Did you know that in Africa people really do say “Hakuna Matata”? I couldn’t believe it. I never thought Walt Disney invented the phrase, but I didn’t think people actually went around saying it! The first time we heard it used in context was when a porter showed us around our bungalow in Zanzibar. We thanked him and he replied by saying, “Hakuna Matata”! I think we were both a bit surprised and amused, because Josh just kind of giggled and I had a stupid grin on my face. For a moment I wanted to say, “Oh my God, I LOVE that movie!” but I exhibited restraint. In case you’re wondering, The Lion King was correct in saying it means “no worries” in Swahili. And while we’re on the subject, did you also know that “Simba” means “lion” in Swahili? (As you can see, I’m practically fluent!)
So how did we end up in Africa? After spending the former fall/winter season shivering our way through cold European cities, Josh and I decided we wanted to go someplace warm. We asked ourselves, “What’s the Caribbean of Europe?” and landed on Africa. Hot, exotic, adventurous… it was the perfect location.
Our first port of call was Zanzibar—a Tanzanian island off the coast of East Africa. Before I tell you about our little oasis, I feel inclined to comment on our journey to the resort. It was humbling to say the least. Not that people looked ill or unhappy, but there were kids riding in cow-drawn carriages and villagers stuffed into tiny, rickety buses. Houses were made of stone with no roofing, beds or furniture as far as I could see—and I could see because most of these houses were also missing four walls. They looked more like construction sites than actual homes. Admittedly, you can’t help but feel a bit guilty driving around in an air-conditioned cab with a personal escort.
An hour into our ride and our driver announced that we were just five minutes away from the resort, but by this point the road was vacant. A few more paces up the street and still nothing. No signs, no ocean views, no gift shops and not a single person for miles. I started to feel like we were in an episode of the Sopranos. Finally, after passing a long patch of tall grass we came upon gates that were protected by two guards. The guards proceeded to have a brief exchange in Swahili with our driver, before waving us through to paradise.
I didn’t really have expectations of what the resort would look like. In fact, I barely looked at the website. We left most of the details up to the travel agent—not my preferred Type-A method of vacation planning, but I’m not complaining. No, not at all! The reception area of Breezes Resort was a sight in and of itself with wood carved-furniture, golden vases and ivory fabrics. It looked like a Persian palace and it literally took my breath away.
After we had our debriefing and complimentary mango juice, we were escorted to the open-aired bar for lunch and got our first glimpse of the Indian Ocean. It was filter-clean and the mild waves gently crashed against a winding stretch of unspoiled white sand. When you looked at it, everything else in the world seemed to melt away. Our bungalow was just as stunning with a private patio, king-sized bed and Roman shower. Not to mention that everywhere you went you were greeted by lush green palm trees, tropical gardens and friendly staff that loved to say “Jambo!” (“hello” in Swahili).
One member of staff in particular happened to take a liking to us, and us to her. She was an incredibly attentive server (who made killer mojitos) and brought us complimentary breakfast when we slept in on our first morning. Later that evening we learned that she was part of the Maasai tribe, which made us both a bit giddy. We’d heard all about the Maasai—“a
Nilotic ethnic group of semi-nomadic people located in Kenya and northern Tanzania” (Wikipedia)—we’d seen pictures of them in their red-warrior robes and knew the odd bits about their culture, but never did we think we’d befriend one!
As the story goes, Dorah left (or perhaps escaped) her tribe to pursue a better life and education. Apparently it’s good to be a Maasai man, but it’s not so good to be a Maasai woman. Since we took a genuine interest in her culture, she would pop over to our sun loungers and tell us stories about her life and her people. It was like having our own personal beach professor.
Other than getting our lessons from Dorah, for three days we took advantage of all the resort had to offer. We took a private yoga class and got massages. We floated around on paddleboards, read by the ocean and ate dinner to the tune of live African music. Only once did we leave the premises and that was to visit Stone Town.
Stone Town is the main city in Zanzibar, and I’d heard tales of it being home to a great food market and lots of spices. As Zanzibar is known as the Spice Island, we decided this excursion couldn’t be missed. In hindsight, I would replace the word “excursion” with “experience”, because Stone Town was not what I’d expected. It’s interesting how we each have our own frame of reference that we base our expectations on. For example, I’ve been to loads of cities and markets before, so I thought I knew what Stone Town was all about. A few stalls filled with spices, fruits and homemade bracelets. Wood carvings and “I heart Zanzibar” T-shirts. But I guess I’d forgotten that outside the gated perimeter of Breezes Resort was an entirely different world.
In Stone Town there was in fact a market, where we learned about the spices and the local fruits (like Jack fruit). From there we took a spin around the neighborhood to see the architecture and the shops. And for these reasons, it was unlike any other place I’d been. But here, our guide was not permitted to leave our sides. He hung close to us and kept a watchful eye out for his charges. We came to discover that outside the resort walls, Zanzibar is a pretty dangerous place (at least for tourists). It was an adventure nonetheless. And our adventure was punctuated with a real Maasai spotting. While eating lunch at Africa House, a very svelte man in full warrior regalia and arrows tucked into his belt, sauntered into the outdoor cafe. So yes, by now I was already BFF with a Maasai, but Dorah wore flowery cotton shirts and Nike sandals and worked at the hotel. This guy was the real deal. I was a little scared, a bit awe-struck and 100% jealous of his posture (wonder if he does Bikram?). He left as quickly as he came, but I’ll never forget the sight of him.
It felt like our time in Zanzibar came and went just as fast as the Maasai. While I didn’t want to leave Breezes Resort and our new friend, the private beach and fresh seafood, I was ready for the next phase of our adventure—safari in the Serengeti. But that’s a story for another day….
