Think of the island fling as a bonus. Today, that same meandering dance of deception and intrigue still runs right to the essence of this place. Beneath the veneer of post-independence neglect, a rich lasagna of Portuguese, Arab, Greman, then British rule waits for dicovery. Of all of them however, it was the Omani sultans who left the most tangible mark. With Zanzibar as their capital, the sultans ruled here for 200 years.
Arabesque arches clutter the narrow streets.
Then, wood carvings, astounding in their geometry. Doors thick as walls. Sooty, weathered walls - thick as baobabs. Crammed in amid the flotsam of colonial kittsch, there are battered brass teapots, trays, coins and fine ivory cake forks. In other words, turn left for the beige Formica.