Our whole trip, we had relied on borrowing people's alarm clocks (Thanks Angela and Mike!) and our wonderful human alarm clocks (Thank you Marcuz, Fabian, Andrew and Mr. Bean!). This proved to be a problem on the last day when none of these awesome people ended up on the island with us. Luckily, we were woken up by the morning call to prayer at a nearby mosque. Bleary-eyed and confused, it took us a good ten minutes to figure out that we were about to miss our ferry. We made a mad dash for the wharf, getting through immigration with just enough time to get past the ridiculously-mean ticketing agent and board the ferry back to Zanzibar. A ferry ride that, due to the storm rolling in, had me so ridiculously motion sick all I could do was close my eyes and thank god I had not eaten in the past ten hours. To add insult to injury, after a brief video on the history and colonization of Zanzibar, which I found quite interesting, we were again graced with two hours of the same Mr. Bean movie we had seen on the plane. I know. I'm just as stymied as you are. How is it possible that Tanzanians love Mr. Bean so much? Moreover, do Tanzanians think he is a good representation of all British people? I shall have to remember to ask next time.