Stonetown, sun and sweat

So, here I am, sat on the open top terrace, it's 9.30 at night, and only now have I stopped perspiring! Welcome to Zanzibar, the island of spice, sun and buckets of sweat. Zanzibar is a complete contrast to Rwanda, gone are the lush rolling hills, the meandering clay paths, here are the tightly woven allies of stone town. Narrow tributaries of lanes that coil into one another like one big labyrinth. The architecture is amazing, stone town is a hotch potch of ex- colonial and Arab palaces, all crumbling facades and rusty verandas. The tall buildings tower over the winding streets just like in Verona or Venice, leaning in on the day trippers. On our first few days on this tropical island we've lost our selves in the mazes of allies, visited the horrific slave market (no longer in use, I hasten to add!) and haggled our way through the cloth and food market. Fearlessly (or naively, as you may put it) we took a daladala out of town in search of some cooling ocean spray. What is a daladala? A strange hybrid between an open sided mini bus and an extended rickshaw, driven by a man on a mission and conducted by a man sat on the roof!!! So, we've done as the locals travelling on the delightful daladala, we've cast off (most of our) clothes and dived in to the tropical turquoise waters of this enchanting island. We've also been on the most vomit infusing, stomach churning boat ride of all time to Chumba island, the consequences of which could put Alton towers out of business. But perhaps the effect of that adventure is just a little too graphic for a family friendly blog... We are off to stone town's lively esplanade now, about to barter for our tea amongst the throngs of locals spilling onto the sidewalk in a jumble of prawns, pancakes and obscure looking pizzas. Tomorrow we leave the sights and smells of stone town and head to the soothing waters of the west coast, where we will spend more nights on our African adventure.