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MisoziMarch 26, 2017May 19, 2017Leave a comment

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Zanzibar. Even the name itself is exotic. But be that as it may, there is nothing that could have prepared me for the experience of actually being there. What little I have seen of it so far- Stone Town -is absolutely exquisite. Right from its people, a sun-kissed dark chocolate brown skinned people, to its architecture- the labyrinth of winding walkways that you could blissfully be lost in for hours! From its culture-the beautiful henna designs & Sirgo scrubs -to its intricate designs on each door. It all this and more that has a storybook quality, whisking you away to a long ago time when Sultans ruled and black people were sold as slaves. That shatters the picture of romance a bit for you, doesn’t it? But that’s exactly Zanzibar. A tale of beauty and fragrant spices that infuse the very air you breathe. A unique blend of Africa, Persia and Indian influences that come together in a heady bittersweet mix that leaves dizzy on life. You will laugh and you will cry. And hopefully, have a drink and eat delicious seafood each evening in Forodhani Park. Then go to bed, heart full of joy in a room designed with a touch of enchantment. Seriously. I am convinced that my room at the Seyyida Hotel & Spa had magic sprinkled all over. I slept peacefully, feeling every inch a guest of the royal family that the hotel is named after. #solofemaletraveler #zanzibar #tanzania #worldnomads #doughnutshapedheart

My latest obsession! #hennatattoos #stonetown #Zanzibar #solotravel #solofemaletraveler #Travel #africa #doughnutshapedheart

Victoria Falls, Zambia

Barefoot For this surely is holy ground Tentative steps into the glorious mist Eyes transfixed by beauty Mosi o tunya! The smoke that thunders ! #mosiotunya #livingstone #victoriafalls #worldnomads #zambiatourism #Zambia#knifeedgebringe #travel

My dear Nameless, Hormones are messing me up. I feel fragile and constantly on the verge of tears. I want cake, comfort, food, and hugs - which I am afraid to go to any of my friends for because while they may be elderly, understanding, and ‘just a little portly’ (excellent for teddy bear hugs by the way) –they are also male! Not only male but Madalas. Who are they? They are a bunch of friends who have all become my friends. I keep them young with youthful banter and a fresh take on life, while they age me with cynicism and make me financially wiser. Seems like a fair trade-off. No? The first one I met of the lot is an introverted, closet intellectual slash philosopher and art lover guised as a reckless “f*@# about” (not my words) who still hasn’t figured out his life at the grand old age of 43. But that’s all a ruse. The truth is far worse. This guy is the consummate bachelor, an absolute connoisseur of life if you can think it- looks no older than 35 and has a “devil may care’ attitude that makes him wildly irresistible. Point to note: the Mandalas are all 43 years old, and were classmates at some point or another - with the exclusion of the older brothers who are occasionally part of the gang for birthdays and such events when they must all convene at Marlin Restaurant. Where else would you find old money? Anyway, these are my friends. People whose regrets and triumphs serve as beacons of light along the path that is my life. It doesn’t make sense to a lot of people. But I love these guys to bits. Albeit at a very necessary arm’s length. P.s MADALA NOUN Zulu An old man; an ‘old one’. Frequently as a term of somewhat affectionate or respectful address, especially to an elderly black man. #doughnutshapedheart

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