Finding Serenity in Northwest Pemba: A Lesson in Spontaneity and Simple Living
I slept surprisingly well-or more accurately, I passed out. When I woke up under the wooden shack and unzipped the tent, I noticed the guys were gone. The room was clean, the TV was off, and dawn had already broken. It was incredible; I still couldn’t quite figure out how everything had worked out so perfectly yesterday. I was grateful. We both were.
It’s funny how the most epic adventures can sometimes start from the simplest moments-a quiet dawn under a wooden shack, with nothing but the promise of a new day.
The day lay ahead, and while we were in the right area, we weren’t exactly in the ideal spot yet. Watching the sunset over the ocean the previous evening had confirmed our decision to head to the northwest of the island. While I love the beauty of a sunrise over water, there’s something magical about a sunset. Sunsets, like chapters in a well-worn travel book, mark the end of one adventure and the promise of another-each one a fleeting masterpiece painted on the canvas of the sky. And what’s better than watching it over the Zanzibar Channel? at this point It’s wide enough to feel like the entire Indian Ocean stretches before you.
Our goal for the day was a simple one. To find a place to camp or stay for the next few days -on the beach.- Exploring during daylight, without the pressure of the fading sun, made everything easier. But first, we needed some provisions for breakfast. The local village, where we had originally gotten off the minibus yesterday, had a small shop-just like every village around the world. The simplicity of buying fresh bread and water from a small village shop felt almost as rewarding as discovering a hidden gem on a faraway island-sometimes, it’s the little victories that make you feel like a millionaire (even if you are already on that faraway island. (I’ve had this feeling a lot recently.) It didn’t take long before we’d consumed our second fruit juice and were ready to go. Llife can be incredibly simple sometimes.
Having already visited the beach last night to see the famous underwater room, we decided today to walk along the shoreline to see if any other accommodations were available. We tried three different hotels: one was definitely out of our budget, another was closed, and the third looked abandoned. We wandered around the property and up to the main road, but no one was there. As I walked back toward the beach, I saw a man sitting on his deck. He was from Oman, and this was his house. Curious about our plans, I explained our situation. He mentioned we could have camped in his garden, but he was heading back to Oman that afternoon. However, he suggested the property next door might be able to help, as he was providing them with water because their pump was broken.
Isn’t it curious how the world works? One moment, you’re searching for a place to rest, and the next, a stranger offers you his garden as if extending the universe itself.
We made our way to the next property and found three guys sitting around, clearly caught off guard by our arrival. I explained what the man from Oman had said. One of them mentioned they had a room with a fan. It felt like discovering a treasure chest in the most unlikely place-an old room with antique charm and two big double beds, a stark contrast to the world outside, where the sea never stopped moving and neither did we. The room was perfect. More so as it had a decent fan. As we walked out to the back of the property and onto the rustic beach, he mentioned they wouldn’t have any water later that afternoon. The room was normally $20 per night for both of us, but with no water, it would be $10. Just then, the man from Oman appeared again, asking what we thought. Before I could answer, he said he could leave the water on if we wanted to stay. I could hardly believe our luck! Under my breath, I said, “Oh my god,” and quickly agreed, “Deal-$10 per night, and we’ll stay for a few days.” I mean, $5 each per night!
To put this in perspective, the underwater room we saw last night would have cost $1500 per night, and the other places we’d seen during the day were over $120 per night. It’s fascinating how luxury can be so elusive and yet, serenity can be found in the simplest, most unexpected places-like a room by the sea for a fraction of the price, or the peace that settles in your heart when you realise you’ve got all you need.
We dropped our bags and settled in, thanking the man from Oman. Whats more we’d struck a deal that was more than the room: the guys would cook for us and prepare whatever food we wanted. We suggested doing it family-style-they would cook, and we’d all eat together. and if we needed to go in to town they would take us.
The man running the place wore a Manchester City football shirt, and I asked if he liked football. He laughed and, in broken English, said he loved football and Manchester. He was the manager of the hotel building, and while he had no guests at the moment, he wasn’t bothered. The two guys working with him were also very accommodating. I still don’t know how they market this place because it wasnt on Google any booking site and so there was no way anyone would just stumble upon it-it was so off the beaten path.
And that’s where the adventure truly began.
As the manager talked about football, two fishermen emerged from the sea with freshly caught fish and two octopuses. They asked if we wanted them. Their offer was as generous as the ocean itself- and so, that afternoon we had meal for five which was fit for royalty and cost less than $6. Okay maybe it was closer to $7 because we needed some rice.
Later in the afternoon, we settled into the routine that would suit us for the rest of our stay. We’d go for long beach walks to a cove, lighthouse, or some other hidden spot, stopping in local villages, talking to the locals, and just exploring what the universe provided. Each step along the shoreline was like turning a new page in a story we didn’t know the ending to-a tale of curiosity, trust, and the small wonders that make up the fabric of our lives. And if we got hungry or thirsty then there always appeared to be a little village on the horizon. A village that had itself a tiny shop selling fresh fruit or whatever it was that the locals ate.
As the sun began to set we’d return, gather firewood and shower as the cooks prepared the evening meal of the worlds freshest fish. Once we were fed, we would load the fire up with more wood and take turns sharing stories, thoughts, and ideas, or simply listen to the crackling wood as meteors streaked across the Milky Way overhead. It was simply incredible.
As we sat by the fire, feeling the warmth on our faces and gazing up at the vastness of the night sky, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. It’s remarkable how the grandeur of the cosmos can mirror the simplicity of a shared meal, both reminding us that in a universe so expansive, the moments of connection are what make us feel at home.we are just people made of star dust.
Sometimes, the best adventures are the ones you don’t plan. They’re the ones where you just let go, trust the journey, and embrace whatever comes your way. It’s in these unplanned moments-between the setting sun and the rising moon-that we find a rare kind of serenity, the kind that comes from simply living, from trusting that wherever you are is exactly where you’re meant to be.
