Clove on the air, carved doors, and a tide chart instead of a timetable.
Stone Town is a lesson in shade. You learn the alleys by their smells: frying, sewage, perfume, the sea. I bought cardamom I did not need and a door-knocker I could not carry.
The east coast in the afternoon
The hotel on the east was a study in doing less. High tide erased the sandbar; low tide returned a kilometre of walking. I read nothing and watched dhows become geometry.
Culinary note: octopus, coconut, a chilli that does not announce itself until too late. I wrote the recipe badly on purpose.