Back in the 70's and 80's Mozambique wasn't in a good way. Having granted the country it's independence, the Portuguese dropped everything and ran, taking their assets and leaving the place in disarray. The new government struggled to cope and Renamo, or the "Mozambican National Resistance", wreaked havoc. There was a civil war until 1992, when a peace deal was finally struck.
After 20 or so years of peace, Renamo started taking pot shots at trucks, buses and police officers the exact same date their ceasefire ended. Using arterial roads across Mozambique at the moment therefore means traveling in military convoy. We learnt this when we were waved down by a young soldier standing in the middle of a highway. He spoke Portuguese, but we didn't. His explanation of the situation was therefore done through mime; gesturing the 'stop' signal, indicating that we should line up and ending with rapid fire pretend guns and the words "Pow! Pow! Pow!" We were in stitches. Message received.
We joined a line of trucks, cars and buses and waited 4 hours whilst the convoy assembled itself. It gave us the chance to wander the local market, grab some supplies and have impromptu Portuguese lessons with kids on the street. A lone police vehicle cut a lap down the line to check that everything was in order, when the armored tank up front took off.
Guygirlandgoat question whether lumping hundreds of the world's worst drivers in one spot, before pitching them all onto one potholed road together (in the pouring rain) could possibly be in the best interests of National Security. It was a bit like starting a jumbo supercar race, run by ice addicts, from the back of the pack. Whilst we've no doubt that the military have been working hard to make the situation safe, the thing which had us fearing for our lives was not rebels, but the frantic ducking, weaving and stopping of tightly-packed buses and semis, hell-bent on catching up the hours they'd been forced to wait. A single lane road turned to 6, or more, or less, depending on where people placed themselves in relation to the potholes. Trucks from the back quickly made their way to the front without care or caution for anything smaller than themselves.
When we were eventually cut loose from the convoy things escalated. A guy in a hurry wrapped himself around a tree. Further on, drunk soldiers with machine guns grilled us for cash (and cold drinks). It was dark, they stopped us in the middle of nowhere and we were alone. It didn't take more than seconds to figure out that they were well past professional. We took a gamble and drove off. Later, the almighty explosion of a cocounut hitting the tin roof once we were comfy in bed got the adrenalin pumping again.
Apart from thinking we were shot at when the coconut hit the roof, we crept outside that morning thinking we'd woken up in the middle of a Goosebumps film. In daylight, the hotel looked abandoned. Unkempt gardens, no water, crumbling buildings and creepy statues. It was also full of trashed amusement park rides. We honestly couldn't believe our eyes. Fascinating and a tiny bit disturbing; like all good goosebumps books. On our first night in Mozambique we'd stayed at another near-abandoned resort with no running water. Apparently rumours of civil war are bad for business.
Although it started with a tiny bit of bedlam, Mozambique was all about the beaches. They definitely impressed. Pristine swathes of sand and unbelievable blues make this country a kind of tropical paradise. Girl worked on her tan. Guy crisped up, peeled and went white again. And again. While this was going on, laughing locals went about their business; tending boats and nets, carrying giant fish about, cycling by with baskets full of lobsters, spear fishing, comandeering dhows, collecting shells or offering up their catch daily. Giant prawns and beachside barbeques have never been so good.
Knowing that too much of a good thing isn't good for you, we mixed up the beaches with a few little asides. Gorongosa National Park being one. Self-drive safaris weren't allowed, so we teamed up with a pair of guides and hit the roads in a jeep for a day. No park has revealed more antelope than that one. We also came across lion cubs, elephants and some seriously hideous birds. We'd love to share some pictures with you, but the camera had no memory card in it that day. Oops. (Google marabou stork to get the idea).
Another interesting amble was our hunt for Manyikeni; ancient ruins that no one had heard of. They were mentioned in an old guidebook . Instructions as follows: "50km inland. Turn right at x town. Drive for about 10km. Turn north along unmarked dirt track for about 5km. Difficult to find without a guide". We didn't have a guide, but it sounded like an adventure. It was. Looking carefully for the track going north, we came upon a strange shape on the roadside. Someone had made a scarecrow or some kind of life-size doll, complete with a skull, hanging on a stake. We figured we were on the right track. Eventually that track ended though. We pushed on through the bushes and did indeed find Manyikeni. Age has most definitely wearied this pile of rubble. You'd need a fantastic imagination to piece it all together, even if you could read the Portuguese signage. We went back to the beaches.
At Morrungulo we camped in the forest surrounded by frogs and didn't see anyone else for days. At Zavora, untouched sand dunes rolled into the sea and countless crabs skittered everywhere. At Tofo we went searching for whale sharks on an 'ocean safari', though we weren't lucky enough to spot any. At Vilanculos we set out to see some islands. The Bazarutu Archipelago is a stunning spot for those who can afford the $1200 a night price tag. We couldn't, but luckily for us there were plenty of guys with boats, willing to run us over to the islands for a much smaller fee. Guy spotted a dugong, we snorkelled for corals and we hiked in the dunes - both crisping up and shedding skin after that scenic little day trip.
At Quissico a good bunch of people gathered on the shores of a lake to hike, camp, cook and chat for half a week of sun and fun. It was a bit like a pre-Christmas celebration. We laughed, swam, ate, drank and baked by the fire. We walked, we talked and we made new friends. A few days later but a few days too soon, all six of us bundled into cars and drove to town - in our case, complete with a Belgian and a gopro stuck on the roof. A few quick snapshots, a few final tips and we all parted ways for different spots on the continent. Some north, some west. For guygirlandgoat, this meant farewelling Mozambique. We turned inland for the final time.
Up next: The Kingdom of Swaziland