[STORY] ‘5 Days in Zanzibar With My Boyfriend

Two weeks ago, I booked a flight I wasn’t supposed to take.

No — I wasn’t running away from heartbreak or a toxic job.

I was just tired. Burnt out. Every day felt like an endless scroll of emails, deadlines, and “Let’s circle back next week” messages. I needed an escape — a real one.

I opened my travel app, searched “cheapest flights near me,” and boom — Zanzibar.

I didn’t even think twice. Clicked “Book Now,” threw my essentials in a backpack, grabbed my passport, and told myself, “If I regret this, I’ll at least regret it with an ocean view.”

The island air hit me the moment I stepped out of the airport — humid, salty, alive. The kind that made your skin glisten even when you weren’t sweating.

A taxi driver with the widest smile waved a sign that said “LAWRENCE.” (I hadn’t even used my real name to book — I used “L.G” — so I already knew this trip had started weird.)

“You’re here for work or pleasure?” he asked.

“Hopefully both,” I replied. “I’m a content creator… kind of.”

He laughed. “Everyone who comes here says that.”

At my beachfront hostel in Paje, I met Maya — the kind of girl who looked like she was born to be a travel influencer. Big camera, messy bun, and a tattoo that said “Stay Wild.”

She walked up to me while I was struggling to open a coconut (with a spoon).

“Need help?” she asked, amused.

“Yes, before I accidentally break my wrist.”

She took the coconut, slammed it against a wooden table twice, and handed it back like a pro.

“First time solo traveling?” she asked.

“Is it that obvious?”

She smiled. “Only to those who’ve been there.”

That’s how we became travel partners for the next four days — exploring stone towns, snorkeling near Mnemba Island, getting lost in spice markets, and sharing deep talks under palm trees about dreams, burnout, and the fear of not having life figured out.

On the fifth day, Maya asked if I could help her film a “Travel Vlog for YouTube.”

We spent hours capturing drone shots, slow-motion beach walks, and those “spontaneous laughs” influencers somehow rehearse.

That night, as I scrolled through my phone on the balcony, I saw her face — live on Instagram — without me.

“MayaTravels: ‘5 Days in Zanzibar With My Boyfriend  #CouplesTravelGoals’”

Boyfriend.

I stared at my phone for a solid minute, confused, half-laughing, half-stunned. She wasn’t talking about me, but the captions and clips made it look like she was.

The internet was already shipping us — comments like “You guys are so cute together!” and “Couples who travel together stay together.”

I texted her:

“You forgot to mention your actual boyfriend.”

She replied:

“Relax, it’s just marketing. People love a romantic story. You got great engagement too.”

That was the moment I realized — I wasn’t just on a vacation; I had unknowingly become a character in someone else’s travel content strategy.

The next morning, I packed my bag quietly. She noticed.

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think my vacation’s over.”

She tilted her head, smirked. “Don’t take it personal, it’s just content.”

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile. “But not everyone wants to be clickbait.”

On the flight back, I couldn’t stop thinking about how modern travel had become less about experience and more about aesthetic.

But then I smiled — because in between the fake shots and captions, I had still found something real: peace.

No Wi-Fi. No deadlines. Just the sound of waves and the reminder that sometimes, getting lost is the best way to find yourself.

When I got home, I made my own video titled:

“The Vacation I Never Planned — and the Girl Who Turned It Into Content.”

It didn’t go viral. But it was real.

And that felt good enough.