Zanzibar. Savor the exotic spices as the whimsical moniker rolls off your tongue, and your mind conjures up images of silk and shamshir curved swords, Sultans and ancient Persian traders from well before the Middle Ages, drawing wealth from spices and ivory and slaves that flowed through this exotic port since time before history.
While I often thought Dar es Salaam sounded exotic enough, I've spent enough time there to rather dislike the horrendous traffic and hustle and bustle, but for little more than a few hours ride in a boat, or less than two on the fast catamarans that frequent these waters, one can head out into the Indian Ocean, crossing paths with dhows unchanged in their construction for millennium, wood sail boats and heavy tankers and sleek yatchs, to the centre of the universe very long, long ago, the world's centre of trade connecting mainland Africa with the Middle East, India, Indonesia, China and beyond.
One arrives in Stone Town, with impossibly narrow alleys and bustling markets of fish and spice and colourful fabrics, and you can't help but feel the Arabic and Portuguese influences, the dark history of slaving, the history of the Sultanate of Oman and Tippu Tip, to the bizarre popularity of Freddie Mercury, a Parsi born in Zanzibar.
One wonders about and tries to absorb what one can, to find little nooks of ancient hardwood to sip dark coffee and listen to the noises of the town, visiting dark pits that held inhuman numbers of mankind, bound to a fate of hard labour, ancient baths of Turkish design, and dilapidated forts designed to keep marauders at bay.
A last beer, a return to Dar, and a return to work, flying modern day traders struggling to keep the world of commerce that has thrived in these waters for millennia, forever moving forward. Pirates still frequent these waters......
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