Pole Pole

From Nungwi we ventured along the east coast of Zanzibar from north to south. Our first stop was at a village known as Matemwe. The east side of Zanzibar has redeemed itself a bit to me and was a step up from a more populated west coast. There seemed to be minimal trash, the beaches were clean, the villages were peaceful, and most of all the everyday touts we've been escaping had all but vanished. We settled in at Keys Bungalows, ran by a quirky string of Rastafarians, of which the owner was also the owner of the motorcycle rental business we had used previously, and he agreed to a fair discount for return customers. We both felt truly relaxed on the beach at Matemwe, as the only noise around was the crashing of waves against the reef from afar and the wind blowing in a refreshing breeze through the open screens of our fort like upstairs bedroom of the bungalow. When you think of postcard beaches, this is it. The sand was as white and fine as flour, the beach stretched on for miles backed by palm trees, the water was an unreal shade of turquoise, dhows (medieval looking wooden watercrafts propelled by a sail and used by the fisherman) rested where the water meets the sand, little kids played, colorfully dressed women picked seaweed, and best of all there were almost no other people around. For a few short days at Matemwe we turned off our "traveling" mode and went into vacation mode, as funny and odd as that may sound to some. It was a good time to lie in the beachside hammocks and read or just contemplate life. Of course those that know me well know that I'm not really the sit around the beach for days on end kind of guy without some sort of activity to be entertained with, so Amanda and I booked a diving and snorkeling trip to the nearby private island of Mnemba, known for its stunning reef and array of sea life. It's also known for the private and only resort on the island that costs a mere 1500 dollars a night per person to stay. I didn't think we could negotiate them down to the 30 dollars a night we were paying at Matemwe, so we didn't bother setting foot on the island and just stuck to the playing in the waters offshore. I did two reef dives with a relatively strong current directing the direction of the dives. Amanda snorkeled in two different sites, and the animal lover she is was pretty excited about frolicking with her "underwater friends". She was a bit jealous though when I told her about the sea turtle that swam by us on our first dive. For those that know Amanda, you know how she likes her turtles. Next to our bungalow was a fish market that every afternoon came to life when the local fisherman brought in their "catch of the day". Locals gathered to make deals on the fresh catch and children assisted the fisherman by literally beating the shit out of the octopus they caught in the sand with a big stick to help tenderize it. The catch of the day was also served up every night at our bungalow. We rented a Vespa again while staying at Matemwe so we could get some supplies from a less remote village, and also travel the rest of the east coast down in order to scout out our next stop and reserve some accommodation. We took about four hours driving down the coast, stopping to check out new villages and beaches. We decided the town of Paje would be it. The ride home was two hours of straight driving, which combined is a long time to ride on most motorcycles, let alone riding double on a Vespa, but we had a good time! We stopped on the way home to catch a local football (soccer, but wouldn't dare call it that here) game. We both found it funny that out of a crowd of about 200 spectators, Amanda was the only woman there. After our ride, we speculated that it would cost us roughly 100 dollars total to take a taxi from the remote village we were staying to our new found home on the southern end of the island, or spend the better part of a day transferring from dalla dalla (local mini-bus type vehicle) to dalla dalla which would make for an exceptionally long journey. In the end an idea was born. The town that our motorcycle rental was from is Stonetown, and was located more than halfway to our destination of Paje, but on the other side of the island. Taxis however are plentiful there and it would be much cheaper to negotiate a deal from Stonetown to Paje, rather than from Matemwe to Paje. We had the option to either leave the Vespa at the bungalow in Matemwe or return it in Stonetown. Herein lies the idea and the problem at the same time. Could we manage to transport myself, Amanda, and all our luggage (two backpacks, a messenger bag, a smaller daypack, a gallon of water and a can of pringles) on a Vespa? Seemed like an option worth exploring. So, we managed to strap my pack on the very back fender, Amanda's pack on her back resting atop of my strapped pack, her messenger bag slung over the top of her pack, my backpack became a chestpack, and the rest of the goods we managed to stuff into the glove box. A site worth seeing as later pictures will reveal. After we got off the sand roads that stretched from our bungalow out to the main roads, things surprisingly went pretty smoothly and we were even making some good time. A few laughs from the locals never hurt my feelings. All was well and sunny for the first hour of our journey, until one of the biggest tropical rainstorms that I have ever witnessed took place within minutes. At first a little sprinkle, yeah I can deal with that, then a steady rain, okay I won't melt, then seriously, an all out torrential downpour from the gods and we were soon driving in a foot of chocolate milk looking water. Prior to this point, had we no where to be and no rental to return on time, pulling over and waiting out the storm for an hour or two may have been an option, but we were already soaked to the bone and uncomfortable so we figured we may as well just push on through. We cruised the chocolate river at a speed you could probably run faster than for a good half an hour until we finally made it into Stone town, hoping not to hit a sunken pothole and dodging the wakes of buses doing Mach 3 through the flooded streets with little regard for the poor, stupid tourists that decided to ride in this mess the whole way. In the end, well we made it without ruining any of our luggage, accessories, or ourselves, and surprisingly, while we were soaked thoroughly, most of the clothes and gear inside our packs actually stayed relatively dry! And..............the ride from Stone town to Page only cost us 25 dollars, worth every second of being drenched to a couple frugal backpackers! Page was a nice village with an even nicer beach with a good vibe. It seemed to be a mellow place and a hotspot for kite boarding. While not a kite boarder myself, I still found it plenty entertaining watching some very skilled riders catch 30 feet of air and novices crash hardily into the shallow waters. During our stay in Paje we caught a live band, mingled with the locals, and went for a few runs on the beach that stretched 3 towns long. Paje marked the beginning of the end of our African adventure. We now sit back in Stonetown waiting to catch a ferry in the morning to Dar es Salam. In Dar we will spend 2 nights before another long bus ride up to Moshi, where we will stay another 2 nights before flying home over a period of 2 pieced together days. Pole Pole are we on our way of course, as the Africans frequently say, which means slowly slowly.