, the brisk pace lasted all of five minutes until the motor gave out. For the rest of the morning we limped along as both dolphins and the myriad other boats zipped about. The second problem was that of the other boats. Okay, so Kizimkazi is known for its dolphins and we were not so naïve as to assume we’d be the only people out looking for them. However, we were one of maybe twenty boats all pursuing the dolphins- only our boat didn’t really work! In scenes reminiscent of Moby Dick, someone would spot the dolphins and the dubious little armada would head off to intercept them. Once close, the tourists would plunge into the sea to swim with them. Sadly the dolphins didn’t want to swim with us and sped off, leaving the rather inadequate humans floundering in their wake. We did see a lot of dolphins and to be honest, the sight of these boats in hot pursuit of and clearly outclassed by these beautiful animals was quite amusing but, as the novelty wore off, we headed to a coral reef for an hour or so of snorkelling. If the dolphins were impressive, the sheer colour and beauty of the coral reef was stunning. The water was clear as crystal and looking down into it was like swimming in a giant tropical aquarium. Apart from the coral, we saw rays, jellyfish and fish after colourful fish- I could have stayed there for hours!
A combination of torn swimming trunks, bored kids and a guide who needed us to make one final stop finally tore us away from the reef and we headed back to the beach and into the tourbus for the journey back north.
The journey held one last surprise for us. We knew that, as a bonus, the guide was going to take us through Jozani Forest and that we might see a monkey or two. Jozani forest is the main habitat for the Red Colobus monkey- a rare species found only on Zanzibar. I thought we might see some from the road. Imagine our surprise when we made a short tour into the forest and saw not just a couple but tens of these monkeys playing in the trees just yards from our noses. For an endangered species, these guys seemed very much at ease and were not especially bothered by our presence. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d be sure the monkeys were showing off!
A Red Colobus Monkey in Jozani Forest- in a tree above my head minding his own business
This diversion marked the last of our little visits on Zanzibar. The next day we were on a plane and back home in a flash. I’m sure this visit will not be our last one to either Unguja or its smaller neighbours. This island really did live up to its reputation. The scenery is beautiful; the flora is so vivid and colourful, sprouting off almost every spice imaginable; it is so full of wildlife we managed to see giant tortoises, dolphins and rare monkeys in less than a couple of days. This place is truly alive! After our weekend here only one question remained- what on earth possessed Freddy Mercury to leave there and go to south London?
Sunset- taken from the beach outside our hotel on Unguja
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