"Where Do I Begin, To Tell The Story Of How Great A Trip Can Be?"

.....Well, how about beginning with how my so-called Zanzi-buddy Ron "accidentally" managed to take 3 close-up pictures of my below the waist "problem areas" as I walked in front of him on Kendwa Beach one morning??

I know, it's been almost 2 weeks now since that incident went down, and I should be over it. Actually, those frightful images, and a close brush with botulism from some tainted Tuna sashimi, were the only two blemishes on one of the most perfect vacations of my entire life. So I guess I can forgive Ron's momentary lapse into photographic sadism.

(Once again, don't even PLAY like you're going to ask to see those damning cellulite celluloids. It ain't gonna happen.)

Zanzibar is just an amazing, amazing place. Maybe it's the collision of cultures (Arab, Asian, African and a smattering of European) that makes it so unique. I'm still trying to put my finger on what makes it so relentlessly quaint and magical; perhaps the peeling, faded buildings in Stone Town that would be considered urban blight in Baltimore but which seem to house a million secrets. Maybe it's the mysterious dhow sail boats that dart across the horizon when you least expect, their white sails billowing like puffy Pillsbury biscuits with pointy pinched ends. Maybe it's the Muslim influence, with the women and tiny little girls in their full headdress and gowns.

But for me, the best part of the trip was getting to spend some time with Ron. Twenty-five years ago, when we met as interns at the Washington Post, I couldn't have dreamed we'd still be friends, and that we'd go off on an amazing vacation to a magical island together. Life can toss in some really lovely gifts amidst the sturm and drang, and Ron's friendship has definitely been one of them.

Anyhoo, I know I've been off my feed with the blog, but it takes time and effort to work through a massive overdose of Zanzi-bliss, and that's what I've been doing since I got back to Nairobi. I'll share bits and pieces of the experience along the way, as I get back into my blogging groove.

But before I do, I must clear up one outstanding matter. Several people have queried me about Ron, and even chided me for "holding out" on them about the new man in my life. Indeed, looking at the photo above, it might appear that Ron and I are an item of sorts (though I would never consider dating a man willing to be photographed wearing a cap stolen from Gilligan's footlocker). However, as I've already mentioned on my Facebook page, Ron is a dear FRIEND, nothing more. I did not exhale, or get my groove back, during that idyllic Zanzibar vacation.

Keep hope alive for a sista, okay?