Several of us tacked a few days onto the end of the tour, primarily for a lie in the sun next to the Indian Ocean. For that the Z Hotel was perfect, with a beautiful pool literally on the edge of the beach. Some of the group were keen and insisted on hiking up to the fish market every morning, but between a touch of gout and tummy trouble I was content to take it easy and just soak up the rays.

The beach at Nungwi shelves very slowly, with high tide almost reaching the hotel steps, but low tide allowing you to walk out 100 yards, maybe twice that if you don’t mind getting wet up to your knees. It’s also famous for its starfish, which are regularly swept around the shallow reefs within walking distance. You don’t need specialist equipment to photograph these – a phone will do nicely if it’s rated for the odd short immersion. I had the TG6 and my snorkel, so I could go out with the tide a bit higher and get them in slightly deeper water which removed any issue with reflections from the surface.

I was also hoping to get two additional side-trips into the last few days: a deep sea fishing trip, and a catamaran cruise. I have done each many times in the Caribbean, you just ring up, book your place, turn up and pay. Often they even provide a taxi from your hotel. Not in Zanzibar. You can’t walk 100 yards down the beach without someone pestering you about a fishing trip, but it’s a completely different commercial model. They will happily charter you a boat, for anywhere between $400 and $1000, but it’s then your job to fill it. There’s no such thing as a "shared" trip where they do that work, apart from the dhow cruises which I’d already experienced. Sadly none of the others on Lee’s trip were keen, so the week came and went without fishing or a catamaran trip.

Happily I fared better on snorkelling, although there were some "administrative complexities"… Two of our group, Richard and Laura, had come out to Zanzibar early to do a dive, and they’d also been on a snorkelling trip with Safari Blue which they highly recommended. The only trouble was that the trip was based out of Fumba, some distance south of Stonetown and 1-2 hours’ drive from Nungwi, not ideal for a day trip. However I was also looking at the problem of a very late flight back, which would potentially mean paying the hotel for another day’s use of the room, and we came up with a cunning plan.

I got in touch with the very helpful Khamis at Safari Blue, who organised the whole thing. For an extra $65 I would get a driver for the whole of my final day, who would pick me up from my hotel and drive me down to Fumba for the trip. My luggage would stay in his vehicle under his watch. After the trip I could get a shower and meal at the Kayak Club in Fumba, change into my travel gear, and then the driver would drive me straight to the airport. The total for the driver and the trip actually worked out less than the hotel would charge for a day room and an airport transfer, so the snorkelling trip even saved me money! And it worked like a dream. I did have to talk the driver and the people at the Kayak Club through the arrangements, but once they understood they were all very helpful, and I ended up at the airport fed, luggage intact and fresh for the flight.

The trip itself was excellent. "Captain Morgan" (a stage name, I suspect) welcomed about 15 of us onto a medium-sized wooden sailing boat and took us first to a small sand-bar to see some seabirds, then out to the shallow reefs for snorkelling. This was easily the best snorkelling I had done in 20 years, splendid colourful coral and numerous entertaining fish, some of whom were actively curious coming up to the camera to be photographed. Lunch was taken on a small island with a fish BBQ followed by a "fruit tasting" with Captain Morgan. After lunch we routed back to Fumba beach via an area frequented by dolphins, and were privileged to see a number swimming round and breaking the water. I got very lucky with one grab shot of one of the dolphins breaching clear of the water – pretty much my last shot of the trip, but what a last shot. A bit blurry due to the distance, but who cares. Job done.

As is traditional, here’s my group panorama from the “last supper”. From left to right Louise, Andrew (yours truly), Other Andrew (“Spike”), Ann, Mark, Richard, Lee, Sarah, Nicola, Jon and Michelle.

As it was shot in very low light I passed it through Topaz Photo AI to reduce the noise and clean it up a bit. I love the cheerfully judgemental language Topaz uses, but I will spare the blushes of the 5 of us it deemed as having “low quality faces”!

The departure time for the morning shoot was set even earlier than on previous days and I again demurred, preferring to catch up on sleep now my body had adapted to the warm. Apparently I missed a shark being landed by one of the fishing crews, but I suspect I still made the right decision.

After breakfast we went to tour another village, Pwani Mchangani. Although a similar size to Matemwe, and only a few miles down the coast, this had an oddly different feeling. The fact that we weren’t constantly pestered by children, some bad-tempered, helped, but it was interesting that the locals with whom we interacted were much happier to pose for the camera, with a cheerful and friendly demeanour. There were signs of slightly greater prosperity: a café in the centre of the village, a couple of tourist shops and more busy-looking local ones. The difference was subtle, but significant, and made the visit more pleasant and productive.

Dhow Trip

For the last full day of the main tour, Lee had arranged a sunset dhow cruise. At 4.30 we waded out a few yards and climbed into a dhow, one of several which now focuses on tourist rather than fishing duties. The captain used the outboard to get off the beach and pointed in the right direction, but otherwise we were under sail immediately. To our amusement our guide, Omar, was literally "learning the ropes" and operating as an extra crew member. You didn’t need much Swahili to realise he had a fair bit to learn.

After a short jaunt northwards the sail was set for the opposite direction and we headed steadily down the beach, getting great views of the hotels, the other pleasure boats and all manner of goings on. The majority of hotels are moderate in size and nestle neatly into the shore, but there is one behemoth which looks completely out of place. Obviously the planning process in Zanzibar is driven as much by brown envelopes as elsewhere.

We eventually turned northwards once more, with the sun bathing the beach in a warm glow. Shortly before sunset another dhow kept pace with us and, whether by accident or design is unclear, positioned itself perfectly against the sunset. Almost the last shot of the tour was the one many of us had been expecting all week. Result!

I carefully did not set my alarm, so that I would not have to get up to join the sunset shoot, which would be another walk up and down the length of the beach. However this all proved academic when it started raining heavily just before dawn and the whole thing was abandoned anyway.

Wary of the risks of repetition Lee had organised a morning trip to Matemwe, another village on the north east coast. Although there are allegedly some new hotels and private houses on that part of the island, Matemwe appears to be relatively self-contained and unspoiled, but, one suspects, even less prosperous than its neighbours.

After our guide, Omar, explained what we were doing we got a mixed reception. The older characters around the fish market were happy to be photographed, but many did not really understand the concept of smiling for the camera. On the other hand we were, within seconds of our arrival, swamped by vast numbers of primary-school-age children, who certainly did understand the concept, but who were also obviously aware that there might be money to be had. Some posed nicely, but a few were outright naughty and, when it was apparent that the adults were to receive the money, even a bit aggressive.

As we wound our way through the village we, and in particular Nicola, our very own pied piper, were followed by an enthusiastic "tail" of the more persistent youngsters.

For the afternoon shoot Lee suggested being prepared to wade into the sea to get lower angles on the boats. I took the instruction literally, and dressed in trunks, a non-precious T shirt, and took only the TG6 waterproof camera. This paid dividends in two ways. I got some unique shots of the dhows with low reflections, but when I waded right out to meet an incoming fishing boat I was welcomed and allowed to photograph boat, fish and crew without any restrictions.

We made an early start and met our new guide, Omar, at about 5.30. He immediately set off at a pace which would not have disgraced some military route marches, through the rough back streets of Nungwi. This was a bit of a shock to those of us expecting, and shod for, a gentle walk along the beach.

Activity around the fish market was much less manic than in Stonetown, but we got to see some very large fish including rays and marlin being landed and then auctioned. While there was no sunrise to speak of, once the sun started peeking through the trees to the east the boats were lit beautifully.

We opted for the beach route back to the hotel and breakfast. Circuit 1 complete, 4km.

After breakfast we met Omar for the official village tour. We returned to the back streets of Nungwi, first stop the school where we had a very interesting talk / fundraising exercise from the school principle. This was almost heart-breaking. He and his staff are obviously caring, determined educators, but they are battling with large class sizes (80-100 in some cases) and close to zero resources. The school’s textbook store (for almost 2000 pupils) is not much larger than my office bookshelf, and they have to teach “sending an email” in theory because they don’t have any computers for pupils. They will be receiving the contents of my “goodie bag”, plus a more substantial donation when I get home.

Apart from that there wasn’t a great deal to the back streets of Nungwi. Most of the adults would prefer not to be photographed. Most of the children are less concerned, but we attracted the attention of a group of very excitable youngsters who made it a challenge to take photos. I got a nice photo of a pretty young girl, but what you can’t see is that I took this one-handed with the camera in my right hand, while my left hand was holding back the naughtiest young boys from trying to photo-bomb her.

Village toured we set off back to the hotel for lunch. Circuit 2 complete, another 5km+.

The geographic challenges of Nungwi were becoming apparent. All the hotels are on the west side, stretching down the long beach. The village and other photographic targets are on the northern stretch, and it’s a fair hike between them. This would be less of an issue except for the sweltering heat, and by lunchtime one member of the party had retired with heat exhaustion, and I was distinctly wavering about going out again.

Fortunately I did. I came up with the eminently sensible and simple solution of getting a taxi from the hotel back to the fish market. This didn’t save any time – the roads are so bad the taxis struggle to maintain a walking pace – but saved the energy and legs of those who opted for it.

The afternoon session focused on the dhow builders. This was absolutely fascinating. These highly-skilled craftsmen work with the simplest of hand tools to fashion mangrove and mango wood into the beautiful boats. The sequence is that first they lay down the keel with prow and stern timbers, then they build up the hull on the keel with temporary side supports, and then they fit the ship’s ribs into it. I must have spent an hour or more watching a chap take a curved length of tree trunk, and work it with a hand adze into a perfectly-fitted rib with a square profile and surfaces smooth to the touch as if they had been planed and sanded.

With the sun setting we walked back down the beach. Circuit 3 complete. My FitBit reported that the day’s activities amounted to 18.5k steps and 14km, and I’d taken a taxi for one of the legs (well, both my legs, but you know what I mean)! That may be a personal best for a trip of this nature. Hard work, but rewarding when you find the right subject.

I eschewed the opportunity for a 4.30 start. Instead I took advantage of the lack of an arms race between the various religious factions regarding who can wake up whom earlier, and had a bit of a lie-in. After a more gentle awakening I wandered down to the equally beautify and empty beach below the Fun Beach Hotel, and got some nice early morning shots although the cloud cover prevented a full sunrise.

On my way back I stopped at the bar and managed to get a very tasty latte. However it appears that "make coffee" and "operate till" are different modules in the hotel’s training course, and a succession of four bar and support staff were unable to print out a bill for me to sign. Never mind, it was still a very nice coffee.

After breakfast we packed up and set out on the next leg of the tour which would take us from near the south east tip to right at the northern one. Our first stop was the splendidly-named Bububu. Apparently this dates back to the building of Zanzibar’s one railway in 1905. The locals who lived near the northern terminus vocalised the sound of the steam trains as "Bu Bu Bu" and the name stuck.

When Lee scouted out this trip in 2019 Bububu was working hard as the temporary main fish market, the large market in Stonetown being closed for extensive modernisation. In the 4-year interim that business has moved back to the new buildings at Malindi, and Bububu has reverted to a quiet stretch of beach hosting a handful of fishing boats and not much else. We spent a pleasant half an hour wandering along the sand, but it was not quite as billed.

Lunch was taken at a large, spacious, well-equipped but almost empty hotel a mile up the road. It’s not obvious what their target market is: they are too far out to be genuinely convenient for Stonetown 7 miles away, and they don’t have the extensive beaches and other tourist services of the Jambiani and Nungwi areas. Maybe there is a market for an out of town convention centre, but it’s not obvious. The arrival of 10 hungry and thirsty photographers obviously threw them completely and they couldn’t even supply beer, but we did get a tasty if slightly overpriced vegetable curry to keep the wolf from the door.

The next stop was Mkokotoni, on the Northwestern coast. This had distinctly more going on, as it’s the terminus for the ferries connecting the adjacent small islands. Traffic was high, apparently because a local character had died and a large number of locals had been to the funeral on the island. The sea floor is very flat, which leads to an interesting loading and unloading process. The ferry brings the people and goods to within about 100m of the water’s edge, at which point they transfer to a smaller boat pushed through the water by another ferryman. About 10m out they disembark and wade through the remainder until it’s dry enough to put shoes on.

We were also treated to the spectacle of a boat being burned. Less dramatic than this sounds, it’s the standard way to prevent too much algal build-up on the wooden hulls. A few times a year they haul the boat out, set a fire of coconut matting around it and burn off all the algae before re-sealing the wood.

Back in the bus we headed the short distance to our final stop, the Z Hotel in Nungwi. It’s a smart hotel, but the beach is very busy with both six-legged and two-legged pests – you can hardly move for hawkers. I have to admit I was expecting something more like Jambiani: open and largely unoccupied, but apparently not. Fingers crossed that it works.

We made an early start and headed for Zanzibar’s South East coast. The trip took a bit longer than expected, but at least we were in a comfortable air-conditioned bus. After dropping our luggage at the hotel we headed for the local village, where a guide took us to the school, and then demonstrations of making rope, grated coconut, coconut milk and woven elements all from the same tree. I had a go at the coconut scraping machine, which consists of sitting on a low stool with a very sharp blade between your, er, coconuts, and trying not to scrape anything other than coconut. Ooh-er.

It was very, very hot and by the end of the demonstrations we were all flagging a bit and headed for a slightly early lunch. I was focused on food and beer. However as we stepped out of the alleyway onto a beach all that evaporated at the sight of dozens of an aquamarine sea in amazing pre-storm light dotted with beautiful old dhows. I was in photographic heaven all the way for the long walk down the beach to our lunch venue.

After a very good lunch with, for a very welcome change, copious quantities of water (but sadly no beer) we waded out after the receding tide for a demonstration of seaweed farming, and photographed some women collecting shellfish. While we were drying out we were entertained by a tumbling act.

Back at the rather excellent if misleadingly named "Fun Beach Hotel" we spent the last couple of hours sitting around an enormous pool with pina-coladas. That’s more like it!

Dinner experienced a failure none of us had previously encountered. The food was tasty, well-cooked and accurately served. The drinks were another matter…

I had a fore-taste when the collective bar staff failed to comprehend the following related concepts:

• Yes, I did want to order 4 pina coladas, to be delivered to my cabin by the pool
• No, I was not going to drink them all. Other people would drink 3 of them
• No, I did not need to provide their room details. I was happy to pay for all 4 on my bilk

The first inkling of a problem surfaced when they served pre-dinner beers with what looked suspiciously like tooth mugs. Mine tasted as if some of the toothpaste was still there.

Several of the group ordered water (yet again not a default…) They received a large bottle of water and a shot glass.

Mark ordered a bottle of wine to share with me. The bottle turned up, but no glasses. We asked for glasses.

Two pina colada glasses turned up. We sent them away.

Two shot glasses turned up. In desperation we accepted them and started doing Merlot shots.

The general manager was consulted. Two wine glasses arrived, but one was immediately taken away to provide a glass of wine for Louise.

A few minutes later a third wine glass was located, and Mark could finally get the full benefit.

One wonders if this is a regular occurrence…

Night 2 was an improvement on night 1, but I was awoken by an unfortunate combination of back-ache (something to do with all the steep stairs?) and a very early Muslim call to prayer.

We started at the big Malindi fish market. I’ve been in fish markets before, but never anything on this vast scale. Zanzibar has a separate government ministry for the "blue economy", and you understand why when you see the amount of fish being landed and traded, twice daily, at Malindi. Photographically it’s a good location, with a lot of activity and interesting characters, both human and piscine. As you’re not either involved in or impeding the commercial activity there’s no great issue with taking photographs, although you do have to honour the wishes of anyone who indicates that they don’t want to be photographed.

After breakfast we hit another large market, an indoor one focused mainly on foodstuffs. The contrast couldn’t be greater. The spice stalls might be colourful, but the vendors are competing very aggressively for your attention and don’t easily take no for an answer. Other stall-holders are less obviously in line for your business, but many of them either say "no photo" or demand money. Given the relatively limited light as well, I tired very rapidly and beat a retreat, to find most of the rest of the group had done the same. We did have a pleasant wander through the streets back to the restaurant booked for lunch (another excellent meal, I had coconut lobster), but I didn’t get much in the way of images.

Later in the afternoon we wandered back down to the harbour, to find it much less manic than on Sunday, and with a couple of groups of lads doing dramatic jumps into the water. I was particularly taken by a group dressed in honour of the Cameroonian football team, one of whom was wearing a proper superhero outfit including cape. Great fun.

Toward sunset we wandered back to the supposed sunset location. The beach was busier, the riff-raff ban presumably lifted, but still no dhows. We baled early – let’s hope it works at Nungwi.

No sooner is the Red Rock Blog committed to the Internet, then I’m off travelling again. This is yet another catch-up multiply deferred due to the pandemic. While all the travel this year has been great, it’s been a bit manic and I won’t mind if 2024 is a bit more measured.

The destination this time is Zanzibar. I thought it would be a really exotic and unusual target, but in the last two weeks I must have talked to four people who replied either “been there” or “it’s on my list”, so maybe it’s not.

The flights were smooth and uneventful, except both legs ran about an hour late, and we had to get on a bus in Dubai. At least I didn’t have a missed connection like Lee and Ann, the tour leaders. Emirates seem to be operating on the same basis as Omar Sharif in Lawrence of Arabia and training their guests to operate on the same amount of water as a determined Bedouin tribesman. Fortunately I had bought a bottle, otherwise I would have been gasping.

It is a bit disconcerting when the crew are making an announcement in Arabic and you clearly recognise the words “Marburg Virus”. I’m old enough to remember when the shorthand for haemorrhagic fever was the name of that unfortunate town in West Germany, not a small river in the Congo. When Jim Bergerac and his colleagues had to deal with an outbreak in Jersey it was Marburg not Ebola. Just for balance a notice at the Zanzibar airport mentioned the Congolese name as well. None of that was mentioned in anything I saw before I travelled, but hopefully any real problem is a long way from the tourist centres.

The Emerson Hotel is a posh Victorian colonial home converted to a hotel, obviously under the Tanzanian equivalent of grade 3 listing. Sod’s law my room is at the top of 6 flights of what may be the steepest stairs I have ever encountered. The compensation is a roof-top view of the harbour area.

The sleep deprivation experience is not quite as marked as some photographic trips, but they are trying hard. I slept through from about 9pm to midnight, at which point there was an enormous clap of thunder about every 15 minutes. That went on for a couple of hours, then subsided. I was just getting back to sleep and the rain started hammering down. As my room is on the top floor directly under a tin roof I got the full “benefit”. The rain lasted at least half an hour, after which I drifted off again, to be awakened at 6am by someone banging out a crude repetitive rhythm on a anvil (or maybe a particularly tuneless bell). It’s not clear whether that’s a standard feature or a Sunday treat. So much for a lie-in!

New one for the dysfunctional hotels blog. During the rainstorm some water came in and ran down the rope holding both active and spare toilet rolls, both of which are now soaked!

After breakfast I moved from the rooftop room to a larger one lower down as per the original allocation plan, so hopefully night 2 will be more peaceful.

We were let out on our own before lunch. I visited the Freddie Mercury museum (he was born to love you in Zanzibar) and managed to buy two T shirts which is close to a personal best. Back to the hotel and everyone had finally arrived despite an impressive combination of flight delays and re-routings.

We spent the afternoon of the first day wandering the streets in a slightly more structured way with Alawi our guide, but sunset was a wash-out as all the locals had been chucked off the beach to avoid a visiting dignitary having to look at riff-raff, and there were no dhows coming and going. Maybe tomorrow.