A Day Trip

After getting the critters tended to, we were off again, this time headed south in Texas, to Mom’s. We got there later than planned, of course (that seems always to be the case when I visit her), but we got there and enjoyed a nice dinner out on the deck. I was, though, quite tired, so it was off to bed early.

Thursday (after taking Howard on a nice long walk), we decided to head down to Houston to see my sister. Granted, the last thing I wanted was to add three hours to my already thirty-plus hour time in a car, but it would be nice to see her. (And wouldn’t you know, but that three hours turned into over five hours.)

And so, we headed to Houston and had a nice Tex-Mex lunch with my sister and her youngest daughter. (with Tex-Mex nachos done right, thank you very much. I don’t know why people in other states don’t understand something as simple as a nacho, but oh well.)

Afterwards, we headed back to their house, picked up her oldest daughter, and the five of us headed to south Houston (ergo, the extra two-plus hours) so my sister could pick up her dog at my brother’s vet clinic. That was nice, of course, because he was surprised to see Mom and me, and I hadn’t been to his clinic before. He wanted us to stay for dinner, but by this time, it was 4:00, and we were facing an hour minimum back to NW Houston then another 1.5 hours to Mom’s. Add another almost hour at the clinic, plus good-bye time at my sister’s, plus a stop by a Houston grocery store (they have a lot more selection than the small town where Mom lives). I knew, doing some fast math, that dinner was not an option if we wanted to be back at any reasonable hour—especially considering I had a dog and cat who’d be hungry, and a dog who’d need to go out.

Anyway, so we did hang out there about another hour, back across town, said goodbyes, and off to the grocery store. We were home, as I’d predicted, about 9pm. Yawn! Indeed, I was tired again. It was a nice visit, and Mom and I got to listen to two French lessons in the car. Six more to go!

Pack and Load

The packers arrived just after 9. Only two came, and I expected three (or four), but with as much as I'd gotten done, they're making decent time.

The nice thing is that my driver, Hector, arrived today too. He's already gotten started on his inventory, and is even loading some of the truck today too. I think that's grand, because that's making even more sure that I can get out of here tomorrow rather than having to wait until Wednesday.

Both crews are nice as can be. I just went and picked up sandwiches for all of us, so now they're fueled for the afternoon push. Fabuloso!

Also, while out, I ran by the library and picked up the final Harry Potter book on CD---wonderful for the near thirty hours' driving that is upon me. I also picked up some language tapes to learn French as I drive: Ooh La La!

Vive La France!

Over the weekend, as I thought more and more about it, I switched: Paris, it is!

This morning, I booked my tickets---air, hotel, and transportation in the city. Over the next couple of weeks, I'll spend time figuring out my day trips and museum visits while there. I've found a great website with tons of options, and my travel agent will be able to handle a lot of things too. One thing I have found that I'm going to try hard to do is a day trip to the Champagne region. How cool! Naturally, the Eiffel Tower, Versailles, and the Louvre are all on the list. Now it's just a matter of figuring out what's on my own and what's with a tour group.

I'm just tickled as of now, though, to have my destination selected and travel arrangements handled. In the middle of a half-way-across-the-US move, and with two weeks coming up in Texas, I feel quite productive to have that done.

And so indeed: Vive la France!

Eeny Meeny Miny Mo, AAA Style

Having found a home, my next order of business was my birthday trip. And finally, it was time to take advantage of being a long-time AAA member.

I found my local office and sat down with one of the travel agents. And so, we've narrowed the choices to two: Amsterdam or Paris. I've seven days to spend total, translating into five days at my destination. Both offer plenty to do for those five days, and I'm leaning heavily (as of now) toward Amsterdam. I'll sleep on it, read some travel things tomorrow and Friday, and I plan to book it by Monday. In all reality, either way, I don't think I can go wrong. :-)

With that done (and an unbelievable number of travel books in hand---planning also for my likely Christmas trip), I then met with a member services rep to update my info. Before I left, I realized they had insurance specialists there too. My current company does not serve Florida, so I'll need a new company. And so, I sat down for quite a while with an insurance specialist to discuss auto, renters, and yes, flood insurance.

The good news is that even being only a half mile from the river, my home is not in a flood zone. It's still an option for coverage, and one I'll weigh. Considering, though, that I don't yet own, and knowing the elevation from the river (I'll be uphill) and that the house is raised, it's highly likely I'll wait for this one until I buy. (and whew! The house is not in a sink hole area either. yowza---yep! some policies have been denied as being in a sink hole area here.) Still, I have more choices to make---having gotten about four different auto quotes.

Finally, I took advantage of AAA's TripTix service and got maps and details for the long drive from TX to Jax. The prepare a booklet for you, highlighting the route, including markers for rest areas, restaurants, and even descriptions of the terrain. Also, and really cool, they mark known construction areas. And yes, that's all part of my membership!

And so, what a productive day! Tomorrow morning, I plan to drive out to the beaches, clocking it from my new house. I also would like to drive the loop, getting a better feel for that size (making it easier to compare to other cities).

Good trip.

Home Sweet Home?

I arrived in Jax yesterday around noon and promptly got oriented. First stop: Walgreen's for a street map (in other words, a Mapsco, in TX terms). Map in hand, I headed to some neighborhoods to see the houses I'd already listed out.

The first was a huge disappointment in person. The next one was better. It was just down the road from a great restaurant (where I'd had breakfast with a colleague during the interview trip) and super close to the river. The back yard was, well, less than ideal. But it'd work.

I found the third house, and, okay people. Come on. If a yard is "fenced," doesn't, or at least shouldn't, that imply the yard is totally fenced in? Well, this third house was fenced only about 2/3 of the way. Not going to work.

Sigh.

But this third house had taken me to the area I really was interested in---Riverside & Avondale. The two are side by side, and although I'm sure there's some rule, I don't know where one ends and the other begins. Anyway, one house would be fabulous, and its neighbor, not so much. But the area was indeed full of charm.

Tired, and starved, I found something to eat then made it back to the hotel to check in. There, I got online and looked up more prop mng companies and made a few calls. Ah ha! One said they had one property, but it was too late to set up a viewing. Still, I had the address in hand.

I drove by. Hmmmm. Right neighborhood, but you could tell, this house would be small and lacked some character. On the one hand, it was way in my budget, and it was one that would certainly motivate me to buy sooner rather than later. Hmmmm.

So I drove around the neighborhood more. From one street to the next, things could change. But it was that historic eclectic area I like.

By then, it was late and getting dark. I found some dinner take-out, and took that back to my hotel, getting a great night's rest.

Up early this morning, I headed for a Starbuck's and to buy a tape measure. (I now own three---my original, the one I bought last summer looking for a house in Memphis, and this one.) Then I headed up to check out a key to the house I'd seen from the outside the night before.

I found the leasing agency, and while waiting, I noticed one more property listed in the neighborhoods I'd narrowed down to. (I'd found one other online too.) They let me check out the keys to all three properties. I had two hours. I was off!

I started with the third house. It was on the other side of I-95 than where I'd been concentrating, but I was open minded. :-) (the rest of this will be about this first house. I went to see the other two, but nope, they just didn't speak to me like the first one did.)

Back to that property. I drove up, and it was cute! the neighborhood was this small pocked of homes, all from around the 40s and 50s, and most all of them, you could tell, remodeled. Almost all yards were well maintained, and all with my favorite: St Augustine grass. (makes sense, seeing as the city, St. Augustine, the oldest city in the US, is buy 30 miles south.)

I had a key to the back door, so I headed around back. Lovely! There was a HUGE tree in the middle of the yard, big red caladiums around that tree, and a giant philodendron over on a side. There was a deck too, ideal for my patio furniture and grill. As soon as I opened the back door, I saw the kitchen, and able to see into more of the house, did a double-check of the rent. yep. It was more than I'd planned, but it was indeed affordable.

The house is about 2100 square feet. It's listed as a 3/2, but really, that third bedroom would be an odd bedroom; there's a french door from the Florida room (that's what they call sunrooms here) into that room. Still, it'll be a great office.

The kitchen is tons better than where I am now. Granted, it's not perfect. But for rental it's a dream. And it's much better also than mine in Fort Worth. Come on---it's got an island! I love a kitchen open enough for people to circulate; after all, that's where we all end up, yes? (And I've committed to hosting a turkey dinner in November; this one will so totally work for that!)

There are some oddities. A lot of the doors have dead bolts. Um Hmmmm. Dead bolts. I asked, and the leasing agent isn't sure, but I will just get over that creepy factor. The common bathroom has lots of tile (circa 1950s), but it isn't obnoxious at all, even if I am not a fan of blue. At least the blue is the walls, and the tile, half up the walls, is more of a golden subdued peachy yellowish.

But ah ha! This one has TWO bathrooms! (My nieces are already excited about that! we had seven people at my house in March, with only one bathroom. that took organization!) The master bath is just off the master room, and it's tiny. But if I'm the only one in there, that'll be okay.

The entry, well, I still haven't figured that out. It's a room. Seriously, like ten by ten. But it's right there when you walk in the front door. It's too small for a sofa, really. I figure, though, it'll work for my piano.

The laundry room is this odd little room that you can access from the master bedroom or the Florida room. The common bathroom has a window in it---stained glass----and that window goes to, get this, the laundry room. Okay, so clearly we've made some additions to the house. :-)

But when I walked in, it felt like home. That's the same feeling I had a year ago, walking into my first place, And here too, I got to meet a neighbor---the one to the south. She was really nice and welcoming. Young and married and expecting and with two yellow labs. Very nice.

And of course, I went back to the neighborhood this evening. At first pass I was a little worried. There was no activity! Where was everyone? Didn't anyone around here have dogs? Jog? Anything? Hmmmmm.

So I found my way down the road to the nearby grocery store, figuring it'd be good to get a little fruit for the next couple of days. The cost of living here is higher, and I saw that today. While produce and meats weren't that much higher, canned goods and cleaners were indeed more expensive. Good thing I got a 20% raise for my new position!

It was close to seven o'clock, so I thought I'd try the neighborhood once more. (as I said, it's a small pocket of homes, and it prides itself on its home and area preservation.) Ah ha! Here were people! I met two different dog owners out walking, and they were nice enough to chat. They love the neighborhood, and they assured me people are out walking dogs, pushing strollers, etc. One guy had lived there fifteen years, and he said women jogged alone at 5am, and that wasn't an issue. Sure, there are home burglaries, but with proper steps (Howard barking, locked doors), that risked is lessened tremendously.

And so, I think I've found my home. I've made the decision to head back to the leasing agency tomorrow morning, and I'll check out the key one more time and submit my rental application. My criminal history is vacant, and my credit's excellent. I've also touched base with my HR contact, and she's faxing an employment & income verification in the afternoon.

Oh! And if you want something, ask for it! I realized, after I'd left the house the first time, there was no refrigerator. I swung back by, and indeed, none there. Argh. Well, could buy a refrigerator. Granted, I'd rather not, as when I buy a home, I want to be sure that what I buy will fit ideally in there. Anyway, so back at the leasing office, I sighed, "But there's no refrigerator." The manager was standing there, and she said, "Let me ask. If that's the only thing that'll keep you from this house, I bet we can work that out." I then asked, "I didn't see this property online, so I don't know, is yard service included?" She said, "I'll ask."

See, she had just been emailing the owner, replying to an inquiry. And the house has been vacant for six months. The owner is mo-ti-va-ted. And so, he's putting in a refrigerator! (not new, but that's a lot of money I don't have to spend!) AND he's going to continue the lawn care. Cool!!!

Ah---and this afternoon, I visited two nearby Ys, and they'll be perfect. They both have spinning, and one has an indoor pool and the other, get this, a rock climbing room! Neither's more than three miles away. One will be ideal for early morning (just over the bridge), and the other easily accessible coming home from work, without dealing with bridge traffic.

WooHoo! And so, as I said, I think I have home. This visit has been easier than last year. After all I haven't had to spend time moving boxes into an office, doing lunch with new colleagues, or driving here. I've had almost two full days already of looking, and that's less than I got to use last year. And it's not like I've been totally alone; I have already chatted with my traveling companion from last year, my sister, about these houses. And she reaffirmed with me: I need to have a place that's nice. And I need to have a house that makes me as happy as this one did on first look. It's time. It's the right thing for me.

As soon as I make it final, I'll post some pics.

Brrrrrrrr . . . But I Heart NY

I'm here, but there's a word of the day: frigid. Yes, I tell you, it's darned COLD! --especially 86 stories in the air! (at the open observation deck of the Empire State Building!)

(Low tonight about 16, wind chill at 0 or -1. High tomorrow about 23. Lisa had to approve the new gloves I had to buy today; after all, her being from Wisconsin, and this feels like home. She also knows what things keep you warm (and even loaned me her gloves for the first half of the day today, with her wearing mine because she wasn't as affected by the cold as me. (And mine are good for driving, but not warmth. What a sweetie!)

So yes, I arrived safely in New York City late Tuesday night, after yes, yet another delayed flight. Sigh. (I'm actually missing American Airlines right now. And that's not totally fair. Northwest had many many timely flights for me this year. it just so happens that these last three in a row have all been delayed over an hour.)

Anyway, Lisa's flight had gotten in about thirty minutes earlier, so she had waited, then we were off to Midtown Manhattan--to the New York Hilton, just about five blocks south of Central Park and about the same north of Rockefeller Center.

Standing in line for a taxi took about twenty or thirty minutes, and when we finally got to a cab, there was a sea of them! An entire parking lot was filled with taxis just waiting to pick up the next fare. I think that's when the cab became my NY symbol, as that's now one of the two magnets I bought for my fridge. (I collect magnets from places I travel, and that way my 'fridge is always a happy memory wall..) I also I bought a small metal cab for my office. (I also get something small for my office when I travel for work.) And my friend Lisa surprised me with a taxi cab pen for good luck when I had to take a couple of hours today to work on tomorrow's presentation.

Anyway, it was a fabulous day, and I'll post details and pictures soon. But seriously--this is an amazing city. And except for one grumpy man in a wheelchair (which I would be grumpy too at that eye level on a very crowded sidewalk), everyone has been very friendly--even the cabbie who stopped and picked us up tonight although we were standing on the wrong side of the street. After all, he said, it was cold.

No, actually, it's FRIGID! Brrrr.....

A Long Journey Home

Juma arrived at Matemwe Beach Village at noon, as arranged, to drive us to the airport. And so, it was back across the island. We stopped briefly in Stonetown to get some stamps and so I could mail my postcards, then to the airport.

By 2:00 or so, we were off the island, headed back to the mainland of Africa. We landed in Nairobi and settled into the transfer center for our first long layover.

About eight hours later, we were off again. I settled in for sleep, and dozed for most of the flight (indeed, ambien is a good thing on overnight overseas long flights!). We landed at 5:30 Friday morning in Amsterdam, local time. And so, it’d now been nineteen-and-a-half hours since Juma had picked us up, and we were barely half-way home.

We had another eight-hour layover in Amsterdam, passing time with breakfast, getting new boarding passes, and catching up on emails on the airport’s wireless internet.

By 1:00, we said good-bye. Mimi had a direct flight to Seattle, and I had a direct flight to Memphis. She was off then, and thirty minutes later, I was back in the skies, headed home.

This flight, though, was a long ten hours. Knowing I’d want to sleep when I got home, I stayed awake most of this flight. I talked for a while with my seatmate, on his way home from Iraq. I watched three movies, and I made friends with eighteen-month-old Raquel, walking her up and down the aisles, amusing her with laughter, and even holding her for a while, giving her mom (traveling alone with her) a little private time in the bathroom.

Finally, back home, through the, well, let’s call it unique (and time-consuming) customs arrangement at the Memphis International Airport, and out for a cab. And what a way to end the trip: my cab driver was Kenyan! We talked a while, and he was quite excited to hear of my journey. But soon, I was home—thirty-nine hours after Juma had picked us up on Thursday.

To say Howard was happy to see me could be nothing but an incredibly understatement. He nearly knocked me down with his kisses. Sophie, too, was very loving. And with their greetings, I managed to stay awake until 9:00, which is when I finally gave in to sleep.

What a wonderful trip.

Good-bye Africa

I awoke early the last day and headed straight for the beach. The clouds had moved in, surely about to bring rain to the western side of the island. For me, they simply provided some incredible flirtations with the sun.

I took some shots, poured myself a steaming cup of coffee, and took it all in for one last time. The sound of the ocean truly does heal my soul somehow, and this morning was no different. Sitting there, I felt closer to peace than I had in some time.




It was, though, finally time to get moving. I dressed, packed, and headed for breakfast. Afterwards, there was time for one more walk along the beach.

The beach was busy. Boats awaiting fishermen, men headed out to fish, women carrying loads of things down the beach, boys on bikes, and even two small boys working on their boat who just adored posing for pictures then giggling contagiously when they peered at the picture in the window on the back of my camera. I walked a ways, then turned, ready to head back.






It’d been a wonderful visit and a fabulous vacation. Alas, though, it was time to end. And so, it was time to say good-bye to Africa, again. Will I return? I’ve learned that is a question that I cannot answer; there’s really no telling.

Diving the Mnemba Atoll

I woke early enough to head out to the beach for sunrise and coffee. Yes, this time we were on the east side of the island, and they set up coffee and teach each morning at six, just before the sun peaks over the horizon. I was just a little late for the full effect, but it was still glorious. In fact, I captured this shot of our dive boat, anchored just off the shore.

After another tasty breakfast, again with delicious fresh fruit and juice (and finally—peanut butter!), it was finally time for my dive!

Side note: translations sometimes get confusing when we spell things based on what we hear and what we’ve seen before. The special advertised for breakfast was as follows: “Two pancakes with grilled tomatoes and means meat.” Hmmm. Mimi, though, figured out that this meant minced meat. Ah ha! But still---pancakes, tomatoes, and ground beef/ Hmmmm. My mind is a little wrapped around bacon and ham from breakfast, and browned ground beef just wasn’t speaking to me. And so, I went with just the pancake.

We checked in at the dive shop then loaded up for the drive to the boat. Yes, I had caught a picture of the dive boat just off the beach that morning, but due to the tide, we were unable to load up on the boat there. And so, we survived the forty-minute very bumpy ride farther north on the coast---almost directly west of Mnemba Island. (The rest of the roads on Zanzibar were fine, but these, whew! Very bumpy!)

Arriving at the boat, we, once again, waded out to the small motor boat that had come near the shore to pick us up. We then headed out on the larger dive boat to the first dive site—a wall dive on the outer edge of the atoll.

My dive master, (Vanessa from Holland), had just me and Shannon with her for the day. And Vanessa was wonderful! She just swam along slowly, mostly letting the current take us along the reef. Vanessa did a splendid job of pointing out interesting sea life—turtles, eels, lion fish, etc. We stayed down for fifty-five minutes on the first, dive, having gone down about fifty feet. We then surfaced, enjoyed a light African lunch on the boat, and headed off to the next site: the Aquarium. Again, a nice relaxing fabulous dive, seeing incredible salad coral, stone fish, rock fish, and several blue-spotted rays, even a baby one! Below are pics of a spotted ray, nestled under the sand; an eel, mouth wide open; and a turtle, resting atop some coral. (Click on the pic for bigger view.)







That afternoon, we enjoyed a nice happy hour at the hotel bar area, visiting with Shannon and Rod. The two of them, who both live in Phoenix, are traveling in Africa for six months—having started in Egypt, and working their way to Cape Town,. Now that’s quite a trip! Shannon also had an extended trip in India where she stayed at an ashram, learning to be a yoga instructor. Ahhhhh….one day, perhaps.

And what would our last night with a happy hour be without Dawas? Mimi and I both had Dawas when we went out to dinner in Nairobi in March then again the day we did lunch at Carnivores. Muddle limes and their squeezed juice with Pemba honey, fill with ice, then top with chilled vodka. Yumm-mie!

One final dinner, and that was our last night on Zanzibar.

And as a point of reference, here's a map that shows all of the places I went on Zanzibar: Stonetown, Chumbe, Matemwe, and even Mnemba Island (where the atoll is that I dove).

Matemwe Beach

Blue water, white sand, and warm sun are the ingredients for a fabulous island vacation, and Matemwe Beach delivered them all.

After getting settled in, resting a bit, and enjoying a bite for lunch, I headed off for my scuba refresher course in the pool. My instructor went over the basics of putting my equipment together with me, which was good because as pretty much just a vacation diver, I don’t do that myself much. Once in the pool, we did some basic drills, and I passed each skills assessment: regulator recovery, mask clearing, buddy breathing, and finding then maintaining my neutral buoyancy. Although I felt comfortable diving without the refresher, I liked that this operation took safety seriously, requiring the pool refresher for anyone who hadn’t been on a dive in over a year.

That done, Mimi and I rushed out to the beach for our sail. Two men handled the sailing, and Mimi and I and a couple from Switzerland were passengers. The boat, made of one piece of wood, is similar to a dhow but much smaller. The boat is about a foot wide and a foot deep and has one sail that can be switched, by moving the rope, from one side to the other without the use of a boom.

With more wading out to the boat, we pushed off from the shore and set out for a half-hour sail around the area. The water was beautiful, with an amazing array of blue shades.




After our sail, Mimi headed off to read by the pool and to get fitted for her snorkeling equipment, and I went for my massage. The masseuse led me along the beach to a hut. The walls did not come all the way to the straw ceiling, so all during the massage, the sound of the ocean served as the soundtrack. Fabulously relaxing. I will note, however, that for both the Uganda and Zanzibar massages, I missed the greaseless oil I’m used to here. But then again, the cost of each there, added together, is still less than one massage here. And so, not so bad in the end.

We dined that night with a couple from Portugal and another from France; she was German and he French. All but one of us spoke English, and all but another (me) was fluent in Spanish. All but two were fluent in French. And so although we could not all converse at once, we made do.

Matemwe Beach Arrival

Our final destination was Matemwe Beach Village. After the boat ride back to Zanzibar early on Tuesday morning, Juma, our original driver from the airport, met us back at the Mbweni Ruins Hotel. (We had arranged the time with him when he dropped us there on Sunday.) Arriving to the shore of Zanzibar, I took one last look toward Chumbe, and the sight in view simply whispered, in ultra clarity, relaxation.


We drove back into Stonetown, made a stop at the ATM, then headed off across the island. We drove to the far east side, not too far from the northern tip. After trying to find the Matemwe Beach Village once, but failing, our second try got us there. Ah—finally, the place where I will dive.

The first person who greeted us was at the pool area and had on a One Ocean shirt, indicating he was with the dive shop located there at the hotel. I told him who I was, that I had two dives booked the next day and a refresher in the pool booked for that afternoon; it was about 11:30 a.m. when we arrived. And so came the abrupt change from the laid-back African culture I’ve grown accustomed to here. (and that, by the way, I relish while here)

This man all but outright scolded me for arriving “late,” saying it was too late for the refresher and I should have been there earlier. I, trying not to be too visibly irritated at this abrupt change in attitude (from Chumbe—all about service with a smile and “Is no problem”—to this “shame on you for doing what we told you to do”), tried very politely to explain that the booking agent, Generose (who turned out to be the sister of an employee at Chumbe (Niva)) had told me everything was fine with my booking, that my refresher would be the afternoon of the 11th, and that I’d even confirmed everything on the 9th with Max at the Stonetown Once Ocean office. The gentleman, whose name I never learned, irritated with me, took me to the office area of One Ocean where I met Frank. I explained the situation to Frank, and he disappeared, then finally, Xavier came from the back area, this time, smiling.

In the meantime, I sent Mimi to go ahead and find where to check in for our room, so we could relive Juma, our driver, of our bags.

Xavier gave me the option of completing my refresher right then or later in the afternoon, seeming most accommodating. I’d like to be generous here and assume the first gentleman was simply having a bad day, but I learned later that people at Matemwe Beach either “get” guest services or they don’t. And no, that guy just didn’t. Fortunately, though, Xavier, originally from Barcelona, did.

Having straightened that all out (and opting for a later refresher), I found Mimi checking us in. Between her and the gentleman at the desk, though, I felt quite overwhelmed and rushed. My traveling companion, perhaps it’s being from the East Coast, has quite a habit of saying “yeah, yeah, yeah” when you are talking. I find it very frustrating (but not, for only a two-week trip, frustrating enough to create any sort of discussion over it). And this man at the desk was also rapidly listing out details of our stay. He would begin to explain something, she’d say, “Yeah, yeah,” and he, thinking, I’m sure, she must already know all of this, would abruptly discuss the next item. Later, she complained that he was going over things too quickly. I tried, gently of course, to explain that her concurrence in everything he said—given even before he’d completely discussed the details, probably hurried him along too. She denied this. (Don’t we all deny, too much, the things we do in conversing with others? Those things that cause such frustration to our conversation partners—one-upping their story, not listening and breaking in too rapidly (when I recently told someone I had a bad cold, as soon as I said it, I then found myself immediately listening to how that person had suffered a cold—two weeks ago, never actually asking how I felt or how I was doing, when I was the one who brought it up. Sigh.), getting distracted (I admit, I’m quite bad about this one), etc? (No, I’m by far not perfect, either.))

Anyway, we got booked a ride on a sailing boat, booked massages, and got our room key. The room was nothing spectacular, but here, we were certainly not paying resort prices.

The place’s motto is “No shoes; no news”—ah, yes. Take off your shoes and leave your news behind. All the paths between the buildings were sandy and soft, and they were even swept each morning—removing the cahsewy tree seed pots that were quite uncomfortable to step on.

And finally, we went and booked Mimi for snorkeling; she would go out on the same boat as I would for my dives, but she and two other people would just snorkel.



With all of that settled, finally, we found the large lounging area, looking out to the oh-so-blue water, and ordered some cold drinks. Ice, of course, is not easy to come by. And on this trip, my cool drink of choice became Fanta Orange. Perfectly refreshing, even if a bit too sweet.


This place too had wonderful areas to kick back, listen to the water, and, yes, relax.

An Ecotourism Experience

Chumbe Island is a small island off the west coast of Zanzibar—not too far into the Pemba Channel.


What once was a military island, the coral reefs around the island had not been exposed to damaging fishing or boat anchors. When the island was no longer going to be needed by the military, a woman, noticing the pristine condition of the reef, thought the coral needed protection. She set her thoughts into action, and eventually, a private organization took got protection for the reef—at least on the west side of Chumbe Island.


But how to keep the reef as pristine? First, no fishing is allowed on the reef. Also, no boats can try to anchor in the area. Finally, the island is set up as an ecotourism location—allowing people to visit the island, researchers to learn about the island, and the island protection.

With ecotourism, to my limited understanding, we try to leave as little impact on an area as possible. In other words, the goal is for humans to hardly change anything from the natural state.

Some things about Chumbe . . . .

First, access to this island is not as easy as most tourists are accustomed to. No pier or dock serves the boat to the island, and the boat is at the mercy of the tide. For us, it was low tide when we were to catch the boat. And so to get there, we rolled up our pant legs and waded out to the boat. (Fortunatley, the rain was just then ending, even though the skies still appeared a bit ominous. They cleared quickly over the next hour.)


Our (now arrived) luggage? The staff from the boat (the small boat) raised each suitcase above their heads and carried each piece the long distance from the dry shore out to the boat. While we’d had notice that wading was required, always remember that knee-deep for one person might be mid-thigh deep for another (who’s as short as I am).

And again, once at the island, we had to wade to the shore. Upon leaving the island, I was happy for my last wading-through-the-surf experience. (Little did I know, but of course, that there was more to come.) (Here's the pic of us leaving. The water was indeed so incredibly blue.)


Chumbe has no electricity. All power the island uses is from solar power. We had lights in our bungalow, and we even had a small fan in the upstairs, which I pointed directly on my bed at night. (Mimi was fine sleeping in the heat, but me, I missed my A/C.) There was a large solar panel that was meant to heat water for showers, but we never did actually get that to work. Still, the weather was hot, and so the cool showers were actually refreshing.

Water? All water used on the island is collected from rainwater. The bungalows and visitor’s center are designed with this purpose in mind. The roofs are sloped so as to most efficiently collect water, and they have a Swiss filtration system, filtering that rainwater several times making it even safe enough to drink.

Ah, but if water is conserved so well, what about the toilet? It’s a composting toilet. From the room, it looks like a regular toilet. One difference, however is that the lid had a seal around it to seal the lid and the seat tightly. Also, of course, there’s no flusher. Once you, um, “go,” you simply take two scoops of dirt (which is really compost that’d been composting for over a year) and pour the scoops into the toilet. Only biodegradable items can be put down the toilet. It’s equipped with a vent pipe, reducing the odor significantly. In fact, the odor isn’t a sewage-type odor; it’s more earthy. About every six months, they remove the lowest level of what is now compost, and things just keep going.


With all this ecotourism and protecting the environment, Chumbe also is protecting two rare species. First, the coconut crab—the largest land-dwelling crab in existence. Also, Chumbe is home to the Aders Diaker, a very small and very rare antelope.


Other wildlife? I can say that I’ve truly never seen so many hermit crabs in my life! They are everywhere! Of course, anywhere else, and tourists would have scooped them up, taking them home as “pets.” But the people who go to Chumbe are the sort of people who when told, “Don’t touch; just look,” actually don’t touch. (I fear that several members of my family would be the type who would think they were the exception; too many of those sorts of people, and Chumbe’s creatures loses their protection. So sad.) Our ranger, who is authorized to touch, picked this one up for me to get a pic showing the size of this guy in the pic.

Our bungalows were designed to be environmentally friendly as well.

As I mentioned, they have solar power only, roofs designed to collect and filter rainwater, and compost toilets. They are also built with a design a bit like a ship so that the air is pulled through the bungalow, bringing in a breeze. (But the first night, after a thunderstorm, the air was so still, no amount of design—other than the small fan—could provide relief.)

Our bungalow also provided an incredible view of the water and wonderful accomodations. Downstairs was a table and sitting area, including a hammock for relaxing. Upstairs were two beds with a mosquito net, the fan, and a small reading lamp. Sarongs were provided for us (with polite requests to use them so as not to offend any of the staff who are Muslim). Between our bungalow and the water was a large padded swing and two lounge chairs.





The island has only seven bungalows, and they limit the guests to only fourteen people at a time. When we arrived, there were four other overnight guests and one couple there just for the day—for snorkeling, a forest walk, and lunch.

All over the area where the bungalows are you can find places for relaxing. Near the beach is a sheltered area, about the size of a queen-sized bed. Inside is a canvas-covered mattress atop a platform that swings—yes, the entire bed is a swing! There’s another shelter near the beach with giant cushions and pillows, some bleached shells, and the wonderful ocean breeze—a place just begging you to lie down with a good book and enjoy the sound of the waves and the feel of the ocean breeze. Of course, I truly just loved going to the beach area---natural white fine-grain sand. And with so few people as guests, each time I went, I had solitude---me, the sun, and the gentle surf. Heaven.


My personal favorite spot, though, was upstairs in the visitor’s center. The center was originally built as the lighthouse keeper’s home. It has now been turned into a visitor’s center with several sitting areas, a dining room, and a classroom. (The island brings children from the island of Zanzibar to learn about conservation, swimming, and ocean wildlife.) (The second picture is as viewed from our intertidal walk.)



And upstairs is a very large area, sucking in a refreshing breeze that gently, but wonderfully, whispers thorugh your hair, continuously with the breeze. Over in one far corner is a suspended swing overlooking the northwest side of the island’s coast. From there, I sat, read my book, stared out at the boats, and just “was.” That was indeed fabulous. Sitting, and swinging here, I would take a break from reading my book and gaze out at the water. Looking north, I could see the colorful boats anchored just off shore. These boats were there waiting to take staff mmebers off the island, provide a small dhow ride for guests, and to take us off shore to the incredible reef for snorkeling. Looking west, the water reached usually as far as you could see. (One particularly clear afternoon, you could just barely make out the coast of the mainland of Tanzania.) But breaking up that view, every so often, would be a dhow passing by---no doubt, carrying fishermen out to make a living.





And the food? You might worry with all this “basic” approach, the food wouldn’t be anything special. But it was splendid! I met John, the cook, on the boat ride over. And did he ever do a fabulous job. Seafood kabobs one night, beef another, fabulous ratatouille, wonderful curried veggies, and of course, always lots and lots of fresh fruit. In addition to wonderful flavor, the setting for each meal was spectacular. Most meals we sat with a wonderful view overlooking the ocean.

And our first night, for dinner, three tables were set up near the beach. Yes, just three tables because there were only six guests staying overnight. Here's a view of our dining room--as seen from atop the lighthouse.



Our second morning we started off with a forest walk. Our forest ranger, Juma (yes, we met about four men named Juma—a very popular name on Zanzibar), guided us around a path, pointing out the trees that are adapted to survive on this coral rag—with barely a few inches of soil atop a lot of rock. We found fossilized giant clams, learned about the tree (this cactus-looking one) that is poisonous (but also, as part of the Chumbe forest reserve, still protected), and saw two coconut crabs. We also saw mother-in-law tongue plants growing wild in their natural habitat. The view from the east side of the island was as wonderful as that on the west.

As we passed by the island “workshop,” we also passed the compost area for the kitchen—where they place all the discarded fruit and vegetable matter. The hermit crabs were having an absolute feast! Juma explained that the hermits feed hungrily during the day, but at night, the coconut crabs change places with the hermits, hungrily feeding on what’s left. Here's a puzzle for you---click on the picture below (to enlarge it) and see how many hermit crabs you see chowing down on this compost pile of fruit and veggie scraps:



Shortly after our return from the forest walk, we walked out for an intertidal walk. We started a bit too late after low tide, so we couldn’t make the walk around the whole island, which is possible if you start out at just the right time. But we did make it out to an area of land that during high tide, is an island. In the many tidal pools, we saw many urchins, lots of different types of crabs, and even several giant clams. We also found several sea cucumbers, which, when gently prodded by Juma, squirted water. I said, “Oh, he peed” This amused Juma quite a bit, and he kept saying, “It peed.” I wasn’t sure he knew that was slang, and I then explained, “urinated,” and Juma said, “Urinated—that is the scientific name, no?” I tried then to change what the cucumber did to “spitting,” but I still fear Juma’s next guests will hear how the cucumber “pees.” Sigh.


Both days we were there, we enjoyed about an hour-long snorkeling journey over the protected reef. What beautiful coral! Now, what I would see later off the east coast of Zanzibar would be more breathtaking overall, but this, well, this was amazing due to the sheer variety. The reef has over 200 species of coral! Absolutely amazing!


That lighthouse I mentioned? It’s still in operation. Many of the fishing boats around Zanzibar are dhows, and the dhows are a very basic sailing boat with no sort of computer. And so, a lighthouse is an appreciated item from those sailors. But because the lighthouse was changed to a type of gas that doesn’t need as much maintenance, no longer does a lighthouse keeper need to live on the island. On our first night, we climb the many steps up to the top, rewarded with an amazing view of the island and surrounding waters.

The sound of Chumbe was pure island-quiet. You could hear the sound of the waves, gently lapping the shore’s edge. But otherwise, there was no music, no artificial sounds, no nothing. It was just nature’s relaxation soundtrack.


And so, my time on Chumbe was certainly enjoyed. We left early Tuesday morning, our bags, once again carried out to the boat as we waded out as well. As the boat moved back to the main island of Zanzibar, we bid farewell to Chumbe Island, its beauty, and its peace.

No, it isn’t a “resort” type of place (although the prices could have seemed so). But every staff member was welcoming, helpful, and seemed genuinely interested in your having a good, relaxing time. But would I return? It’s not on my top list of things to do. After all, I have many other places to visit. But it was incredible, and I don't hesitate to recommend it to anyone else--provided, of course, you can handle a little ecotourism.

PS: Our last night on Chumbe, we ordered a bottle of champagne with dinner, and indeed, we toasted my sister's birthday. Happy Birthday Charla!