After staying at Afro Beach Camp for our first few nights on Mafia Island, we ended up pitching our tents in the gated yard of Nungwi dive shop, where their boats and equipment were stored.  The daily trips across the island to the dive shop and Marine Park were getting expensive and when our dive master realized we were sleeping in tents, he proposed we relocate the boat yard.  He also told us, since the dive shop was inside the Marine Park, we could get two days of diving for one 24 hour pass.  We decided this was a great deal since the dives on Mafia were so spectacular. 

Even though the dive schedule was the same everyday, the days were always a bit different.  On our second to last day we welcomed the company of another young couple on the boat and instead of staying onboard for our first safety stop, we were brought to a beach to sunbathe.  For lunch we returned to Utende, where our dive boat departed from, and discovered a hole in the wall restaurant serving calamari sauce poured over rice.  Though it didn’t look very appetizing, it was absolutely delicious.  There weren’t many meals on the coast worth writing home about, but this one was.  

When the dives were done, we returned to the shop, set up our make-shift camp and headed down to Big Blue resort, one of the fancier spots on the island, to enjoy a drink and, more importantly, use the internet. 

Our last day on the island proved to be a challenging one for Jon.  A stomach bug had hit me earlier in the trip, which then moved onto Steph.  Unfortunately, it hit Jon 20 meters below the surface of the ocean.  He was pretty miserable and just barely managed to complete the dives.  

We’d only planned to stay at the dive shop for one night and had one night left on the island before getting the ferry early the next morning.  We decided we’d rent somewhere with actual beds so Jon could recover before making the long, uncomfortable journey back to Dar Es Salaam.  Thankfully, the dive shop manager not only arranged our ferry tickets, but also drove us to the Ibiza Inn, which was a bit expensive, but just what we needed.  

Jon headed straight to bed and Steph and I headed straight for the bar, where there seemed to be some sort of birthday/bachelor party on the go.  A young man was walking around with balloons tied around his waist which people were asked to pop.  We politely declined, but his two male friends were quick to invite themselves to sit at our table, thinking they’d found two single girls on an island with few tourists.  Eventually, Jon arrived to burst that bubble.  A nap in our air-conditioned room had done him a world of good, but he was in no mood for their company and suggested we move to a quieter table, further away from the blaring TV. 

After sleeping comfortably for a few hours, we were up at 4am to grab our bags and got ready to walk to the beach to catch the ferry.  On our way out the door, Jon finally threw his old sandals in the trash.  They were held together by tape but had made it through the trip.  

It was a 10 min walk from the Ibiza Inn to the ferry.  When we’d arrived on the island the week prior, we’d disembarked the ferry into a smaller motorboat and were taken to the shore where a plank had been laid down for us to walk on.  This morning the tide was out too far for that to work.  Instead we had to walk into the water and climb into a motorless boat that was quite literally packed to the gunwales with people. 

Of course, Jon had just disposed of his sandals thinking he wouldn’t need them for the rest of the trip, so he ended up barefoot, holding his sneakers in one hand.  A couple boats filled up before they checked our passports and told us to get into the next one.  Once the boat was full, a few men stood on either side and walked us out until the water was to their chests.  Then, a small motorboat came alongside and we had to climb from our boat into that one. 

The motorboat drove us to the ferry that was sitting further off from the beach and we had to climb over the side while both boats heaved and rolled.  This was certainly not a situation we felt comfortable getting pushy on, leaving us to be the last ones to board the ferry.  We all managed to board without injury, but the only spot available to sit was on the edge of a platform above the engine room.  The heat rising from the engine was unpleasant but every other square inch of floor was full of women and babies.  Of course, this had to be the point of the trip where both of our butt pads (small  Thermarest for sitting on, which Jon may have loved more than he loves me) decided to permanently deflate. 

As though this 4 hour journey was not tourture enough, when we arrived on the mainland we had to endure intense negotiations to get on the bus for the hours long journey to Dar Es Salaam.  The negotiator for the bus was so aggressive about overcharging us for our bags, he and Jon nearly got into a physical altercation when he tried to snatch money from Jon’s hand.  On a positive note, the experience made us ok with our trip through Africa coming to an end.  Soon we’d be in a country where these levels of discomfort weren’t the norm.  

Once in Dar, it took us a while to find our hostel.  The marking on google maps was incorrect and the building was located behind a high metal security gate in a neighbourhood under construction.  The owner seemed pretty blasé about our frustration when we finally found the place.  

After settling into our room, we decided to find a nice restaurant to try to redeem an otherwise miserable day.  We found what looked like a nice Indian restaurant a 15-20 min walk away.  You’d never know we were in the country’s capital from the neighbourhood we were in, but it was nice to stretch our legs after the long transit day.  The Indian restaurant was everything we hoped for and we gorged ourselves on palak paneer and aloo gobie and Kilimanjaro beer while enjoying the AC.  

Our last day in Africa began on a low note when Steph discovered she had several insect bites that looked like the work of bed bugs. The owner remained blasé about this too.  We tried to spend as much time away from the hostel as possible as we waited for our evening flight to roll around.  We found an air-conditioned mall to enjoy iced coffees followed by pizza and bought snacks and gifts for the trip home.  After returning to our room to do a final pack and check out, we put on our bags and headed back to the Indian restaurant for one last meal with Steph.

And so, mine and Jon’s trip through East Africa came to an end on February 19th.  We said our goodbyes to Steph, who was off to Zanzibar the next day, and headed to the airport.   

The next morning found us in Zurich, Switzerland for a 6.5 hour stopover.  We took the train into downtown just as the sun was coming up.  It was quite the change of scenery from the last 2 months and was a good way to bookend the trip.  After almost taking the wrong train and ending up in Bern, we headed back to the airport, where we took advantage of our free travel lounge passes.  Amazingly, one of our yearly visitors to Trinity was there.  He lives in New York City and his two favourite getaways are Trinity and the Alps. 

We boarded our plane back to Canada, where I would spend a week in Montreal and Toronto visiting family, believing we’d see Steph again next winter for another big adventure.  Little did we know that travel as we knew it was about to come to a grinding halt and the reason was on the plane with us.  Three weeks after this flight we were informed by health authorities that someone on our flight had tested positive for COVID-19.  We were told to immediately quarantine and were visited by a nurse the next day to be tested.  After five stressful days, Thankfully, we both tested negative. 

Hopefully, someday we’ll be able to travel again, but for now, the memories of travel seem that much sweeter.