Thursday 2nd

I had beans on toast for breakfast. Well, beans on sweaty bread. But it was amazing. You just can't beat beans on toast. We waited for our driver for a good hour in reception after we had checked out. The traffic in Dar is awful. You can sit in traffic for hours only moving a few metres. In many ways Dar is just like London, but more about that later. When he arrived, we went to the bank so Dora could get money out. She has been so busy these past few days with exams and audits, so it was hard for her to get ready in time. Next to us in the queue was a Masai Mara warrior, as you do.

Then it was straight to the port to buy our tickets for the boat to Zanzibar. We had just missed one, so we now had a two hour wait for the next boat. Dora and I left our luggage at the ticket office and went off to find some lunch. We had been advised by our driver not to eat meat, so I ordered chicken. I was impressed by the Tanzanian chickens; they are much more meaty than the ones in Rwanda. I don't order chicken in Rwanda any more because you just end up with a plate of bones.

The boat was late of course. We waited at the port for an hour, with several hundred other passengers. I felt like Michael Palin, an intrepid explorer in the heart of Africa, rediscovering forgotton places. I was the only muzungu in a throng of veil clad women, their babies strapped to their backs, suitcases on their heads and chickens in their hands. As a white woman with blonde hair and what felt in that situation to be a lot of exposed skin, I drew an uncomfortable amount of attention. People made no effort to hide their stares, or stop their children from pointing for that matter. There was no queuing system or respect for people's personal space. The sun scorched us from above. Eventually I had had enough and needed out. I pushed my way out of the crowd and sat on some steps a few meters away. Dora came to join me.

Eventually the gates were opened and the throng pushed its way forward. Somehow we had to get back into the crowd to get onto the boat, so, like everyone else, we pushed and shoved our way to the front, until fifteen minutes later we were on the boat with out suitcases. “I never want to do that again”, I told Dora, who nodded in agreement. The porter showed us into the air-conditioned first class cabin with big plushy seats, but we wanted to sit outside to get the full boat experience. There were at least three times as many passengers as there were seats, so I sat on the floor, which I later discovered was soaking wet. A guy called Job sat down next to Dora and we got chatting to him. He seemed really nice and offered to show us round the island. At this stage we had no plans, we didn't even have a hotel booked, so we took him up on his offer. I was a little reticent, I have to admit, but it turned out really well. He helped us carry our suitcases, got us a cheap cab and found us a great hotel. It was a really old building in the centre of town, with the added advantage of being right on the beach. Stone Town, the 'capital' of Zanzibar, is a tiny coastal port, so you can be in the town and on the beach at the same time, which is great. It was already quite late so we bode Job farewell and settled in at the hotel. The building was magnificent. It was finished with original furniture and fittings, so it was like stepping into the past. Our beds were a meter off the ground and really wobbly. As I lay there I tried to imagine what it would have been like for my fore bearers, those adventurous men and women who left everything they knew to conquer new lands. I honestly don't know how they coped without air-conditioning.

That evening I went and sat on the beach with my book, The Zanzibar Chest, half a bar of very melted Dairy Milk and a torch. It was perfection. Then Dora and I decided to explore the town a bit. We found a great dress shop with the beautifullest dresses you've ever seen. I bought a green and brown dress and a spectacular hat which only a British tourist could wear. Check it out! After shopping we went out for dinner. We shared a margarita pizza; I think the best I’ve ever had. Living in Africa has really made me appreciate things more.