New Year's Eve, Heathrow Airport: Not a soul in sight, save for the occasional assault from drunken revellers passing through Terminal Four. I'm cold and miserable and wondering what on earth possessed me to book a flight leaving London at four in the morning on New Year's Day.

My flight is not much better. I am saddled - or crammed, rather - into a seat next to the most humongous woman in the history of mankind. Her bulk oozes out from under our shared armrest and invades, then conquers about a third of my small economy-class territory. Two stops and 16 hours later, I find myself in Dar Es Salaam, rapidly removing my extra layers of clothing.

My destination is a 37-foot yacht in the Dar Es Salaam Yacht Club called "Jenain", where I know a cold beer and my sister await me. After a friendly encounter with a throng of eager taxi-drivers shouting "Jambo!" ("Hello!"), I am firmly ensconced in a rust-encrusted 4X4 and speeding off through the flooded city streets, knee-deep in muddy water from a recent downpour. The derelict vibrancy of hand-painted billboards and shop-fronts drive the point home: ah, at last, I am back in Africa!

I pitch at the yacht club and am helped by friendly folks into a tiny ferry, which carries me, bare feet trailing in the water, to the boat - my home for the next month. A cold Tusker beer is quickly dispensed, amid warm welcomes from my sister Jenni, then our captain and the skipper. Soon enough I drift to sleep on the deck, the night sky my blanket and a million blinking stars my night-lights.

The sun wakes us with a kiss as it once more begins its slow climb into the sky. With not a moment of daylight to lose, all hands are on deck. The anchor is wrenched up, sails are set flying and we head into the open sea.

Never having sailed before, we are taught what's what in sailing terminology. I also get a rudimentary lesson in navigation, the workings of a GPS system, and how to read and plot a course on a chart. We are heading for Zanzibar, a spice island just north of Dar Es Salaam. Sailing there takes about eight hours, and I get my first taste of what it is like to have sea around me in every which way. The wind blows gently, the land slowly disappears from view and a school of dolphins play in the wake left by the yacht's bow. Our captain tells us it is extremely lucky to see dolphins on one's first voyage at sea. I have the most enormous sense of well-being and oneness with the world.

Jenni, however, is not in the grip of such an ethereal mood. She is unceremoniously seasick and losing her breakfast off the back of the boat.

We are trailing a fishing line behind us, and hook a sizeable catch for dinner. I am not entirely convinced of Jenni's innocence in procuring our dinner, but I enjoy the meal nevertheless. Once safely anchored in Zanzibar, we roast our fish and affectionately christen it "Roasted Ralph"!

Zanzibar

The next day we set off to explore Zanzibar. What an awe-inspiring place! To get into town we catch a 'dala-dala', as the local taxis are known in Tanzania. Essentially, it's a mini pickup truck on which the rear part has been converted. There are wooden seats, a small canopy for shade and speakers for blaring music. Each dala-dala has a driver, as well as a man whose job it is to collect money and to tell the driver when to stop to pick people up or to let them off.

He does this all while hanging off the back of the truck using one arm. The other arm holds a spanner, screwdriver or other metal object which he thumps on the roof in some code, which the driver sitting in front can hear and understand.

There is always room for one more passenger, and chickens and babies ride for free. In Stone Town, the main market place on Zanzibar, the streets are too narrow for a dala-dala to pass through, so most people ride Vespers, all of which are in varying stages of decrepitude. Since there are no stop signs or traffic lights, drivers honk their horns before intersections and corners to warn other drivers and pedestrians that they are coming. The result is a bit of a honking frenzy, but somehow the whole system works well!

Questions?
If you want more information about this area you can email the author or check out our Africa Insiders page.