Our final full day on Zanzibar Island was upon us and we had actually left ourselves without a plan.  I guess we assumed that some jetlag recovery time would keep us settled in close to the hotel pool and beach, but that isn’t how the day went.  The night before I messaged my amateur travel agent and love of my life, Beth, for some ideas.  And as always, she came through with a good one — an ATV tour out of Kiwengwa on the other side of the island.

As always, it was very easy to hire a taxi to drive us where ever we needed to go for the day.  On the one and a half hour drive across Zanzibar’s interior, we saw the landscape change from the congested and touristy Stone Town to a more rural setting.  We had learned along the way about the islands 3 forms of industry:  Stone Town provided mostly industrial careers; the interior was predominantly for agriculture; and the coastlines were all about fishing.  Regardless, its very obvious that these people work hard to maintain any sort of living.

Enroute we came across a couple of Polisi check points.  Normally we think of these checkpoints for drunk driving prevention, but here they put the importance on assuring your license, insurance and registration are up to date.  Our driver didn’t have a current sticker on his license plate and was expecting that they would mail him a ticket.

 

Finally reaching the small village of Kiwengwa, it was time for lunch.  Dad and Taylor must have been especially hungry as they had slept through breakfast.  We were taken to a place known as Obama Beach Bar which was supposed to have really good pizza.  As far as pizza goes, it wasn’t too bad.

This place was sandwiched between dozens of “resorts” that seem to especially cater to Italians on holiday.  I put “resorts” in parentheses because they all are a little more rustic than what I would qualify as a resort.

Hanging out at the bar and on the beach were a dozen or so Massai warriors in the traditional clothing.  Some played billiards (I should have gotten a picture) while others lounged around, but they were all very interested in our presence there.  They operated a small stand selling some handmade crafts and jewelry; certainly they wanted us to come and purchase there wares.  But they were very friendly and willing to pose for a few photos so we took some time to purchase a few items.

Because we waited until the final hour to call to reserve our places on the ATVs, they were fully booked for the day.  “Hakuna matata” (no worries) our driver knew a local guy who could squeeze in as long as we were willing to ride two up.

Connor actually drove most of the time.

Well, from what we read on Trip Advisor the original company received nothing but favorable ratings from there customers.  I don’t think the “local guy” we used was listed on trip advisor.  Our group had four machines and all were pretty much complete crap.  One Italian girl had about 4 incidences where her ATV would stall out.   And then, hers quit because a battery cable snapped which was only a short delay because the company owner and his employee (who led us on an old 150 cc motorbike) seemed to have the necessary tools and know-how to make emergency repairs.  But then we began having issues with the ATV that Connor and I were riding — the chain kept popping off the sprockets.  After about four times, the reason became apparent.  The bearings on the rear axle were completely shot.  Hakuna matata!  They had a new set of bearing and the rudimentary tools with them to fix it up.  Well after about an hour, the repair didn’t exactly work as planned so the remainder of the tour Connor and I got towed.  Honestly, I look at this setback as part of the adventure.

Spectators for the repair.

The ATV tour took through 3 different villages all with different levels of tough living conditions.  Some lived in grass huts without electricity, while others were in clay houses, no water.  And then some in brick and clay.

Despite the harsh conditions one thing was certain, the beautiful little kids made the best of the situations which they were born into.  The appreciation they had for a simple little cookie or lollipop was quite inspiring.

The ride back.