It was really difficult to pull myself away the Nkhata Bay. Each night we packed up ready to leave and each morning we decided to stay an extra day so we could just stay by the lake. The Lake seemed to have this captivating quality which doesn't let you go. After realising that we were now into September we had to make a move to Tanzania. The journey took 2 and a half days to reach Zanzibar and even though I am an experienced traveller. That journey was TOUGH! We left Nkhata Bay by taxi for the hour ride to Mzuzu, changed to a minibus which was designed to seat 12 and was overloaded at one point by 24! People were literally on top of each other, chickens, babies, sacks of grain and water containers beneath our feet meant our knees were up to our chins. The roof was so low we had to c*** our heads and this journey lasted 6 hours! I still have no idea how we coped.

We finally got to the border and got scammed out of £25 by a sneaky hand trick that they have probably used on tourists over and over again. By this point it was dusk, the worst time to be travelling in Africa. However we still needed to get two hours down the road. We got to the bus station and encountered an army of aggressive men grabbing our arms and seizing our backpacks trying to put us on their buses. It didn't matter where we were going they just wanted to fill up the seat so their bus could leave. After a struggle to get ourselves on the right bus, we were off, still filling more and more people into the already over loaded bus. Suddenly we stopped in the middle of nowhere, told the bus we were using was broken and then ordered onto another bus and pushed to the back. We had no idea if our luggage even made it on to the next bus! We spent an agonising hour thinking of all the things we had potentially lost from our bags, expecting in the furore, that our bags had been stolen. By some miracle when we arrived in Mbeya, some kind decent person had put all our bags on the bus.

After spending just 5 hours in a rest stop hotel we were up at 4am to catch the bus to Dar es Salaam. We were then scammed again out of about £25 as a tout overcharged us and then stole money while he was counting and demanding more. By this time, I was furious and hated Tanzania. Ever since we stepped foot out of Malawi we had been ripped off left, right and centre. A young student was sitting on the bus next to me and I whinged and whined to him for at least an hour while he personally apologised for the nasty 1% of people in his country. He was lovely, his name was Chengwe and he studied environmental science, he was going to Dar for a job interview. After chatting with him for the whole duration of the 12 hour journey, he restored my faith in Tanzania. Our bus also drove through national parks so we got to see a whole family of elephants, zebra and antelopes right from our bus. We stopped at a rest stop for lunch and had the best food I've had on the trip since leaving South Africa. Tanzania has a mixed history of Persian, Arab, Indian, Italian, German, Portuguese and British occupations and trading partners so the food has an eclectic mix of flavours.

As we headed into Dar es Salaams central bus station we grouped together for a usual game plan of how to get our luggage off the bus without a vulture like taxi driver snapping it up and how to avoid the other hyena like touts offering their overpriced services to get into town. Chengwe, helped us find a taxi and we were completely surprised how chilled out the bus station was. We met an Israeli girl who broke down in tears at Dar's bus station because she said it was so stressful. We got our bags just fine and didn't have to fight off any touts. We headed to the harbour to buy our boat tickets to Zanzibar, again expecting to be mauled over by the touts as we had heard horror stories. But again, we only encountered calm and respectful people. Dar looked more like a cross between Mumbai and a Middle Eastern city. I don't think I've ever seen more of a multicultural city in the South. Bantu Africans, Africans from Somalia, Indians, Arabs and Europeans seemed to be in equal numbers. After the worst few days of travelling we had ever had we decided to leave backpacker land for a few hours and have dinner at the Hyatt! I had red wine and sun-dried tomoto pasta with REAL PARMASAN! A bit of luxury was defiantly needed after over 3 weeks of cold showers and roughing it.

Waking up early the next day we headed to the port to catch the ferry to Zanzibar. The ferry was gorgeous, wind in our hair and enough room to swing two cats! After the trauma of the buses this was by far the best mode of transport yet. We sailed past bustling fish markets, tiny colourful boats, dhows and cargo ships from all over the world, many from Monrovia. We got our first sight of the picture perfect beaches which were just like the photos, bright turquoise waters gently lapping the blinding snow white beaches. Sailing into Stone Town, the main city in Zanzibar, was magical. Old Portuguese stone fortresses, mosque minarets towering above Cathedrals and crumbling, once brightly coloured Arabic and Indian style residences. We met another nice Rasta who helped us get transport to the south side of the island where we would be making our first stop in Zanzibar. Driving through Stone Town was a shock to every sense, much like India (but minus the hassle). Women in colourful burkas carried equally colourful woven palm baskets atop their heads, men in colourful fez like hats bartered over spices and meat, while ox drawn carts brought fresh fish into the markets.

Paje on the South East Coast, is the main budget accommodation option after Kendwe in the North. Asking the advice of the Rastas, Indians and Arabs on the ferry from Dar all confirmed that the beach in the North is better and the tidal patterns mean one can swim all day, the Southern beaches are quieter and less developed. Paje is also one of the best kite-surfing holiday destinations in Africa, where tanned, gorgeous enthusiasts would come to spend summer months skimming, twirling and flipping over the turquoise waters. We were dropped off at Teddy's Place which the Lonely Planet described as THE place to stay in Paje. Upon arrival it was dead with only a handful of backpackers chilling out on the embroidered Indian cushions and swinging in hammocks. However, next door we found "New Teddy's", which was all booked up and had a melee of people sitting around the bar chatting. We were then told by long term residents, that the Teddy's we were staying at had deteriorated over the past months after the German owner got pissed off with the Zanzibarian manager. In his anger, he stole all of the money, took over the website and built "New Teddy's" right next door. So the Zanzibar owner is struggling to keep his business afloat while the fat cat German is raking it in! I'm glad we stayed at the old place and didn't support the thieving ex-owner.

We passed the days in Paje relaxing on the beach, walking up and down the powdery white sand, watching the kite surfers, and making friends with the usual backpackers and volunteers each with their own amazing stories. As usual, Mom had picked up some "stray dogs" i.e. backpackers who were living off peanuts. We went out to dinner on the last night to a lovely little place called Paje by Night. In tow were two medical students, one from London and other French, two Germans who had volunteered in Kenya for a year and now on their holiday and another med student from Tasmania. The reaction that we've got so far that we are on a family holiday backpacking in Africa is one of amusement. Most travellers can't get over I'm travelling with my mom until they meet her and all think she's the coolest Mom they've ever met. Everyone seems to wish their parents would want to backpack with them but obviously most people would think spending 15 hours on packed buses to get from one place to the next is ones idea of hell!