scooting round Stonetown

The past three days have been a blur - literally. I've had so much sand and grit in my eyes from zooming around Zanzibar on the back of a scooter that most of the time I haven't been able to see a thing. The first two days I really enjoyed it, but today, 1/2 way into the journey to Nungwi beach at the very tip of Zanzibar, I felt so sore I would have gladly given up the convenience of scooting for the "comfort" of a dalla-dalla. On the way back, I would gladly have paid big bucks for the dalla-dalla comfort, only the fear of offending my host that kept me glued to my rock-hard seat (for those of you that think I'm exaggerating - I have bruises!).

Despite my discomfort, Zanzibar really is paradise. I thought all beaches were pretty much the same, but today I was astonished. The sand was white, the water warm and turquoise, and the waves broke so gently next to the shore it was impossible not to dive in. I've never understood why people are so obsessed with going to the beach, but after Nungwi, I get it. I toured a spice farm early in the day, afterwards we 'sampled' some of the most heavenly fruits I've ever eaten. Starfruit, mangoes, tangerines and many more which I don't remember the names of, but after all the rice and beans I've eaten over the weeks, it seemed a world apart.

I keep seeing signs for WHO, ActionAid, Save the Children, et al's Zanzibar office and thinking what a blessed existence the staff must have to get posted here. It's hard to remember with the seeming abundance that poverty is much more rife than you'd at first believe. One rather sordid measure of this is the plentiful sight of middle aged muzungos cavorting with teenage prostitutes in just about any bar you go to in town.