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Our flight leaves at midnight, but there’s an hour delay…wonderful. The airline however, is not too concerned, we shrug… c’est la vie. It’s a lonely airport in a broke down country, so sneaking into the first class lounge, is quite the non- event. It’s only the three of us, waiting for our adventure to begin, and guess who walks in? The country’s number one Olympic swimmer! That’s nice…that’s an anecdote for later. Finally we say goodbye to Zimbabwe, as we jet our way to paradise, for the next six days. Zanzibar to be precise, but first stop, “Karibu Dar es Salaam.” My friend’s cousin picks us up from the airport, he will take us to the ferry, he will take care of everything, all we need to do is give him the money. VIP he says, you girls need to travel in style, we nod… he knows best. The ferry is only leaving at noon, its 8AM so he will take us to breakfast. The drive through Dar es Salaam is a nostalgic romance, I’ve never been here before, but already I miss it. Old and new, side by side, the city buildings are vibrant. I must return here, I tell myself, when I have more time. An English breakfast later, I want to drink the water straight from the coconut shell, something we don’t have in my country. Hmm, it doesn’t agree with my palate. It’s time to board the ferry, heavy luggage and all, goodbye dear cousin, we shall see you in a week. Now we paid for the VIP, but economy is so much fun, azure ocean views everywhere, calming down our sea nervous friend. We reach the port, I feel like Hercule Poirot, living my best colonial life, as the throngs of thin but strong men, offer to carry my bags. Wait in line and get your yellow fever card out. The cousin has arranged prior, a taxi man, to take us from Stone Town to Jambiani. Before we know it, we walk into the postcard that is the beach, at the Red Monkey Lodge, where we shall be staying. The rooms are okay, we are dwelling for free, in exchange for holding creative workshops, in Stone Town, midweek. But before then, it’s a blur of cocktails, in the rocky cliff edge restaurant, a short walk away. I drunkenly admire the seafoam, Hans Christen Anderson’s mermaid, comes to mind. Yep, that’s my Instagram story and I’m sticking to it. Roger, the local, says there’s a beach party tonight, we will be there, we say, we look forward to it. Thanks for the tip and keeping us irie. So we get to the party, damn there’s a cover charge? But we’ve walked all this way, and what else are we going to do? In we go, and dance we do, the Masai man sees me, and jumps and jumps. I cannot keep up. The daylight is here, and I need my bed, so that I can wake up and see another sunset in paradise. Later, the moon is beautiful, as we sit on the beach, listening to Sade’s Sweetest Gift on the cellphone. We’ve told them the wrong checkout date, and lodge is full to the brim. They make a plan for us, we have two more days, so now we are in a place that I like to call “Room”….I feel trapped. It’s too hot to sit outside on the beach, so first season of "Glow" on the laptop it is. When can we go home? Time to say goodbye to beautiful Zanzibar, our British friend is flying from the island, so it’s just us two, in the Freddie Mercury bar, waiting for the clock, to chime Ferry time. It’s raining and my nervous friend doesn’t want to get on the boat. We can’t stay here, I say, we have no more money…and we have work tomorrow. Even I feel the sickness, as we sway in the sea, and there’s too much rain to stand in economy. The cousin is waiting, he will take us to lunch. We eat and we drink, and now we are stuck in traffic, on our way back to the airport.