Zanzibar Part - 2

Our first three days in Zanzibar were peaceful overall, and I was enjoying the late mornings and lazy days. The fourth day, we moved to Stone Town which was the port city we had arrived in by boat from Dar. After a two hour bumpy ride in a not so comfortable bus, we arrived in a rather unsavory alley. I had no desire to spend any more time there than necessary and we loaded up our bags onto our backs and followed our guide who had appeared out of thin air. Twisting through the dreary, damp, crumbly alley made my stomach tie into a knot. I was hoping that we would not be staying in such an uncomfortable area. Unfortunately, within a few minutes, we turned and entered our hotel which was right in the middle of they alleyways. At least it was only one night, I thought to myself.

That first day I had signed up for a tour of Prison Island, which is home to many large tortoises. We took a rattly, rocky boat from a beach nearby to the small island 20 minutes away. From a distance, the sand was so white it glowed in the sun. The water was two-toned with deep blues and bright aqua shifting and shimmering around us. Once we had sloshed from the boat through the warm water and onto the sand, we were able to feed the tortoises! I had two branches in my hand, one was mine and one was Paul's. I held his branch so he could take a picture of me, but as I knelt down to feed one tortoise, another one snuck up behind me and started eating the other branch! I might have yelled a little out of surprise, as the tortoises are quite persistent when they sense food. Then a whole swarm of tortoises started slowly marching towards me, but I had run out of food! After detangling myself from the middle and dropping what was left of the branches, I apologized to Paul for losing his branch. Luckily, he didn't mind too much. We toured the rest of their rather large complex, and saw the other smaller types of tortoises (I got to hold one!) and the babies, which were kept in a tight knit cage to keep them from being eaten by predators.

The name Prison Island is a bit misleading. Although a prison was, in fact, built on the island it was never used as a prison. Instead, it was needed as a quarantine station between incoming ships and Zanzibar. At the time, there was a huge outbreak of Black Death, and the Sultans on Zanzibar were terrified that it might arrive on the island and wipe out everyone.

After our little visit to the old, reconstructed prison building and a quick lunch, we trundled back across the stunning water and into Stone Town. My first, negative impression of the city had not been far off. I have travelled to many places around the world, but I have rarely felt uncomfortable or unsafe. This, however, was how I felt in Zanzibar. A Muslim island, you are first glared at because you are clearly not Muslim, no matter how conservatively you dress. Even with a long skirt and long sleeved shirt, my short blond hair (instead of a scarf) is a dead giveaway. It also seems that they despise tourists coming in, despite the fact that they rely on them for a large part of their industry. The winding maze of streets never seem to go where you want to go are surrounded by dark, dilapidated buildings which look like they might crumble at any moment (and some of them already have). The locals are unfriendly, or if they are friendly just want your money. We got a bit lost and had a wander through the streets looking for dinner. Although we were a big group, we found another set of tourists who had a map and a better sense of direction to lead us through the ever darkening streets towards a supposedly better lit and more frequented area. Finally, we did get there safely and ran into another set of our group for dinner. We knew our way home after dinner, but the claustrophobic labyrinth made everyone on edge and we were glad to reach the safety of our hotel.

I was all too happy to leave the next day, after a bit of shopping, a quick tour of the Palace Museum and an even quicker lunch. The jarring boat ride back to mainland Tanzania helped me lose my quickly eaten lunch, and then we were back in Dar. I breathed a sigh of relief, and decided that was the last time I would visit Zanzibar.