Zanzibar, Chapter three
Prison Island and an ephemeral beach.
After breakfast I wandered to the docks to see if I could find someone to take me to Prison Island. Once a prison, the island had since been converted to a tortoise sanctuary. You could swim off of the island, and I thought I’d make a day of it.
I negotiated a decent fare and soon I was off, cruising the clear blue waters en route to the island.
On the island, I paid my fare and walked through the sanctuary. The tortoises were huge and everywhere. Not only were they in their designated areas, but they also wandered freely on the pathways. We were given lettuce with which to feed them, and tourists lured them towards them to take photos.
After touring the island I went back to the beach where we had alighted. A number of other boats were beached there and it didn't feel like the most relaxing place to swim. Looking out at the horizon I saw another spit of land and asked the captain how much it would be to go there. He quoted a price, I quoted another, and we soon settled somewhere in the middle. I got back in the boat and we were off.
As we approached, the island disappeared, reappearing as we got closer. It was barely an island, more a spit of land that revealed itself at low tide.
The island was easily traversed. It was occupied by people far better prepared than I, who had booked trips that included canopies and a seafood lunch. I salivated as I passed the hibachis set up on the beach, admiring the lobsters in their shells.
I had brought my snorkeling gear with me and spent some time snorkeling the clear waters around the island. The captain and I lingered until the tide began to rise. The island became smaller and smaller as it seemed to sink into the ocean. The other groups began to strike their canopies and board their boats to return to Zanzibar, and we soon followed.
Back in Stone Town, I walked the streets one last time. I was scheduled to fly out that night and the hotel had graciously allowed me to have a very late checkout. They had no guests coming that night and told me I could stay until I had to leave for the airport.
After spending the rest of the afternoon in town, I retired to my room to shower and prepare myself for the long flight home. My time in Africa had come to an end, and I wondered when next I’d have the opportunity to return. I hoped to be able to count the days. 🇹🇿
