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Archive for September, 2004

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Paradise Island

Monday, September 6th, 2004

Zanzibar, June 1984
Riek and I took a bus to explore the interior of the island. We trundled past coconut groves, banana plantations and green fields of yams, manioc and sugar cane. Big breadfruit trees grew by the roadside. A plethora of tropical fruits and spices are grown on Zanzibar, many brought from Indonesia by missionaires. The cloves for which the island is famous filled the air with their scent
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Id al-Fitr on the Spice Island

Sunday, September 5th, 2004

Tanzania, June 1984
The Indian owner of the ship was a scoundrel who had hopelessly overloaded the vessel. At least he too had been on board. He refunded the price of the tickets and hopefully resolved to be a better person in future. I guess it is too much to hope that he compensated the crew that had saved his life, clad in rags.
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Peril at Sea

Thursday, September 2nd, 2004

(a shorter, edited version of this has appeared as a Boots story)

Tanzania, June 1984
I awoke to the gentle flapping of my tent plane and the rolling of waves on the beach. Still groggy I crawled out onto the sand. The previous evening had been long as I finally met other travellers to talk to. We sat around a crakling campfire until the small hours, smoking a joint rolled from the entire page of a newspaper. It was the biggest reefer I have ever seen, but the grass was rough.
We were joined by an Irish overland group on their way to Kenya. It was the first happy group I had encountered, they sat together all evening talking and laughing.
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Shifty types

Wednesday, September 1st, 2004

Tanzania, June 1984
I had been trying to get a ship to Zanzibar for three days and still not managed to secure a ticket. For the third time in as many days I walked to the Zanzibar Shipping Company, a green building near the Kariakoo market. It was not yet eight in the morning so I found somewhere to have a coffee and a pipe; on my two previous visits the ticket counters had been closed for at least an hour after my arrival. However when I walked across just before nine they were not only open but under siege and the queue that had formed was at least 100m long.
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Running into my teacher

Wednesday, September 1st, 2004

Tanzania, June 1984
Dar es Salaam sprawled endlessly, dirty and flat. I walked the streets until dawn without finding a place to stay. Eventually, I reached the city centre and walked around a corner where I collided with a young man.
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