The name sounds like a whiplash in the sand: Zanzibar. Perhaps because it evokes the 19th century, when slave traders locked up Africans hunted in the heart of the continent on the island; or when the British made this island of Tanzania the base of their explorations before leaving in search of the sources of the Nile. The names of Livingstone, Burton, Speke or Stanley still resonate between the chipped walls of Stone Town, although Zanzibar has become , in recent years, in a valued destination of white sand beaches lined with palm trees and turquoise blue waters for foreigners eager for paradise on earth.
There are times when the beauty of the island blinds the traveler. This is the case, for example, on the eastern beaches, in the towns of Paje, Bwejuu or Jambiani, where the white sand shines with a special light, filtered by the shade of the palm trees. From the beach, where bars and restaurants with local flavor now abound, you can watch the dhows glide through the water like the boats of yesteryear, with wooden hulls and triangular sails, while women in brightly colored dresses collect seaweed taking advantage of the low tide.
In this part of the island, The Rock restaurant, isolated on top of a rock at low tide, exemplifies the dream of many foreigners who came to Zanzibar to break the routine that gripped them.
The island of Zanzibar is teardrop-shaped, measuring one hundred kilometers long by forty-five kilometers wide, and has dreamy beaches. On the south coast, where there is no place for mass tourism or stress, stands the luxurious The Residence hotel, with a private beach and pavilions with private pools distributed in an immense garden where red colobus, endemic monkeys, roam from Zanzibar, and guinea fowl. As if this fauna were not enough, the sea offers the possibility of swimming with playful dolphins.
Not far from this hotel, near the Jozani forest, you can see the many spices that grow on the island: cloves, pepper, vanilla, cinnamon, turmeric, nutmeg… Clove plantations were promoted by the Omani sultans as an alternative to the slave trade, when it was abolished in 1873.
A book by the German nationalized Zanzibar Emily Ruete (1844-1924), Memoirs of a Princess of Zanzibar, recounts what life was like in the select environments of the island long ago. Her story is from a romantic novel. Daughter of the Sultan of Zanzibar, Emily fell in love with a German merchant with whom she fled in 1866. Her father disinherited her, but she returned to Zanzibar many years later, in 1885, to find that nothing was the same on the beautiful island of Zanzibar. she.
In the north of Zanzibar, next to the town of Nungwi, there is a group of hotels where the deformed and bloated trunks of the baobab trees reach the very beach, where improvised riverside carpenters make dhows with their crude tools. It was with similar boats, taking advantage of the trade winds, that the Omanis reached Zanzibar, where they founded a sultanate in 1698 that lasted until the British protectorate in 1890. There were also periods of Portuguese, British and German rule. All these cultures, together with the original Swahili and that of the merchants who came from India, are reflected in the streets of Stone Town, the Stone City baptized with this name in contrast to the huts and shacks on the rest of the island.
The labyrinthine alleys of the old city and the 17th century Omani fort have their moment of splendor in the House of Wonders, one of the palaces of the sultans. It was in this palace, next to the Foradhani gardens, where electricity first arrived on the island, but today it is pending restoration.
Walking through Stone Town, the anti-elephant protections on the doors of the Indian merchants, and the houses where explorers such as Livingstone and Stanley stayed, are striking. Near them is the Livingstone Bar, which concentrates the musical activity when night falls. Not far away are the crowded shops where everything is sold, the markets in merriment and the ignominious memory of the time of the slaves. The Anglican cathedral, from 1879, remembers the victims of that horror right in the place where the slave market was held. Next to it stands a monument against slavery and a dungeon where slaves were kept.
The terrace of the Africa House, a hotel set up in the former British troops’ barracks, is the ideal place to watch the sunset from Stone Town, while drinking a Kilimanjaro beer and letting time pass without haste. Opposite is the Prison Island and not far away is the house of the Arab trader Tippu Tip (1837-1905), who became rich thanks to the slave trade. On the main street, Capital Art Studio is located, a business that dates back to 1925 and belongs to a family that has collected the photographic history of the island for almost a hundred years. Its owner, Rameh Oza, continues to sell old black-and-white photos, but fears that the high rental prices will end up driving him off a street that is now almost all shops geared towards tourism.
In recent years, a competitor to historical figures has emerged: Freddie Mercury. The basement of the house where the Queen singer was born, in 1946, the son of some Indian merchants, has been turned into a museum. The house is neither old nor beautiful, but the singer’s name acts as a hook. Near the port, by the way, is Mercury’s Bar, which also pays tribute to the singer.
Beyond Stone Town and its stories, however, are the beautiful beaches that attract tourists from all over the world, perhaps because they know that in this paradise, problems are parked, at least for a while.
