Fragile thing, holiday serenity. Zanzibar has the full deck of tropical idyll cards — squeaky-white powder beaches, azure ocean, mellow trade winds and I’m trying hard to channel the sleepy, languid pace that the island operates on, but secretly I’m expecting the concierge at the Z Hotel to come bustling over to tell me they forgot to add an extra zero to our bill.
I was expecting to shell out more than £60 (about R750) a person a night for a half-board stay in a resort this stylish on the Indian Ocean. In Zanzibar, where rates of £250 (about R3100) a person are the norm, and in the case of luxury resorts such as Fundu Lagoon and Bill Gates’s favourite, Mnemba Island Lodge, as high as £600-£750 (R7 500-R9 400) a person, the Z is a snip.
This boutique pad hugging the corner of Nungwi beach on the north tip of Zanzibar is one of several recently launched hotels and lodges on the East African island that combine chic interiors with reasonable prices.
En route from the airport our driver, Osman, points out the island’s only two traffic lights, indicating that Zanzibar’s 20 years of tourism has been moving at a molasses pace. As the thatched houses peter into ramshackle huts made of lime and coral, we arrive at the hotel. A white wall leads us to a dark wooden reception area with Philippe Starck furniture and a modern art cuckoo clock. “Jambo!” comes the greeting in Swahili.
There’s pretty bird-print wallpaper, marble floors to cool our feet and Egyptian cotton sheets on pristine four-poster beds inviting a nap. But one look at the infinity pool below our window and we peel off our clothes for a swim.
With the beach directly below the hotel, we hit the sand to scout for a place for dinner. Touts are rare in Zanzibar and, with the exception of a red-eyed guy named Captain Muddy who tries to sell us a snorkelling trip (we opt for another, Padi-certified company, Spanish Dancer Divers, for about R260), we’re left to peer at sand crabs in peace.
Unimpressed by the restaurants along the beach we head back to the hotel, where manager Hafiz has a theory to explain the dearth of dining: most of the places on the sand cater for Italian tourists (that explains the ubiquity of pizza).
Instead we’re advised to go to Langi Langi, five minute’s stroll away. Lit by soft lamps and overlooking a satisfying curve of ocean, it serves zingingly fresh, expertly cooked grilled octopus and lobster tails for about R110 a main course.
Night arrives almost instantly, the moon hanging like a shiny bauble in a sky of diamonds. No wonder the Z owners, United Kingdom-based business partners Julian O’Leary and Keith O’Horen, fell in love with the place. The story goes that back when the hotel was a backpackers’ residence, the pair got so drunk on Nungwi beach they fell off their stools. Epiphany struck as they looked up at the beautiful night sky; they decided to open a boutique hotel.
A night’s kip, a morning hit of watermelon and tea and we’re sailing with Spanish Dancer to the Mnemba Atoll, where we snorkel among the flurry of stripes, neon purples, greens and pinks and spy a moray eel’s nest and a shifty-looking puffer fish. While I take a breather on the boat, a pod of five dolphins whooshes past Rob. The perfect day ends with cocktails at the hotel as the sun’s fiery yolk dips into the dark sea.
Another day we drive through the Jozani Forest, sacrificing a walk to the monkey sanctuary for more beach time, this time on the east coast, where the new Bahari View Lodge opened this year. The hotel is more traditional than the Z, with Makuti-style architecture, and our cool haven of a room has an ornately carved four-poster littered with flowers. At £42 (about R525) a person a night, it’s even kinder on the pocket. Mohammed the bartender greets us with a chilled glass of passion-fruit juice and the day passes with naps and swims. We’re too lazy to venture further than the hotel restaurant, but there we enjoy a glorious seafood platter with spiced calamari, juicy lobster and crab claws in spicy rice.
In the morning we watch the tide tug back the sea almost 15m from the coastline. At its edge, huddled figures silhouetted against the horizon harvest seaweed for export.
The island has some even cheaper, barefoot-chic options, if you sacrifice boutique design and luxuries. In Jambiani Casa del Mar has white-walled, wooden-floored cabins; between Jambiani and Paje, the new Mbuyuni Beach Village has quaint beach bungalows. In Kizimkazi Mkunguni, the new Zanzibar Dolphin Paradise has sea view villas and in Stone Town, the island’s atmospheric, historic capital, the Zenji Hotel near the harbour is funky, with a scheme to stimulate local entrepreneurship. All cost less than £25 (about R310) a night.
In Stone Town the Swahili House (from £50 a night) is our final stop — a magnificent 19th-century mansion that once belonged to Princess Salome, daughter of a sultan and a concubine who wrote a famous account of Zanzibar court life in the 1800s.
With dark wooden shutters and light-soaked central courtyards, it retains many original features, including devastatingly steep stairs. In Stone Town the streets are labyrinthine and, as we’re repeatedly nudged into side lanes by bicycles, a little disorienting. The trick is not to have a particular destination.
We meander past whitewashed buildings furnished with dainty shop boards hanging from brass hooks. There’s a lot of tourist tat — Barack Obama T-shirts waggle in the breeze — yet we see few tourists.
On our last night the call to prayer rises up from the many mosques dotting the skyline. We’re on the roof of the Swahili House with the city fanned out below, bathed in evening light. At this end point in the holiday, I’m usually depressed about leaving, facing up to the possibility of living on baked beans because I’ve blown my budget. Not today. — © Guardian News & Media 2009