The train ride to Dar es Salaam was better than expected.
After reading multiple accounts of the nightmarish journey on dusty, old trains without water, a dining car, or even fans, I lucked out. TAZARA had debuted some refurbished wagons a few months before my arrival, thanks to China Aid, so I got to ride in relative comfort.
A lift into town from a fellow passenger was a great bonus. Off I went into the biggest city in Tanzania.
My plans to cross the country on another train, en route to Uganda, were thwarted when I found out the biweekly service was sold out for a few months. This was the first time I’d encountered such an issue, as I’d booked almost every other train I’d been on the day I traveled. Given that I’d now have a few more days to kill, I debated the best route to take: buses north, through Nairobi and Kampala or a plane to Entebbe.
After determining that 3 days on buses was not worth the savings, I also had to another choice to make. With Zanzibar a 90-minute ferry away, I had to consider going to the famed island, despite not being a “beach person.” Hey, after living on a lake, I’m a fresh water guy through and through.
It wasn’t a short or easy internal debate, but I was so close I knew I’d regret not checking it out, despite the tourist prices. Meeting Jason and Andrew, two Canucks on a similar, RTW journey (check ’em out: Shots Around The World), helped solidify my decision. We had a good time in Dar and they were headed to the island, too, so, why not?
We arrived in Stone Town and, after shaking off a tout that just wouldn’t leave us alone, had a much-needed lunch and hit the road to Paje, on the southeastern part of Zanzibar. Budget travelers that we are, we skipped the taxis and endured a pair of matatus to get there, the first of which was a pain in the ass because of the hefty Muzungu tax the driver wanted to impose on us…and our bags. But that wasn’t our first rodeo and we argued our way into a much better rate than initially quoted.
It certainly wouldn’t be the last time we’d deal with people trying to take advantage of us in Zanzibar.
We eventually made it to Mustapha’s, a nice, albeit pricey (especially as it wasn’t on the beach), backpacker joint in Paje that was quite subdued since it was low season. But my stay would only last one night.
The next morning, as we walked along the beach until we reached the less seaweedy parts, we also happened upon where the action was in Paje. A cluster of hotels, bungalows, and hostels. And the girls from Emirates, who turned out to be cool as hell and a damn good time.
Unfortunately, Jason and Andrew couldn’t get out of Mustaha’s without losing their money, but I joined Ana, Anita, Maria, and Sara at the Ufukwe Bungalows later that day. It was a great little place at 15 USD a night for a private bungalow (in Zanzibar!)…until the water stopped working for 36 hours and Poseidon, the bipolar owner, started being inappropriate with the girls and made it known I was persona nongrata. But I digress.
Since there are no ATMs in Paje and all of us needed cash, we hopped in a shared taxi back to Stone Town. Poseidon in tow, he took us to a little local’s place where had a couple beers before enjoying sunset.
We all spent the next day on a Safari Blue adventure, hopping between a few tiny islands, snorkeling (a little short of expectations), and feasting on fish, lobster, and rice. Totally worth it and recommended if you’re ever in Zanzibar.
A massively rainy day followed. It provided an opportunity for all of us (plus a few passerby who we invited to join us) to get cozy with Konyagi, the local gin-like liquor, and bond over a solid game of Kings. Very solid.
The next days on Zanzibar included more beach time, more drinks, more begging for Poseidon to turn on the wifi and figure out the water issues, and learning a local version of Hakuna Matata that is hard to get out of your head. Oh, and a helluva find at the exchange library at the hotel next door. Getting Girl on the Train for A Red Badge of Courage was a good win.
Eventually, the Canuckistani boys left for Dar, where they’d catch a train to Lusaka, Ana went back to Dubai, and I extended my stay, since I was having such a good time. So much for not being a beach guy! Though, truth be told, it was the people more than the place that kept me there. A reasonable 50 USD fee to postpone my flight a few days didn’t hurt either. Wish it worked like that at home!
The last day in Zanzibar was packed with good times. Lounging poolside with the girls at a resort we weren’t staying, but were drinking, at was followed memorable birthday lunch for Sara at The Rock. Then a bonfire and a looong night out that started with Poseidon and pool at a local’s joint, where the guy in a captain’s hat high off his mind dancing in a trance made me laugh.
It was hard to say goodbye and eat alone in Dar Es Salaam after a ruckus time with great people in Zanzibar, but so it goes on a solo trip. I’ve been lucky to meet some fantastic people along the way on A Great Journey, and this Canadian-Jamaican-Korean-Norwegian-Spanish-Venezuelan crew was no exception.
I left Zanzibar with some great memories, an improved tan, and a smile, glad that I decided to give the island a chance.
As luck would have it, the Jason and Andrew’s train got cancelled, we all ended up at the Safari Inn once again, and shared an Uber to the train station/airport.
Checking in for my flight on Rwanda Air proved to be a nightmare after they couldn’t find my reservation, but eventually, 25 minutes before takeoff, they got me checked in. Total cluster.
A little hidden-city ticketing magic got me to Kigali, where I’d spend a few days pleasantly surprised by the clean, civil city and truly shocked by the vivid legacy of the 1994 genocide.