TORTOISE & SPICE - ZANZIBAR

10th -12th Nov 2020

Giant tortoises on 'Prison Island'.

Zanzibar is not perfect in many respects (what country is?). It appears to suffer from irregular power cuts...sometimes lasting for as long as half a day which has played havoc with my daily lunchtime ice-cream, courtesy of a charming Italian lady who runs an ice-cream parlour in the town centre. The electricity supply comes from mainland Tanzania and, either through malice or incompetence, frequently fails.

I met up, by chance, with a couple of Brits on a morning tour to Changuu Island, about 4 miles off-shore north-west of Stone Town. It is otherwise known as 'Prison Island'. 

Left: The long jetty at 'Prison Island'. Long jetties are needed because of the tides.

It was originally made into a prison for recalcitrant slaves by Sultan Sayeed in the 1860s, but was bought by the British First Minister of Zanzibar, Lloyd Mathews, in 1893 and became a quarantine centre (not a prison) for immigrants to protect against the spread of Yellow Fever and probabaly Cholera (prevalent in East Africa). Good idea. If people are so worried about Covid-19 (a pathetic disease in comparison) perhaps we should use the Isles of Wight, or Man, as similar!

Right: Our transport, 'The Gladiator'. The tide was in so we beached at the island. 

There are lots of these little outboard-motor powered boats to ferry people all over the place. All had awnings with names. Some quite amusing........

,,,,,Such as this one (left). 

....which changed its name a bit when the awning was pulled back.

The island was only used for quarantine during half the year, as most incoming traffic relied on trade winds which blew tthe boats in during that period. During the other half it was a holiday island and a lodge was built, now called Mathews Restaurant (left), which is closed.

The main attraction on the island are the Aldabra giant tortoises. Four of these were sent as a gift by the British governor of the Seychelles in 1919. They multiplied exceedingly. There are now around 180 of the critters plus lots of baby ones. They have numbers and dates of birth painted on their shells. The oldest one, I was told, is 160 years old.

Our guide tried to be very helpful but sadly his English was all but indecipherable, so we probably missed a lot of detail.

We were encouraged to feed the beasts with greenery. They have a voracious appetite and jaws like car crushers. You feel they could take your fingers off  if you are not careful. Fortunately they can't run too quickly. Riding on the tortoises is prohibited (as if I wanted to!). The only tortoises I have ridden, in races, were 'equine' ones.

Right: There is a pen housing lots of baby ones, I think called 'hatchlings', or maybe 'fingerlings'. I'm not sure (expert advice from my 'adviser' will be forthcoming). They obviously look after them well; they are a tourist money-spinner after all.

Left: The original gates to the quarantine centre; the grey ones.

Right: The inside courtyard with cells/rooms surrounding it. I think it has been smartened up a bit since its original use.

Left: There is even a fully stocked bar with a portrait of Sultan Sayeed Said on the wall by the drinks. Our guide was keen to have his photo taken against this. Were Sultans enthusiastic tipplers?

We sailed back via a coral reef where the lady in our little group, an enthusiastic diver, donned flippers and snorkel and went for a look-see down under (the sea!). She seemed to enjoy it. I am not particularly keen on submerging myself unnecessarily.

Right: The 'Travellers' Café' on the beachfront of Stone Town. It is a popular haunt for European tourists and ex-pats and is in fact a very pleasant bar/restaurant with charming staff and good WiFi. They have a decent (especially seafood) menu and a large glass of very palatable red wine costs about £1.80p. It has become my regular watering hole.

Left: The sunset view from the bar. The net is lowered when people play football on the beach, which they often do. Nothing worse than a football landing in your soup.

As well as football and swimming, lots of exercise is done on this little beach, especially, as I gathered, by the local police force. Right: This is a group of them pounding around a temporary running track.

I failed to get a video of an impressive dance group practicing their 'routines' with lots of gymnastics.

Left: A passing dhow. The colour of the sea around here always amazes me.

The next trip was to a Spice Farm, of which there are many, about 15km north-west near the town of Bububu. Zanzibar is historically renowned for spices, especially cloves and vanilla. It was indeed known as Spice Island during the 19th century. The notorious Tippu Tip (see previous blog) had a handle on the trade in this, as well as his ivory, and everything else.

I was travelling alone and was met by a guide and his young 'assistant' guide, neither of whose names I remember but, of course, they were very knowledgeable and charming. These spice farms operate as a local cooperative and cover, collectively, a large area.

I took several photos of the fruit trees and spice bushes I was shown, but pics of these are rather boring so I will just list an impressive selection of the things they were growing: Nutmeg, Cloves, Cinammon, Vanilla, Black pepper, Ginger, Tumeric, Curry leaves, Bread fruit, Jack fruit, Star fruit, Lychees, Cardamon (black, white and green), Cocoa, Coffee, Pepper, Limes, Avocado, Lemons, Pineapples, Lemon grass, Lipstick (Annatto), Quinine, Aloe Vera, Durian, Melons (various), Banana, Papaya and, of course, Coconuts. I might have missed a few. Some of these, I forget which, are used in the manufacture of perfumes. Not Durian, I hasten to add. There is a local dangerously (illegal) potent drink, Gongo, made from distilled papaya, much on the lines of the Irish Poteen and causes a few fatal hangovers. Similar to a cocktail I am familiar with, the 'Spiney Norman', but that is another story.

Right: The assistant guide displaying stars stuck on his face from cutting the tops off star fruit.

During the course of our walk he had been weaving, rather skilfully, a tie made out of palm leaf strips (or were they banana leaves) and a hat, plus flowers for my tie and  buttonhole. I was encouraged to wear them so, in danger of embarrassing myself, here is a photo.

Right: I was treated to another fine display of palm tree climbing. A cloth strap tied between his ankles to grip the trunk and up he went like a scalded cat. Unlike a fat idle cat called Gordon of which I know which wouldn't try even with a shermooley stuck up its arse.

Left: I was persuaded to drink all of the coconut milk from one and then all the flesh. Not bad, and very healthy, but more than I would have normally wanted. Burp!

I'm really not sure that the hat suits me, but he (the guide) was quite fond of mine.

After this I was given lunch from a barbeque. Meat with spicey rice. Haven't a clue what it was. It tasted OK but plentiful, too plentiful. 

There were stalls selling various spices and little bottles of perfume made from some of them. I bought one of them and will present it to an unsuspecting victim on my return. Probably Durian.

More to come from this place. I am beginning to find my way around and have much appreciated the genuinely welcoming nature of the locals and their fascinating diversity of cultures. Hope that doesn't sound too 'woke'.

I will leave you guessing!

 

BACK TO STONE TOWN - ZANZIBAR

 7th - 9th Nov 2020

The ex-Sultans' Palace. Now museum.

Back to Stone Town and Bottoms Up hotel. At least I know where I am when I get there. As mentioned previously it is a surprisingly decent place with a very helpful owner (Dr, recently qualified, Dishan) and his able assistant (Ali) and a parrot called Kasuku which makes loud whistling noises.

Right: Breakfast on the roof of Bottoms Up. A decent view. The bird sitting on the railing is an Indian crow. These are unwelcome pests in the country. They make a foul noise, have vicious beaks, eat other birds' eggs and, when tables are vacated, swoop in to scavenge left-over food. I am tempted to leave a nasty surprise for them.

Right: The rather 'mature' lady serving the breakfast has to climb up 5 flights of steep wooden stairs to deliver it. She has a great sense of humour and very cheerful.  She deserves a medal, or at least a tip!

The ex-Palace museum was now open for visitors. Left: The Grand, rather threadbare, Staircase. It was built in the mid-19th century by Sultan Said, or Sayeed (arab spellings variable in English). Complicated arrangements between Germany and Britain left the island as a British protectorate with the Sultans notionally in charge. The Palace was destroyed by a British bombardment in the Anglo-Zanzibar war in 1896 because the 'wrong' Sultan (Ali) acceded (shortest war in history at between 38-45 mins). Then rebuilt and  inhabited by other Sultans until, following independence from Britain, the 'Zanzibar Revolution' of 1964. This horrific African rebellion ended the Sultans' reign and the final Sultan, Jamshid bin Abdullah, did a swift runner on his 'Royal Yacht'. Many Arabs were brutally murdered.

Right: The Sultan's audience chamber. Much of this museum was in a rather moth-eaten and dusty state. However, they have done their best.

As you can imagine there were lots of 'guides' desperately persistent to offer their services but I managed to avoid them.

Left: Princess Salme's bedroom. An interesting lady. Died in 1924. She married a German. Good story if you can be bothered.

Right : A typical Sultan. Seyidd Said (I think) 1790-1856. The first Sultan in Zanzibar.

Left: The Sultan's bedroom. There are lots more dusty rooms I took photos of, but the above should give you the gist.

Right: The original portable wash-stand, water tank on top, was wheeled into the bedrooms of Sultan & Co if they were too lazy, or incapacitated, to get up.

Left: Nearly finally, you may be relieved to hear, the Sultan's Panasonic TV outside in a passageway. Or, more likely, that of the present day security guard.

Right: One of the last Sultan's cars. Forgot to note what make it is but I'm sure some eager researcher will tell me. I think it is British. (Ford Zephyr, I have been advised).

Left: The car used by the last British Resident (Commissioner) before the Revolution in 1964. Austin Princess?

Now for some real 'culture': The Freddie Mercury Museum on Kenyatta Road (The  Oxford Street of Stone Town). The legendary 'chanteur' Freddie Mercury, aka Farrokh Bulsara, is the second most famous Zanzibarian. The most famous being the fabulously wealthy 19th century ivory trader, Tippu Tip (I'm presently reading a book about him by some British Academic. It is fabulously complicated and almost unreadable). Actually this book does give an insight into the lives and the most extraordinary exploits of African explorers and entrepreneurs of the 19th century (Livingstone, Stanley and many others), but I digress.........

The museum entry cost $10 (reduced to $8); vastly expensive by Zanzibar standards. It consists of one largish room around the walls of which are numerous photos of, and letters written by, F. Mercury. 

I was the only visitor at the time.

In the centre is an internal room containing a silent video of 'Queen' (his band) playing at Wembley stadium, a large photo and a grand piano with a sparkly yellow leather jacket on top (presumably one of his stage outfits). 'Queen' music was playing in the background.

Freddie (Farrokh) was born in Zanzibar to Persian parents in 1946. They emigrated to India where he was educated and returned to Zanzibar after schooling. The family fled to England in 1964 because of the revolution. 

Left: Young Freddie (in India) was a keen sportsman.

He became the flamboyant lead singer of the rock band 'Queen', was a notorious shirt-lifter and died of AIDS in 1991.

To be honest, the museum was no great shakes. I was somewhat disappointed. Not a patch on the ABBA museum in Stockholm (see previous Sweeden blog).

Left: A colourfully dressed lady in Stone Town. Many of the women wearing Muslim outfits made the point of having colourful ones...other than the few wearing those black bin-liner/letter-box outfits.

Right: A typical Muslim mans's outfit. They too often had colourful hats and dish-dashes.

Left: The Post Office on Kenyatta Road. An efficient establishment with helpful staff. I posted some cards which took a week to arrive in UK. Good going, especially compared to some I posted in Colombia  a year or two ago which took 6 months to arrive.

Right: Opposite the Post Office is the (relatively) rather upmarket shop 'Memories'. As well as souvenirs it sells clothes, books and other stuff. It is also well air-conditioned which adds to its attraction.

Left:..........and a rather less upmarket establishment around the corner. I dread to think what they had been selling....

Right: The bandstand and café on Forodhani Gardens, on the sea-front opposite the fort. A pier juts out into the sea and there is a ceremonial arch at the water's edge; built to welcome Princess Margaret on a state visit in 1956.

Left: A gaily decorated street in the town. They must be celebrating something. I think it might be the Indian Diwali knees-up. A hotel I visited was preparing for a major do in this respect.

Right: The Laughing Policeman. Sgt Elias of the Zanzibar Police. He was often to be seen in the town centre, very smart and always smiling. He usually carried a 'swagger stick' under his left arm...replaced here by a radio. A delightful character.

More to follow from the Stone Town area.

BWEJUU - ZANZIBAR

3rd - 6th Nov 2020

Zanzibar Red Colobus monkey

On arrival at the African Paradise hotel at Bwejuu I was greeted warmly by the owners, Pia and Hashim. They are Turkish and the hotel was recommended by their fellow Turk, Ahmed, in Nungwi. It was a great recommendation. They are a charming couple and nothing was too much trouble, and at a very reasonable price.

I had been having trouble with my computer, often due to Government restrictions on all matters Google, which had been most irritating. By good fortune Hashim is a computer whizz and sorted me out on a VPN network which got round the problem. 

I showed a photo of this marvellous little beachside hotel on the previous blog. This (left) is a view from the outside dining area towards the sea at, just about, high tide. As mentioned previously it retreats about a mile when out. You can paddle out a long way in up to only 3 or 4 feet of water.

On day one I took a walk south down the beach, about 2 miles, to the small town of Paje and back. It was a lovely walk on the pristine white sand. Paje does not have a lot to offer other than beach hotels (rather lacking in guests at the moment) and this (right) rather pleasant roof-top bar (not many places sell alcohol here but this one does, plus a good 'spag bol') but there is an ATM cash machine at the local petrol station. These are not so common and cash is needed in most places. It (the ATM) is one of those which sucks your card in. I always have a fear of these because it may not reappear. I had a problem with one in Stone Town which did spit my card out, eventually, after lots of rumbling noises, but no cash! My card was charged, but then, fortunately, reimbursed. There are approx 3000 Tanzanian Shillings (TZS) to the £. On this occasion I had no problem, except all the machines charge you TZS17,500 (£6) for each transaction regardless of the amount you withdraw. Rip-off. There was a young chap, French as it transpired, who was sitting rather disconsolately on a window ledge outside the ATM. I said 'hello'. He said 'allo'. Apparently his card had been sucked in and not spat out. He had been waiting for 2 hours for someone, supposedly, to come along and retrieve it. Quel domage et catastrophe! He is probably still there. You can see why I worry.

Right: A local in traditional Muslim garb. This town, Paje, seems particularly Muslim oriented. As maybe mentioned, in most parts of the island there is a general population mix of Arab, African and Indian (and tourist). Read the complicated history.

Have I mentioned the Zanzibar Revolution of 1964? Quite horrific. You can read about it on Wikipedia. It was a significant, and gruesome, changing point in Zanzibar's recent past.

Left: A Massai I met on the way and we had a chat. The Massai (that I have met) are incredibly polite, often speak good English and, unlike some locals who can be a persistant pain in the arse trying to sell you something, are undemanding and interesting company. They are proud of their history and traditions.

Right: 'The Garage, Lodge and Bar' on the edge of town. I'm not sure what its customer base is but I doubt it will be receiving too many Michelin stars in the near future. 

The hotel offered the free use of bicyles and canoes. I chose a bike and rode it down to Paje a couple of times on the hard white sand nearer the sea and it was quite easy going. There are locals on bicycles and scooters going up and down the beach.

Left: Parked for a breather under an impressively horizontal palm tree.

I returned on the main road which was easier going, but one had to be wary of some erratic traffic, especially with my  erratic bike riding.

Right: This couple, Thomas (Swiss) and Rita (Rwandan), amusing fellow guests and also ex-Babalao, Nungwi, residents, chose a canoe. It was interesting to note that Rita was about to do the paddling. A fit couple!

Left: A poor pic of a young lad (white shorts, blue shirt) shinning up one of the palm trees by the hotel. (I discovered, belatedly, that camera lenses steam up quickly coming from hot to cool, or is it vice versa). He shot up there like a rat up a drainpipe and then released several large coconuts. The tree is owned by a local villager and the land by the hotel, so they share the coconuts. Interestingly the 'climber's' technique here is to loop a rope around the tree with his hands, feet free, and use that to shuffle up. Another method involves a cloth tied between the ankles to grip the trunk and hands free. I'm sure some smartarse expert will let me know which is correct.

Right: Same lad in the fronds of another, more vertical, tree You can just make out his legs. They must have harvested about 20 coconuts. Very dangerous to stand too close. Those nuts come down with a skull-shattering thump!

I spent half a day on a visit to the Jozani-Chwaka National Park, about 10 miles west of Paje. It is a carefully controlled area with its own 'eco-system' and not entirely in keeping with the intersts of the local farmers. However, proceeds from visitors are distributed amongst them and they are therefore happy to help preserve it. More tourists are always needed.

It is a forested area and subject to saltwater flooding which has resulted in extensive mangrove swamps. Amongst much diverse flora and fauna it is home to the unique Zanzibar Red Colobus monkey (right). These devour tree leaves and shoots and therefore not popular with local farmers, but due to financial incentive they are now allowed to live in peace.

I joined a couple of Brits and we were led around a maze of jungle pathways by a very knowledgeable (and excellent English speaking) guide. He has been 'guiding'  here for 25 years.

We were told not to get too close to the monkeys, but the monkeys, many of them, had other ideas. They were jumping all over and around us. Lively little bleeders. There were also many Sykes monkeys, bush-babies and other furry creatures. 

Left: This one reminds me of someone.

Our guide had an encyclopedic knowledge of the flora and fauna and identified all the multitude of different trees and plants (lots of mahogany) with both local and Latin names, most of which (or the leaves thereof) have effective medical properties. Between them, they could cure everything from infertility, through asthma to diarrhea. You name it, he had a tree that could cure it. He didn't mention a Covid-19 cure, but I'm sure he could if pressed! This bug is hardly a topic of conversation here anyway.

Left: Our excellent guide (and I've sadly forgotten his name) with my two London based companions.

Right: There is a well constructed and extensive platform walkway throught the mangrove swamp. Millenia ago this island was under the sea and much of the ground rock is coral. We were given lots of detail about mangrove swamps and their eco-system, including the prolific burrowing crabs. Enough of the nature lesson, and I've forgotten most of it!

Left: A view along the beach ouside the hotel. Impressive. It puts many Western beaches to shame, and so free of pollution.

And people! 

Right: The hotel night-watchman. Another good-humoured Massai called Emo.

Left: One of the hotel table mats. Quite original, I thought, and very useful if you wanted to go tracking wildlife..assuming they left their footprints of course. 

This was a very relaxed and pleasant stay at the African Paradise hotel. Right: Our genial and efficient hosts, Hashim and Pia. Many thanks to them.

Now back to Stone Town. There are many other places to visit there as so many were closed when I first arrived. The Freddie Mercury museum springs to mind! In any event it is a nice place to be.