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Published: August 6th 2006
Well, this is it. The end is nigh. No more wanderings. In fact, the end has come and gone as I’m now back in good Ol’ Blighty, a hefty £5200 lighter (and that’s not including pre-trip and flight costs), where the only noticeable difference is the badgers that visit our garden have had a baby, and our bathroom is now painted white. Joy. Tony Blair is still in power, Mum is still watching Emmerdale five nights a week, and ‘going for a curry’ and wearing a hoodie is still all the rage amongst the teenage population. Indeed, sitting at the same computer that I wrote my first blog on, it sometimes feels like I haven’t actually gone anywhere, as, like Will predicted, it’s gone by shockingly quickly. But then I turn round and see all the postcards I’ve sent to my folks, messily arrange like a rugby scrum on the mantelpiece - at least one for each of the 16 countries - and it all comes flooding back.
The mind boggles. It’s been an epic trip. An incredible trip. A harrowing and educational trip. At times a stressful and others a tiring trip, but always varied, intense and magical. So
many religions and cultures. So many strange types of food and white-knuckle-ride modes of transport, and so so many types of landscapes that even one with the faintest inkling of an interest in physical geography (come on, you can admit it…), would get down on their knees in thanks at our beautiful world - deserts, rainforests, mountains and snow, savannas, volcanoes, tropical islands and rivers, and of course the bustling, manic cities of Manila, Auckland, Bangkok, Delhi, Kathmandu, New York, Nairobi, Phnom Penh etc.
Travelling solo, there’s been some lonely moments (cue very small violin), but it’s allowed me to learn a lot about myself and the world, more so, you could say, that at University, and it’s given me the opportunity to meet so many wonderful, kind and downright crazy people! It’s going to take a while to sink in and digest all these cheesy sentences, but in the meantime, besides non-stop listening to music (all who know me, will understand my struggles since my mp3 player broke - oh how I’ve missed my music), I’m enjoying and appreciating luxuries I never thought I’d miss (at least for the first month anyway, before they become the norm once
more): cheese, flat roads, restaurants and bars where the CDs don’t skip, drinking water from a tap, carpets, cocopops and Apple tango, sofas and feather pillows, a daily routine, knowing where my next bed will be, having more than five tops to choose from, a DVD, the BBC, AC/DC, as well as not having to feel guilty anymore about wanting to relax, when, being so lucky to be in these places, I should be out exploring.
Now I have the fantastic task of paying it all back, and beginning work, on my birthday of all days. At least Waitrose will hopefully be giving me some dosh. And living with Caroline in a lovely part of London known as Twickenham I’m looking forward to the future! Weee…
I’ve also gained some random new skills - none of this fancy language business, or learning how to survive in a jungle, but developing a sixth sense of knowing when someone from behind is approaching you with a sales pitch, and an ability to cross a busy road by the simple Matrix-like manoeuvre of extending my outstretched arm and hand at the passing cars, as if to say “nope, it’s my turn
matey!” - especially useful in Saigon. I’ll never complain about the British weather, or Glastonbury toilets again. I’ll stop sulking about public transport (besides our trains, naturally), and be grateful for healthy tap water, and I’ll start donating to the Cambodian landmine refugees fund. This trip has really opened my eyes. Anyways, enough of this dull reflective banter - let’s talk about the wonder that was Zanzibar!
It was an awesome final week and much of this awesomeness comes from the fact that I hardly did anything worth writing about, unless you want to hear about the books I was reading - the ultimate winding down after 40 weeks. I split my time evenly between Stone Town and the beach, starting with three days in the former. I loved Stone Town, nearly as much as Lamu, despite all the tourists with their expensive cameras, wearing bright-coloured I-don’t-give-a-toss shorts in the narrow Muslim streets. I spent hours doing nothing but wind my way through the intricate and intimate streets, tossing a coin over whether to take the stony left path or stony right path, and stumbling upon little schools, or a group of rough-legged kids having endless fun being chased
Glorious glorious fresh seafood
Pick, BBQd, eat. (Forodhani Gardens)by a fat turkey, or ten scrawny cats scavenging some orange peels, or three old men playing boa on a step. It was a world unto itself and together with Stone Town’s coast and glorious fiery sunset each night, was a nice place to slowly wind down and take a deep breath from the stress of African travel.
It would also be a crime not to praise the food. Mostly, it was lots of men with their big BBQs, but actually really good food for a change. One night I treated myself to a tasty BBQ buffet at the Old Fort, accompanied by some live music and dancing - though the dancing wasn’t the best, and a little unnerving when two of the dancers ground their hips round my table while I was eating and everyone else watching. For my other two nights however, I ate at the open food stalls in Forodhani Gardens, a place impossible to miss and you would be an idiot if you did (..or a vegetarian). From a distance you see a dozen stalls along the coast, with smoke wafting through the air lit up by bright table lights, and up close, tables filled
with skewers of fresh fish: tuna, red snapper, barracuda, white shark and lots of unappetizing, but tasty, octopus tentacles, squid and lobster. Your eyes take in the feast, you choose what you want, wait for it to be BBQd, then your mouth takes in the feast. Mmmm
Besides the fishy stuff, Zanzibar is also famous for its spices, and lots of them. Cloves, vanilla, lemon grass, turmeric, nutmeg, pepper, cinnamon, cardamom, all the spices we find neatly packed on shopping shelves, except in Zanzibar, where I got to see them all growing in their natural state on a fascinating little spice tour. I even found a natural form of red lipstick, perfect for those fancy dress nights! Historically, the trading in spices and especially cloves has only blossomed in the past century, after the eventual collapse of Zanzibar’s other important trade, slaves. Starting as early as the 9th Century, Zanzibar became one of the last open slave markets in the world, only becoming illegal thanks to Dr Livingstone (of the ‘I presume’ fame) in the 1870s, and then continuing into the 20th Century illegally, hidden in caves and underground chambers like the one in the photo. Even today, arguably
Slave holding cell...
...surviving from the grim days the poor conditions continue with the low wage rates many Zanzibaris receive at the Spice Farms.
Nevertheless, Zanzibar is still much better off than its rival mainland of Tanzania. The average life expectancy on the island is 7 years more than its neighbour, while its literacy rate is about 10% higher at 80%, and those infected with HIV/AIDS is around 2%, as opposed to 8% on the Tanzanian continent, despite Zanzibar having a population composed of over 95% Muslim. It’s clear in many ways that Zanzibar is doing well for itself, and sitting on the beach at a Stone Town hotel, sipping my expensive coke (well, Western price) from a wine glass, it’s easy to forget I’m even in Africa.
This feeling continues as I head 30km to the opposite side of the island, to a ghost village called Pajé and a perfect hotel right on the beach. No culture here, or local food, or even many locals at all actually, but this does not in the slightest trouble my plan to spend three days lying on the beach with book in hand watching the tide go in and out, and do, well, nothing really. It was great!
Though one night I did stay outside to watch some sea creatures going about their business, blinding them with my torch, and was lucky to spot a bright shooting star appear like a close dying blue firework in the sky.
Then, with just a couple of days left, time slipping away, I got the night ferry back to Dar Es Salaam, in snobby class I might add, to be confronted by mundane streets with a few vegetable stalls and people selling nuts. Although it is not actually the capital (that claim goes to an insignificant town in the south called Dodoma), Dar Es Salaam is by far the biggest and most modern city in Tanzania, and wields a lot of power. Much calmer and safer than Nairobi, it’s actually ok to walk outside at night for a change!
So, after travelling for ten months, it was only fitting that I finish with a couple of markets and a museum. The latter included the Laetoli footprints and was therefore quite interesting for people that take an interest in dead stuff, while the former was a mixture of the touristy and the fishy. Mwenge market is famous for producing some
Wood carvers at Mwenge Market, Dar Es Salaam
look at the intricacy of these 'family trees'... of the best wooden Makonde sculptures in all of East Africa, and you even get to watch the men at their intricate or knife-sharpening work. In fact, all the men seemed to be doing something other than carving; sharpening knives, smoothening wood, polishing, but at some point they actually manage to spend weeks carving some of the most intricate and largest pieces of woodwork I’ve ever seen. I left with a bongo.
By contrast, the other market was a bustling fish auction, where women who didn’t seem to mind wearing their brightest clothing huddle around metal tables trying to bargain with the fishermen over his latest catch. I managed to find a great viewpoint and spent a good half hour just watching the mayhem, which included the cutting open of a shark and a fish pop out of its stomach! And yes, they went on to sell the fish too!
My last night ‘on the road’ was actually pretty jolly too, as I had befriended a couple of American girls Liz and Lynsey, two of their African friends including a poor guy called Elvis who signs his emails with ‘The King’, as well as Melodie and Anna getting
in touch to tell me they were back in town also. So my last meal and drinks was had in the company of six friends, wishing me well and setting me off on my final two plane trips back to Heathrow. Much better than eating alone like a man with an odour-problem in the corner of a restaurant. Then, not twelve hours later, I was greeted by an amusing sign with my name on it held by JP, and Caroline grinning from ear to ear.
London! I was home! And an unexpected flood of joy went through me as I flew over London and landed on British soil. Four days later, I have already been thrust right into British culture all over a again - I’m back in the pubs, have visited Shepherd’s Bush Empire to see a fun Aussie band, gone to the cinema and even been to a Championship League football match complete with expensive bottles of pop and fat, heckling Brits. Well, it doesn’t help that we were the only people in the Argyle stand supporting Wolves, the opposition…It’s all been quite overwhelming actually, especially as Caroline and I have signed for our new house, I’ve
visited my future workplace, and have been busy every day. So it hasn’t yet sunk in that I’m home and the ‘away-sickness’ I’m feeling, if there is such a thing, is quite strong. No more travelling. Capput. Zilch. Is that really the end?
But travelling is not just about A and B, but the journey between the two. And it’s not about seeing everything, but returning home with a greater understanding. I’d thus like to think I’ve grown a little wiser, and I dare say, my calf muscles a little larger. Thank you so much for reading, leaving comments, and generally following what I’ve been doing this past year. I’m shocked at how popular this has become, and appreciate all of you. It’s partly this blog and your comments that reminds me how lucky I have been, and has thus kept me sane. Thanks! I’ll leave you with one final personal motto:
If things work out, great. If not, you have a story to tell!
Byebye x
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Caroline M
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Thanks for keeping me entertained for the past six months. Although you have made me think what working is all for.... the next set of travels!! Good luck with your new job, and welcome to the world of corporate life!! xx