I guess if you're going to celebrate your 500th posting then this is about as good a topic as you could imagine. Yesterday I made my way back from a week in Zanzibar, Tanzania. The trip back was exhausting, especially considering that it began with me throwing up for the first time in almost twenty-five years. The natural supposition would be that I picked up some dreaded African bug, but instead it was my utter idiocy of taking Doxycyline (my anti-malarial medicine) and Panadol (the Middle Eastern version of Advil) on an empty stomach. Doh! After clearing my stomach I launched an eighteen hour trip that took me from Zanzibar to Dar es Salaam to Nairobi to Doha to Abu Dhabi, which was not as romantic as it sounds; the high point was sitting in a coffeeshop in the Dar es Salaam airport, counting the cockroaches on the wall and wondering why all the Chinese guys were pounding beers at 9:00 in the morning (probably to prepare them for all the wine they had on the plane). I'm opening up with the exhausting part of the journey to explain why I'm just too tired (and busy getting back to work) to go into details on the time spent in Zanzibar. It was magical; truthfully, I can't think of a better way to describe it. My great friend Trish has always waxed poetic about Zanzibar and identified it as her favorite place on the planet, and she, as usual, didn't steer me wrong. Doubtless this blog will be dominated by Zanzibar for the near future. I swam with dolphins in the open ocean. I mean really, come on. As my good friend Sarah Cohen loves to opine, "Do you know who has your life? Nobody has your life!"
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