19/11/91

TUESDAY 19 NOVEMBER Linda went out to post the 24 letters we had written on Sunday. Then we took our packs and walked up to the Salamander Cafe, where we breakfasted on samosas, eggs and fruit juice, while we watched the people on the street going by.

Down at the pier, we joined the crowd of locals waiting for the arrival of the ferry. When it docked, and had disgorged its load of laden locals and pack-carrying Wazungu¹, the locals waiting to board began to push and shove their way down the gangplank and aboard the ship. The 10 or so of us Wazungu sat at the back of the boat, out on the deck where we had a good breeze to keep us cool. We sat with a couple of Kiwi girls called Angela and Debbie, in between watching music videos and ridiculous Kung Fu films on the TV screen inside.

Voyage took four hours, and when we docked at Zanzibar, we went through immigration and the usual crowd of touts, offering hotels and taxis. As we walked out of the wharf gates, the air was heavy with the pungent smell of cloves mixed, with the scent of other spices, and the dusty and damp smell of the streets.

Repairing fishing nets, Zanzibar.

We walked up to Flamingos Guest House, which had been recommended to us, checked in, and got washed up. At about 7 PM, Linda. Debbie, Angie and I walked into the maze of dark, narrow streets to Dolphins Restaurant, for a delicious meal of fresh fish and chips.

¹WAZUNGU, remember, is the Swahili word for “white person.” It is used all over Africa.

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