Ode to the dhow...the authentic way to reach Zanzibar. Authentic my eye! We'd only recommend this avenue of transport to those whom we view in extreme disfavor. Whilst, staying at Peponi (our little slice of heaven where one can obtain a quality meal of surf and turf for roughly $7 USD and the hot water runs nearly limitless in the shower) we met a lovely Dutch couple who had arranged to hire the local fishermen to take them to Zanzibar in his sturdy, motorized dhow. Initially, we were disheartened to hear that it wouldn't be as truly a unique and authentic experience as we had hoped - we really wanted to sail to the island on a proper dhow. However, upon hearing that the estimated travel time may range from 8 -36 hours on the 25 ft vessel we figured the motorized option sounds down right awesome as it touted arrival within 6 hours. A word of advice to ye worldly travelers out there: check the weather before you get into a "boat" - or what appears to be two parts of a tree strapped together that is to carry you and all your possessions several hours across the ocean. About an hour into the venture Nick started to look a bit green and had the opportunity to meet with his breakfast for a second time as he gazed longingly into the waters of Davy Jones Locker... We chuckled at his expense and chalked it up to a few too many beers the eve before. As the sky darkened and the clouds closed in Casey made a rush for the side of the boat so he too could "toss his cookies." Once his task was complete Casey returned to our group all smiles with a face full of saltwater. Next was Harold, our Dutch friend. And so the rotation continued, Nick, Casey, Harold, Nick, Casey, Harold... Erin was so consumed by the lack of life jackets and the Gilligan's Island theme song that was relentlessly playing in her head that the violent tossing of the ship did nothing to the contents of the food in her stomach. The fear of no option for escape and no land in site plagued her every thought. It was only when land was in sight and we were about 15 minutes from the port that she relaxed enough to join the boys in their close examination of the tossing waters. End score: Nicholas:10, Casey:7, Harold:6, Erin:1 and Linda took Dramamine and passed out for the duration of the trip. Finally, we arrived in our new little haven: the Twisted Palms Resort in Bwejuu, Zanzibar. A lovely joint run by a friendly older Italian couple. Once again, Erin had her small bed in the corner and the boys shared their romantic King. Haha. It was here that we were finally able to relax - free from large, dirty buses with only the occasional dalha dalha (basically, a flatbed truck with benches in the bed that serves as the major public transportation for relatively short distances throughout Africa) and a water truck to be used as our transportation other than our feetsies. We spent several lazy days on the white sand beaches, eating delicious (inexpensive) local food and soaking up the sun (ask Casey about this later...)

(P.S. Casey just smelled his shirt and looked up happily and noted at least this one doesn't smell like sourdough..it is difficult to do laundry out here when you are traveling on a bus every other day. T-I-A.)