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Zanzibar. O Zanzibar.

Probably 25 years I have dreamt of going to Zanzibar. The only evocation of Zanzibar fills your mouth with spices, your ear with the plaintive violins of Taarab music, your eyes with the views of sailing dhows on the emerald sea, your imagination with pirate stories, wooden doors concealing the harem of the black sultans.

End of the love affair.
I went to Zanzibar and was disappointed.

Stonetown streets mostly cater to tourists, it's hard to find alleys in the old town where you're not greetd with "jambo rafiki (hello friend)... Come visit my shop karibu (welcome)."

Zanzibar beautiful beaches propose completely insane european prices or even MORE expensive. The most local life you can meet around are either the Masai security guards or the beachboy touts (also called "the ticks" like the bloodsucking insect, for their ability to cling to you day after day).

Not even speaking of the cultural "visits" : uninspired guides take you, for a hefty sum of money, to places where your moves are carefully inspected. If ever someone catches you clicking on your shutter, you poor camera fool, there will be chances that you'll be asked for dollars by anyone standing in a 50m radius.

Is there anything left of the Zanzibar I dreamt : probably only a name fading in the distance... The fall of Zanzibar.

So I better look at the boys playing in the sea at the old harbor. Let me fill my mouth with this name again : ZANZIBAaaaaaaaaa...

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Additional Photos by Luko G R (Luko) Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Star Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 2424 W: 490 N: 2900] (14000)
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