The day was pretty mundane. We got a car and a driver from my friend – he’s such a sweetheart – and went on a tour of the Slave Market and House of Wonders. The Slave tour was haunting. It’s a post on it’s own, but I have to say that western civilization is totally overated. **shudder**

At the museum we saw a replica of an Arab dhow, and I have to say, a million blue diamonds would not make me board one of those things and sail across continents. Those sailors must have been high on cheap seawed. That, or they had a death wish. Or perhaps even back then, the Pemban girls they were sailing to were super gifted. Coz yenyewe, those boats, ai !!

We spent like four hours at the market shopping. Interesting. And we ate at Passing show, a nice bustling joint with some heavenly pilau and extremely untanzanian waiters. Those guys make Kenyans look slow. They move like the wind, are fast, efficient, never drop food…and are all so cute! But they’re too busy bustling to hit on anyone, so no numbers to get. *Pout.* No, I did not want a number from a Zanzibari waiter. Chances are I’d get offended if they aksed. I’m just saying that’s how busy they were. And how cute.

By mid afternoon my guests were tired, so we ended the tour. **Pout** So much more to see! Oh well, next time. We headed back to the hotel where I retired to the chair and KTN. Odd that watching NTV makes me homesick, but KTN does nothing for me. At least I finally saw the KTN robot. Hehehe. Was hoping for a glimpse of Lulu or Janet or one of the other heartthrobs driving Kenyan men mad and Kenyan women to FB groups. But alas, the newshost was male. *pout*

Later on, our guide took us to Forodhani B. It’s an open air food market with all sorts of local cuisine. Funnest part of the trip. Everything from seafood mshikaki to squid-cubes and obambula-looking dried octopus. Eeeeew. I refuse to eat anything that looks like it could eat me. Sometimes they cut off the…er…legs and splay them on a plate, Big red coily things with suction pumps. Ergh!

There was something icky called Urojo which is a broth made from mashed potatoes, coconut, lemon and ukwaju, and served with mihogo crisps and some manadazi-looking things called Zanzibar mix. Yekh…I mean yum! It’s a Pemba trademark. One more reason to be Pemban. NOT!! I had sugarcane juice and Zanzibar pizza. Pure bliss. Sigh. I could live on that beach forever just for that pizza and juice. And no mosquitoes either!

Next day we were on a plane back to Dar. Kinda cool, the teeny ones with propellers. We flew over the ocean and I could sea underwater islands and strings in the sea, it was beautiful. 20 minutes passed way too fast.

Conclusion: tropical islands aren’t what I expected, but I’d sure like to try snorkelling and scuba. And to drive the full three-hour length of the place. It’s really pretty and green, no dust, and all local women in head gear. That was weird. But the people are nice and you don’t get the ‘Mkenya wewe’ treatment. And there’s KTN. And sugarcane juice. Everyone looks so homely and content, but I could never live on an island.

I always say that my dream home would be on a deserted island with pinacolada and an endless bookstore that takes coconuts for money. But after visiting one, I’m glad I wasn’t born there. I’d always look at the water and want to know what’s ‘out there’. I feel glad and blessed that I do know.

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