On Zanzibar, with the Zanzibarbarians!

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Note to readers: we have acquired speedy internet, but at this point we're less than a week away from being back in the states so you'll just have to wait! Also... Zanzibar and the humidity have slowed our metabolic rates to the point that all we can do is cocktail. So there!
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Day 20 continued:

Deaprt internet cafe. Dark out, and we are hungry. Next door, encounter same French people who were in taxi on way up. Dine with them. Dinner is delicious--- even cheesy niblets and crispy beef in milk. (AKA bread and shredded chedar with thousand island and jerky in white sauce). Ride motorcycles back to convent.

Day 21:

Breakfast. Jam on toast is delicious; fried eggs are not. Juice of the passion fuels our morning hike to Sakharani, where Benedictine monks make wine and Macadamia nuts. Both are delicious. Break into vineyard at urging of specious guide. Vineyard is lovely, and this time crime pays! ack to hotel for dinner alone in convent, accompanied by japanese soap opera on television: "Nani, you can't die! You're moving into a new house tomorrow! Youv'e been looking forward to it for years!" Sadly, Nani is dead.

Day 22:

Walk for 1 hour into town despite Mike's recollection that it takes 30 minutes. Miss meeting with guide Francis (much less specious) and encounter him as we walk into town. Travel to Irente Farm via a mountain and lots of chameleons. Riding chameleons is difficult, but rewarding. Lunch is delicious. Words cannot convey, so instead take some time to imagine:

































































Yes.... keep thinking.














































No, seriously, it was this good. Especially the plum jam and freshly churned butter. WE COULD HEAR THE COW THAT PRODUCED THE BUTTER. DO YOU REALIZE HOW DELICIOUS NOW?!?!?


















































































OK. Maybe you've imagined enough for now. Probably not though.

Afterwards, journey to Irente town and attempt to hand out toys to children. Some children are bullies. Attempt to give less to them. Fail.

Irente viewpoint phenomenal. Walk home great.

Arrive at convent. A gaggle of Germans has descended on hostel and occupies every table in restaurant. Tonight on TV: boxing. The Germans enjoy it. Erin sips her tea judgmentally.

Day 23:

Wake up at 7:00. Breakfast, then walk to road to catch bus.

7:45 -- Wait.... was that our bus?

8:00 -- Was it?

8:05 -- The bus was supposed to come at 8, right?

8:10 -- I mean, it couldn't have been that early, could it?

8:20 -- That was totally our bus. What the hell do we do now?

8:23 -- Well?

8:32 -- Damn it! What an overzealous bus driver! We're not the only ones he missed, I'll tell you that!

8:43 -- Bus arrives.

Upon arrival at Dar, contract taxi to take us to ferry terminal, with stop at ATM. Ferry leaves in 12 minutes. 13 minutes later, arrive at dock. Ferry is miraculously still there. Board boat, despite disbelief and amazement.

Check into hotel upon arrival. Seafood is delicious. Cocktails are delicious. Zanzibar itself.... also delicious.

That night:

Thousands of hungry mosquitos, bedbugs, or other insects feast on our succulent flesh.

Day 24:

Wake up with hundreds of red welts on arms, legs and face. What happen? Erin suspects sheets, so switch hotels to fancier place 20 feet away. Triple room cost, quadruple satisfaction -----> bargain!

First day of scuba-duba. Videos assume more than five instructional dives. We have one. Tomorrow. After the theory section is complete.

Lunch at Mercury's, named for Freddie, born on Zanzibar in the past sometime. Restaurant shares only name with singer, but food is rhapsodic nonetheless. Dinner at 236 Hurumzi--- land of Arabian Nights fantasy and about 530 (ie three) married couples on honeymoon. Dinner is good, sunset is better. Meet someone else crazy enough to document entire trip in audio.

Day 25:

Today. New hotel has delicious breakfast buffet. Standout: chocolate croissant, though cheese omelet is also fabulous. Walk approximately 50 feet north to rent SCUBA gear, then follow instructor 50 feet south to hotel pool for first and only instructional dive. We breathe underwater like the fishes.

Taxi to Mbweni ruins where they assume we're guests because we're white. Ruins good, coctails better. Taxi back requires excellent bargaining tactics including the walk-away. Achieve desired price outcome. Dinner tonight at family-run place with lots of nibbles, hopefully no niblets.

More scubaduba tomorrow. Also spice tour, sunset dhow cruise and dinner with swahili serenade?

Maybe we'll never leave...........