Grateful, Thankful and Satisfied in Zanzibar

We spend the day relaxing, lazing around our room, reading and relish in the option of stretching out on the bed or sitting on the couch, so many soft surfaces to consider. Such a change from the last few weeks where a cozy spot was not possible as we moved from one place to another, comfort just beyond our reach.

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We pop open a can of Pringles,our staple in this continent and nibble on the salty snack. We wash it down with ginger beer, a tasty refreshment that has kept nausea at bay these last few weeks as we climbed Kilimanjaro and bounced around in Safari vehicles.
Options abound for dinner, there are restaurants and choice that surround and its difficult to choose. Our group plans to dine together and we set out in our clean clothes to peruse the many options available.
The night is dark and stars sprinkle above us, lighting our way as we walk sandals in hand in the cool sand. We find a lovely spot just a short distance from our resort. A table is set on the sandy beach. We sit and our chairs sink into the sand as we hunker down for the duration. Candles abound and the soft lighting is magical. Menus arrive, we are bombarded with choice, drinks, entrees. We decide after considering all our options and I close my eyes and take in the moment. I can hear the waves lap the beach, coupled with a lively band that strums out its chords.

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The food and drinks arrive and we eat and drink relishing each sip and bite. After days of stews, Milo and unbuttered bread, our taste buds explode. It occurs to me how much we take for granted in life and only when its taken away do we realize how fortunate we are. I make a mental note to always be thankful though know that in time the memory will fade.
Satiated, we begin the walk back to our beach bungalow. How lovely to know that there is a permanent structure waiting for us, complete with a comfortable bed and the ability to sleep for as long as we choose.

We bid good night to our friends, making loose plans to meet up tomorrow. Perhaps we will snorkel, kayak, or wander the beach, its difficult to decide at this moment of relaxation. I am not interested in further adventure at this moment, liking that time has stood still for a time.
In many ways this part of the trip is a typical beach vacation and we could be anywhere in the world in our safe, gated community. As I watch the sun set over the Indian Ocean, I am in this moment and content to have the next unfold without plan.

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Hakuna Matata

We arrive at the Langi Langi beach bungalows, a charming resort perched above the beautiful, blue Indian Ocean. We will spend our final few days of our African Odyssey relaxing. The day yawns in front of us, there is no agenda, no place to be, we can finally unpack as we will spend several days at the resort.   We happily unpack our belongings, stretch out on the bed and plan our next move. 

In this moment of relaxation, I realize I’ve left my purchased spices on the bus. Frantically, I bolt upright encircling John in my panic and we propel forward and bolt out the door, relaxation shattered in the moment. We spend several frenetic minutes searching for the bus,then learn it has left. We are informed that a bag of spices was removed from the bus by one of our group members. We are given a Guide and begin walking to the next resort.  The Guide is on Island time as he slowly walks. I’m pushing the pace without knowing the destination and clipping his heels to move quicker. He stops, scans my face and effectively reads the situation. “Madam, this is the Spice Island, we do not want your spices. Hakuna Matata,” he says. His words resonate, the absurdity of my panic crystal as I chuckle to myself. 

We are reuninted with our spices and retreat back to our abode where we resume relaxing.  We sip ginger beer, munch on Pringles and plan.  We know from our walkabout that we are in a gated community, separated from the African people. We are warned of the beach boys who wander the beaches selling their wares. I’m happy the beaches remain open to the people who call Zanzibar home.  Still, our resort is off limits and I imagine the uproar this would cause at home. It is unimaginable that a tourist would have more freedom in my country.

We set out to walk the beach. Soon we are approached by a Beach boy. He has many items to sell. We listen to his pitch and politely decline. We wait for the hard sell that never arrives. He shrugs his shoulders and states, “may-be tomorrow?”  We nod our agreement and continue down the beach. It’s refreshing to just walk the beach, enjoy the scenery and not feel guilty.  Perhaps we will buy tomorrow?  For today, we will enjoy this moment and the next. Hakuna Matata indeed!