Caroline and I caught the share bus to Nungwe, on the far north of the island. It took us two hours to get to the Jambo Brothers Backpackers. Booked in and backpacks safe, we hit the beach.
Zanzibar has idyllic beaches. Brilliant white washed sand squeaks underfoot as the clear warm turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean lap up to your ankles. Coconut and pine trees sway gently, while fishing dhows effortlessly catch the cool soft trade winds out to the fishing grounds.
We walked round Nungwe Point past the old lighthouse, solidly built surviving hundreds of storms and guiding thousands of mariners to the safety of port. After rounding the point, coral outcrops jut out of the soft white sands forming a labyrinth of little caves and tunnels, giving shelter to any beachcomber from the tropical African sun. That is without a doubt why Zanzibar is considered to be the top destination for honeymooners the world over. The serenity and splendour of the island is so overwhelming that it would be a sin to not share it with someone special.
Dining out with a lady can be very funny if not embarrassing at times. Everywhere you go the staff automatically assume you are newly weds. Being light-hearted we joked about it and making fun at the fact that maybe we could get a discount if we played the part. Unfortunately that card has been played many a time in Zanzibar and you would probably get charged more than if you were single.
Tammy, Marc’s good friend from work in the UK, had organised us accommodation at the Blue Bay Hotel, where she works. As it was low season we were spoilt again to extravagance at a beggar’s budget. We were shuttled from Nungwe to the hotel where Marc met us with some amazing news.
Marc and I were going to go and discover scuba diving. Marc’s cousin Cathy had organised that we get to dive Zanzibar. One afternoon in a pool training then out to the big blue the next day for two dives off Zanzibar’s infamous Mnemba Atoll. Caroline has her open water certificate so she was over the moon. While Marc and I were getting our scuba lungs and splattering ourselves in the pool, she enjoyed the comfort of the Blue Bay Hotel while anxiously waiting for the dive the following day.
We were all up early, buzzing with excitement. Before we knew it we were on the rubber duck screaming out to Mnemba Island. Our dive instructor Jesse gave us a quick briefing and overview of the safety procedures we had learnt it the pool, while Caroline and her dive buddy/guide descended into the depths. Marc and I were only allowed to descend to 12 metres on our first dive, but Jesse felt confident of our progress and took us to 18 metres.
Descending feels strange on your first dive. You have a sensory meltdown at first. Your hearing is retarded, so your eyes start working overtime, picking up every movement in the deep blue world around you. You have to keep your instincts at bay. Your mind is fighting with your instinct of holding your breath under water while all you repeating to yourself is the words of your dive instructor: “Keep blowing bubbles!”
After the first five minutes underwater you pull yourself together and marvel at the world man is not designed to see.
No wonder divers are different to the rest of society. The freedom underneath the rolling ocean swell surpasses anything on land. You are weightless in a multicoloured world, discovering so many new things. We spotted such a wide variety of sea life, from lion fish, stonefish, rays, pipe fish, moray eels and game fish such as kingfish and tuna. The colours of the coral range from deep blues and purples to striking reds and yellows. We were lucky to have a lunch time highlight of a school of dolphins. We were in and playing with the inquisitive and intelligent mammals of the deep. An experience never to be forgotten.
Always wear protection!
That evening we had a braai with Cathy and her angel-faced daughter, Zoe. We couldn’t thank Cathy enough. It had been a life experience in Zanzibar and possibly opened doors to a new passion. It is now a must to get our open water certificates.
Saying goodbyes to new friends was difficult as usual, but on the ferry ride home we reflected on the mark Zanzibar had branded into our lives. The scented beauty of the Spice Islands will draw us back one day.
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