“
Do you want to go for a walk down the beach?”“No, it’s too hot.”
“Hungry?”
“No, you?”
“Nope. Pass the sunscreen please sweetie.”
“How’s your book?”
“O.K. I guess. It’s too hot to concentrate.”
“In a few minutes when I get the energy, I’m going to go get a cold Tusker from the bar, want one?”
“Now you’re talking.”
Our final five days in Tanzania were passed in this desultory fashion, on Kendwa Beach, Zanzibar. We swam in the impossibly turquoise Indian Ocean, walked the kilometre down the snow-white beach to the next village (once), had henna designs painted on us by Muslim women walking up and down the beach (yes, even the guys got tattoo-like motifs), read books, and marked our days by moving our chairs to follow the shade under the thatched palapas. 
The biggest excitements were rushing after breakfast to bag our favourite palapa near the bar, and betting at dinner whether the meal would arrive in under two hours. It never did. Nor did it matter.After our safari we had taken a kamikaze bus ride from Arusha to Dar Es Salaam. There we celebrated New Years Eve in the midst of the bigger Muslim holiday Eid-Al-Adha (Festival of Sacrifice at the end of Hajj). I discovered the house I had lived in as a teenager is now the parking lot for the new British High Commission. A fine fenced parking lot, with peacocks in it. But still.
We spent a couple of days exploring the spicy historic lane maze which is Zanzibar's Stone Town. It felt more like an Arab Souk than sub-Sahara Africa.
Finally we washed up on Kendwa Beach, and barely moved. After all our adventures, we were just too tired. And it was. just. too. hot.
{This is the last installment of my posts about our 2006 / 2007 trip to Tanzania. Here you can see all of them together. And if you want more info and gorgeous photos, check out our friends and fellow adventurers'web sites about the trip:
G. Vandegriend's web site. The first three photos in this post are his, thanks Hound.
Indra's blog}
