Friday 3rd

It is good to have a lie in. We have been meeting at 5 am every weekday morning to pray together, which is wonderful, but gruelling. While we both woke up automatically at five, we laid in bed dozing until eight. Hotel Tembo serves a mean breakfast. Fresh fruits, crepes with real nutella, pastries, breads, yoghurt, omelettes, fried potatoes, even pizza. What more could you ask for? We sat by the beach and feasted in the sunshine. For the next hour or so we sat on sun loungers reading our books, taking gentle strolls along the beach and talking to the locals. We decided to hire a boat for the rest of the day to take up to a small islet for just $20 a piece, which I thought was very reasonable. It was a traditional Zanzibar sailing dhow, albeit with an engine, just in case the winds weren't favourable. We spent a while drifting across the Indian Ocean with the sail up when the captain asked us if, for the sake of arriving that same day, we wouldn't rather use the engine. We took his advice and forty minutes later we pulled up on shore.





Changuu Island, or Prison Island as it is affectionately known, is home not only to an old prison and cholera quarantine facility but also a colony of giant tortoises. We arrived at feeding time. I like to think that one day Aubrey will get this big.




In this photo I’m standing where the old prison toilets were. Talk about poo with a view!





Then down to the beach. When we first arrived, there were a few bazungu there, but within half an hour they had left, so we had the beach to ourselves. Unless you have been somewhere like this, you cannot understand just how stunning it is. The sand is as white and soft as flour, and the ocean is the clearest blue you've ever seen.




It was really hot, and I burnt through multiple layers of factor 50 plus sun cream. It might as well have been milk. It was Dora's first time in the ocean, and she couldn't believe how salty it was. But it wasn't as bad as all that.

On the way home we stopped the boat and went snorkelling at a local reef. It was my first time and I found it rather distressing. I’m not a great fan of the water due to a very rational fear of giant squid that stems back to an ill-advised childhood visit to a fake submarine wreck that included someone being dragged off and eaten by a very large, purple squid with beady yellow eyes. To try make things better, we wedged my glasses into the goggles so I would at least be able to see what was swimming beneath me. Anyway, my first snorkel experience ended within a few minutes with a massive swell going over my head and filling up my air tube. At the same time my googles came loose and also filled with water. But I couldn't take them off for fear of losing yet another pair of glasses to the ocean. Blinded by salt and half drowned, with my massive flippers impeding my escape, I didn't know if I was swimming up or down. Eventually I came to the surface, handed over my snorkel gear and swam around for a bit, head defiantly above the surface. On the way home I said to Dora, “I'll never do that again”, comforted by the sight of dry land.

That evening we went out with Job to a local food market for dinner. The fishermen bring their catch everyday, barbecue it up and sell it at high prices to tourists.

Everyone was drinking fresh sugar cane juice, which was very yummy in small quantities. They put they sugar cane through an old fashioned mangle, and mix it with ice and lemon juice. I guess it's a bit like lemonade, except with the lemon to sugar ration in reverse.




When we got back to the hotel, I sat by the beach again to read my book, and enjoyed a scoop of hazelnut ice cream. Another day over.