Day 10 The South Beach

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Saturday 12th February

Even though it must have been a late night for Harriet and Jon-Erik, they were up bright and early - how do they do it? ‘Knock, knock’ came the wake-up call on our door and we had to leave those soft beds.
Today was Jon-Erik’s birthday, so we had a present prepared for him to open at the breakfast table. We all trouped downstairs and sang Happy Birthday for him, and luckily our teen-agers did not have to cringe with embarrassment as we were the only ones in the restaurant. He had quite a few presents and we gave him a pedometer to measure how far he walks and how many steps he takes.
After a shower we were ready for our beach day. I had always gone north of the Msasani Peninsula for the beach before; to Kunduchi or Bahari Beach, but now Harriet told us the so called South Beach was much better. I was happy to try anything new, as although it’s amusing to see your old haunts again, it’s the new ones which are more exciting!
We squeezed ourselves into the car again, this time it was all of us and really tight actually. It was also very hot, so in other words not too comfortable. The place we were heading for is called Kipepeo, which means butterfly in Swahili. Harriet said it is a paradise beach with brilliantly white sands and clear sea and when the tide is out you can walk far on the exposed sea floor.
We headed first south to the fish market, from where the ferry to Kigamboni would go. This was all new to me, and quite fascinating. I couldn’t believe how busy the market was, and as we arrived to stand in a queue to get on to the ferry the smell of fish was over powering. Our windows were open but as we were so crowded inside, it was stiflingly hot and the air became like a thick soup which made it difficult to even breathe. People were milling about, and the queue was so long we didn’t get on to the next ferry but had to wait yet again. The ticket seller was friendly and had a long chat with Jon-Erik. It makes all the difference when you can speak Swahili.
At last, when I truly felt like fainting, we got onto the ferry for the short journey across the channel. This ferry ride was really very similar to the one we used to take in Plymouth, England, when we used to visit my parents-in-law who lived close to there. Funny how some things don’t change wherever they are in the world! The Kigamboni ferry was perhaps just that much more chaotic and packed with people, but it worked on exactly the same principle; get as many across as fast as you can!
Once on the other side we had a 7 km drive to Kipepeo. It wasn’t far, but the road was appalling! We were out of the city though and driving through coastal areas, lots of palm trees and some wonderful looking houses. We passed a lot of newly built and half built hotels. The sea was to our left, and before we knew it we turned into Kipepeo.
This was a small hotel, with a beach bar and the typical thatched sun shelters which you find on almost all tropical beaches. We were all dying for a drink so we had a soda at the bar and then Jon-Erik and Harriet came with me to the entrance where there was a stand selling amongst other things kangas. A kanga is the rectangular cloth sold in two identical parts which many Tanzanian women wear on a daily basis. Harriet always wore one in the morning, and I have several at home, but none with me on our trip. I wanted one for Anja and one for me to wear on the beach, as it is impolite to go to the bar for example dressed only in your swim suit. The only trouble with new kangas is that they are very stiff and starchy before the first wash, but this beach shop had some which were already washed and this was perfect for us who wanted to wear them straight away. There was not a lot of choice, but we got a yellowy orange one which I thought was quite smart. Nowadays they have a text printed on them, which often is a pun on words. Sometimes these messages are used between lovers when they are given as presents! Sometimes they are just funny jokes and sometimes they have a serious message. Anja really liked her kanga and quickly got used to wearing it.
Although I frequently believe we are a very fortunate family, Lady Luck is not always on our side. Today happened to be the day after a strong incoming wind and the white beach was almost totally covered in sea weed blown up by the wind. The sea was also full of the stuff so it didn’t look as paradisal as it should. Harriet was really upset actually as this only happens a few times each year, and now it had happened just when she wanted to show as one of their favourite places. I truly didn’t mind, but I did feel for Harriet, as she was so disappointed. The seaweed didn’t stop us from going swimming though, nor from exploring the tide. We had to walk quite far out to get to the sea. Scott and Anja couldn’t believe how salty the Indian Ocean is, the saltiest they had experienced is the Mediterranean which is salty enough but not really in the same league. They were a little wary of all the seaweed in the water as one couldn’t see what hid in there, and I had foolishly told tales of sea urchins, sea stars, sea cucumbers, jelly fish and other creatures I had encountered in the past.
I loved being by the ocean again, the salty smell and the bright light and the vastness of it all. I had to keep in mind though that our skins were still winter fresh and I did not want us to get sun burned. This as we all know happens too quickly and easily. Long gone are the days when I would lie on the beach, covered in coconut oil, frying to a red lobster colour, to then suffer for a couple of days before turning the deep brown we all hankered after, ignoring the pink blotches from our peeling skin. Doesn’t sound very savoury, does it? My children really cannot understand it at all now, but that is how we were. Now we were smothered in sun cream and took shelter under the thatch and didn’t burn. Well, almost didn’t burn...Paul burned his legs. He insisted he was ok in the shade and didn’t need sun cream, but the rays are so strong they will get you wherever you are!
The day passed very pleasantly, drinking beer and soda, half asleep in the sand. At one point a herd of dromedaries came lumbering past by the water edge, urged on by a shepard. Some small boats with the classic triangular sail were fishing far out at sea. On the horizon a small island could be seen, this was the very one we had visited in the past and where we had swam amongst fish on the coral reefs. One thing I really enjoyed was not having to cope with vendors of any sort. There was no one trying to flog sea shells or other souvenirs on us, we were completely left in peace. Bliss!
We were expecting a colleague and friend of Jon-Erik’s to turn up in the afternoon, to say hello. Her name is Helen and she was getting married the following week-end very close by. She is a Swedish librarian who has moved to Tanzania and had now decided to tie the knot with her Tanzanian boyfriend. He had converted to Christianity from Islam and taken the name Hokan. Helen wanted to give Harriet and Jon-Erik instructions on the timetable and ceremonies for the wedding to which they were invited. She was expecting only a few to the church but hundreds to the ngoma they would have later in the evening. They have a house and a plot of land just behind Kipepeo and were busy getting everything ready. Helen did arrive after some delay, which the children used to explore the shore that the sea lapped by now with rather high waves as the tide had turned and had come in. They found a puffa fish, dead unfortunately, but still exciting. We had all perked up a bit now that the sun wasn’t quite so hot, and there was that lovely breeze. Helen turned out to be a sweet, eccentric person who seemed just right and happy with her choices. She was excited of course about the wedding, and a bit nervous too I think about all the arrangements. Her parents were coming to Tanzania especially for the wedding.
We had to go as it was becoming late and we didn’t want to drive too long in the dark. The journey back was easier as it wasn’t so hot, and we didn’t have to wait too long for the ferry either. As it was Jon-Erik’s birthday we had decided to go and eat at a good restaurant called the Mediteraneo, out by Mbesi beach. We all had to shower first though, and this is when disaster happened! Anja rushed into our room as she was longing to see her Chicky, a yellow toy chick, and her cloth again, the two are inseparable from her most times, but today she had left them on her bed for safety. Chicky was there, but ‘trasa’ (her cloth) was not! We looked everywhere and Anja was quite distraught, mostly I think because she wasn’t completely well from her virus. We walked downstairs to ask the receptionist if maybe the maid had mistaken the cloth for a ‘real’ cleaning cloth and taken it with her. The receptionist was very kind, and opened the cleaner’s room for us, but we couldn’t find ‘trasa’ anywhere. He said that our cleaner would be at work quite early in the morning and he would then ask if she could remember seeing it. So Anja had to wait until morning whether she liked it or not. She is very sentimental about this cloth, and it amazes me that she is quite proud of the fact she has one, although most children leave their security blanket when they get older, mostly for fear of being teased. She for some reason is never teased about it.
The food was superb at the Mediteraneo. We had a bottle of champagne to celebrate the birthday boy, and we were served by an entertaining waiter who took the opening of the bottle very seriously. I confess to smuggling out one of the linen napkins in my bag as a ‘trasa’ substitute for Anja. These napkins were so soft after many washes so I thought it might help her sleep, even without the characteristic ‘trasa’ smell.
I think Jon-Erik felt well celebrated when we eventually left the restaurant. Back at Q-bar there was even more going on tonight with a live band playing and this proved a huge temptation for Harriet and Jon-Erik who couldn’t resist the dancing. I must sound like the most boring person on earth, but I went to bed again, this time with a temperature - yes, it was my turn for the virus!
And thus ends day ten; hot both in temperature and burned legs, but sedated by champagne - what could be a better aspirin substitute?

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Photos

Dromedaries and seaweed
This was the first time I've seen dromedaries on the beach. I'm fairly certain there were none in the 1970s

Breakfast at Q-bar
Jon-Erik is about to open his presents

Chasing the waves
This is where they found the dead puffer fish

Champagne for Jon-Erik
The birthday boy is getting well celebrated