There are three countries in Africa I’ve always wanted to visit. Cape Town, because perhaps it’s the coolest city in Africa, bubbly with culture and the best shoreline ever (I really don’t care for the Table Mountain, I think it looks like a retarded mountain). Then there is Dakar, Senegal, one of the major slavery ports. This place has a history that breaths heavy, and a culture so vibrant it pulsates. Then of course it’s home to the great Youssou N’Dour; talented, humble and a vocal of a god. Lastly there is Zanzibar Island. White sandy beaches, old Swahili culture. The whole shebang. What’s there not to like?
So when Palacina group called and asked me to go down and visit one of their properties, I said “Do fishes swim?” and promptly looked for me swimming shorts, and sunscreen (and no, sunscreen isn’t gay damned it!). On my way down, I sat next to an Indian who was headed to Dar. Normally I try not to converse with people seated next to me, I find it very intrusive and idle. But this Indian guy told me he was selling spices, how can you not talk to someone who declares that he sells spices? Apparently spices are the new black. I asked him what kind of spices; he rattled out a few names which all made me slightly hungry. Then when I asked jokingly whether he had samples, he held up a finger and reached for his inside pocket and yanked out this small parcel containing what he said were spices. You see why Indians are better businessmen than us? They walk with samples!
Anyway, I was booked at Breezes Beach Club and spa. I had four days to soak in the place and bang out a 3,500 word story. Breezes is not a cheap place. Not by a long shot folks. It’s perhaps one of the highly priced resorts I have visited. It’s built along the most gorgeous beach, a beach the breaks your heart with its beauty. Breezes is the winner of “Best resort in Tanzania” which is big deal down there. But if you think that’s nothing, how about this; Conde Nast Traveller, the most prestigious travel magazine in the world rated it as one of the top 30 Island beaches in the world. Not in Africa, the dammed world! At the airport there is a huge banner that announces it as one of the “Two most romantic resorts in Zanzibar”. Hollywood celebrities frequently hold court there. John Legend stayed there not so long ago before I checked in, I was told. Then there is me, a hustler journalist with nary a penny to his name, but full of bullshit and piss. Full of useless glib, but you got to have glib because that’s all you have in this game. You stop waxing you die. I remember telling this American banker who looked like a whale bobbing in the swimming pool (lay off fries and burgers folks) that I was writing for the biggest niche newspaper in the region (no lie) and from that point on he started looking at me differently. You would have thought I told him I was writing for the FT.
There is always one benefit being a writer, only one. You get things thrown your way, by people seeing publicity. Even hotels who really don’t need the publicity like Breezes tow this line. These guys know the value of publicity especially good publicity, so they spare no costs. From my experience establishments which are run by Caucasians are more media savvy than ones run by our own locals. Our own people always pinch pennies, they are always questioning if you will offer value, and in essence they question your professionalism. I once stayed at Nomad The Sands in south coast. Breathtaking place! It’s run by a German guy I believe. It’s the same resort that Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston stayed in at some point. The villa in which they stayed in is something out of this world; the German chap took me on a short tour of that villa which is like a bloody monument now.
The clientele of Nomad is largely foreign; they really can do without the local market. But this guy had me over and he was totally gracious.
Now check this out, I once went down coast to profile a few bars. I did a few swanky once like Il Covo and the works, then my then editor called and said, “Get me a kawa bar. Go to the city center and get a nice guy bar.” So I called a few contacts and asked them to recommend a nice bar in town, something like Kengeles. A place that had a nice decent crowd, great music…a place they won’t spike your drink when you go to the little boy’s room. The bar they picked (I won’t mention it by name) was
owned by this Kuyu guy. Now thing with bar profiles was that we never used to review them, we used to profile them. That meant we recommended them to our readers. So we would just yap on about their good attributes, and unless a waitress peed on my shoes, I would look away. Bars would have us over, and we would get totally pissed on their account.
Anyway this bar didn’t have a decent bottle of wine. Parking was nightmare and it got too full, but I loved its vibe, they also played kick ass music and I was willing to push the boat out and really write a good piece on that account. I think men and some buddy of mine ran a bill of 6k. At the end of the night, while we are saying our goodbyes the owner, let’s call him Karanja, pulls me aside and says, “ I hope the piece will be worth the 6k,”. What! I was giving him a full page worth Ksh. 170,000 and he was worried about 6k! But I was adequately knackered and so I was at a good place and didn’t take offense, or rather I tried not to. But that statement sort of put the kibosh on the copy. Eventually. When I woke up the next morning.
At Breezes, they sort of went all out. I was given a villa with a view of the sea. The villas with a view are more expensive… of course they would have chosen to throw me in one of the villas which didn’t have a view of sunrise. But they didn’t. They also threw in a whole bottle of welcome champagne (which I didn’t finish), a spa treatment, a scuba diving excavation, kayaking, and a sundowner. And the General Manager of the resort, a real cool Kenyan cat called Jacob showed me a long wine list and asked me to pick one. “Any?” I asked skeptically because the cheapest bottle was going for Ksh 5k. “Yes, bro any.”
I met an elderly author from Europe who was staying there for a month to write a book. Her publishers were paying the accommodation running into 1m (minus drinks and beverages) for the month she was there writing! What kind of a hot shot writer is that? “That book had better sell more than three copies ma’am,” I joked and she sort of chuckled because wealthy folk don’t laugh, they chuckle. I saw her each morning, tapping away at this machine that looked like a cross between an Ipad and some spaceship laptop. She seemed totally absorbed in a different world, totally taken by the writing. I wanted her life. Minus that ugly laptop-thingi.
We were like three black people in the whole resort. The black couple was Ugandan. They avoided eye contact with me- it was clear that some people took that Migingo spat a tad seriously. They were not on their honeymoon because not once did I see the man touch the chick. He smoked a lot though and she swam even more. They honestly looked miserable, I secretly hoped they were having better sex. I gave up on them, but on my third day the lady sort of said a weak hi to me, but only because I tried tripping her while she passed by my table. Ok. I’m kidding, she said hi because she found me at the dessert table, lusting over something unhealthy.
Did I have a blast? Yes. But it gets lonely. Such places are places you go with someone. They reek romance. I found myself spending most of my evenings at the bar learning new Zanzibar lingo from the barman. For instance when someone asks “mambo vipi?”, you reply “ mambo heavy”. Look, it’s weird I know, I didn’t invent it. I now have Senegal to visit then I can roll over and die.
I’m back in Nairobi to face a deadline. I can’t seem to start writing the piece. I tried last night, nothing. I tried today morning, nothing. I can still smell the sea and hear the waves, but I can’t get it on paper. Maybe it’s all that booze I had. Maybe the Ugandans cast a bad spell on me in retribution to Migingo. Maybe I need to find that Indian spice dealer, he might have something inspirational. Maybe what I need is to stop whining and bleeding get on with it already.