MANILA, Philippines - Zanzibar is where we would end our African adventure our month long honeymoon that began a few weeks ago transiting through almost half a dozen airports traversing the world. I just felt it would be so out of the “environmental context” we had been in the weeks prior, having spent days in the Masai Mara, Lake Manyara and the Ngrongoro Crater as well as trekking through Kilimanjaro.
Zanzibar... I mean the name itself resonates with exoticism — it is the great trading post of yore and the crossroads that linked Africa, India and Arabia for centuries prior to the modern era. Truth be told, from exiting the airport and spending a mere few minutes being whisked into the guts of Stone Town, it was “in the air” so to speak that this was a completely different Tanzania; palm trees proliferated the city and the breeze was filled with the salt of the sea. In fact, the demeanor of the people was palpably different. Africa is enormous. And just Tanzania is gigantic, and moving from Ngorongoro to Zanzibar underscored this immensity.
We were met promptly at Zanzibar International Airport by an &Beyond representative — the top end company, apparently majority owned by the famed Getty family of the USA, which booked our entire African leg. But I had decided on trying out a non-&Beyond owned property, but still made bookings through &Beyond. As I said in my previous article, I have been looking at Tanzania for many years and being an avid collector of Lonely Planet guides I paid special attention to guide books involving Africa, East Africa and of course Tanzania.
Over all those years a peculiar hotel, represented as a “top end” boutique establishment previously known as Emerson & Green and currently known as 236 Hurumzi had certainly piqued my interest with the glowing write-ups and reviews about it in the respectable Lonely Planet. In a 2009 edition the Lonely Planet describes 236 Hurumzi as a “Zanzibar institution (that is in) two adjacent historic buildings that have been completely restored along the lines of an Arabian Nights fantasy, and are full of character. Each room is unique... and all are decadently decorated to give you an idea of what Zanzibar must have been like in its heyday.” In fact, now looking back at the 2007 Africa edition of the Lonely Planet I see that the text is virtually unchanged even though they at least changed the name from Emerson & Green to 236 Hurumzi, with the odd exception of adding the phrase “definitely worth the splurge” in place of the bit about the Arabian Nights.
Well I have actually read the One Thousand and One Nights, the centuries-old compilation of Arabic folklore compiled during the Islamic Golden Age, which is often referred to as the Arabian Nights since its first English language translation in 1706. And I was on my honeymoon and I was pretty steadfast about creating my own Arabian fantasy and I certainly, after booking through &Beyond, not worried about “a splurge.”
But unfortunately 236 Hurumzi is nothing like the fabled Arabian Nights, but it certainly was an unnecessary splurge.
First off, you cannot even reach it by vehicle even if it is located in the city. I would think that it is not too much to ask that your taxi can take you directly to your city hotel. Instead you are dropped off a few treacherous blocks from the “hotel” and must meander through squalid looking corridors and finally reach a virtual hole in the wall.
Still there was hope. You never know. It could be the secret entrance to the fantastical world of Scheherazade in a macabre disguise.
Alas no. Our room, amazingly given the glorious epochal name — The Blue Room — was as filthy as the foyer, which like a sponge absorbed the squalid crud from the meandering sewer like corridors outside. And as for the promise of rooms being decorated decadently or even as described in &Beyond’s itinerary presented to us upon arrival weeks ago in Nairobi with “charming bathtubs” — this was worse than hyperbole. This was purely false unless there were some serious typos: decorated “disgustingly” not “decadently” and “charred” not “charming” bathtubs.
Some erstwhile reviewers on TripAdvisor.com have written that the rooms are decorated with antiques, but I truly believe that dusty old things do not necessarily merit the title or distinction “antique” which I believe would be the equivalent of the difference between a proper antique shop and a junk shop or on another level Sotheby’s versus Storage Wars.
When we were escorted to The Blue Room by our “valets” we were shocked to find that the air-conditioning unit was barely functional or rather merely blew surfeit quantities of dust around. More shocking was that there were no curtains in the room which had humongous windows that the sun shown gloriously through. More shocking still was that a street brawl erupted, almost on horrific cue as we entered our “suite.” And adding further rock salt and red ants to open wounds the “valets” instead of sheepishly apologizing for the noise, stuck their heads out of the windows and cheered the street fighters on!
It became darkly clear that there would be no Arabian Nights for me in 236 Hurumzi.
We had four days left in Tanzania. And despite the unrecoverable expense on 236 Hurumzi — we were charged over US$800 for three nights in this ornate hovel — we decided as Mr. and Mrs. Go to perhaps take the loss and find calmer living quarters. For the same charge — and we were walk-in guests — we were lucky enough to get a lovely room at the Zanzibar Serena Inn for virtually the same price. We at least survived happily, although not without the loss of my iPhone, which “disappeared” when I recovered our luggage at 236 Hurumzi.
Mystically, and perhaps that is the only exotic and esoteric thing about 236 Hurumzi, is that when I went back to tell the hotel receptionist that we would not be returning and that could he have his valets kindly retrieve our bags and put them in a pedicab that I had hired, my iPhone, which I had left for moments on the receptionist’s counter, mysteriously disappeared. There were only four people in the lobby at the time: myself, the receptionist and two valets.
Thankfully the Zanzibar Serena Inn was a decent hotel, giving Happee and I a restful end to our African adventure. And despite the debacle I was pleased that I was prescient enough to schedule about a week at The Atlantis in Dubai.
I was invited months prior by a top promoter to attend the album launch of NerveCell, a death metal band out of the United Arab Emirates, which we had on the bill of PULP SUMMER SLAM 11 supporting Anthrax and who also recently supported fellow Big Four titans Metallica. I was put up at The Atlantis, and when Happee learned I was staying there she made her desire clear that she wanted to stay at that hotel as well.
In a word, Dubai was astonishing, especially after almost a month in Africa. The economic thunder of black gold has created a marvel in the Middle East, specifically in Dubai. If you have the means, and you love travel, you must go. Dubai provides the true modern day Arabian Nights, and The Atlantis, despite its almost Disneyland cum Indian Jones grandeur is nothing short of that. It is a splash of contemporary brilliance that has something for all ages — a true nexus of modern humanity.
The restaurants in The Atlantis, particularly Nobu and Ossiano, are spectacular, not only in terms of the absolute high quality cuisine available but also the entire dining structure. Nobu consistently — we ate there three times — serves the most awesome gindara, I would wager, in the entire Middle East. It also has quite a sake list! Yum. Ossiano is where we truly splurged, with a full degustation menu with wine pairings; and the atmosphere with a floor to ceiling view of the central aquarium — which is gigantic mind you — was simply out of this world.
But in the final honeymoon analyses, there is certainly nothing like shopping to take away the pains of a week in Kilimanjaro and a “Zanzibarian” debacle. Over 150 hours of shopping versus over 150 hours in the mountains — sounds like a good deal to me.