So here is the start of Mozambique. We were there before Malawi...i don't know the dates, the only reason i have a clue what day of the week it is, is because of the birth control.. enjoy the post :) and keep reading
xoxo
K and A
MAPUTO
Having arrived in Maputo another shit hole of a big city, I was not happy. Swazi had been dusty and this place seemed like a city built on a sand dune. Maputo is by no means 3rd world, it just looks that way. It’s a huge bustling city…it’s just in a country that was in civil war until 1994. Once ruled by the Portuguese, the evidence is in the food, white people, as well as architecture.
Armed with good information about the taxi system from our german friend we met on the way from swazi, Alex and I and our newly acquired friends Chelsea and Paul (the Australians, that almost got left at the boarder) set out to find a taxi that didn’t ask for payment in south African rand. RAND!?!? Aren’t we in Mozambique?
We checked into Fatima’s, sharing a room with the Australian’s on the promise that Alex wouldn’t snore. We dropped our bags and were off to explore this big city. Walking around the city we stumbled about a restaurant Alex had read about. A local’s braii (BBQ) spot on the corner of Hochimin and Ave Michelle Samora, we popped in thinking we would only stop for a drink, seeing as how it was only 530pm. But as is normal in this part of the world the sun went down and it was instantly midnight dark out. The smell of the braii got to us and we caved and decided to eat dinner early.
After dinner we walked back, where I learned firsthand how Mozambiquian’s never have change. I over paid for a bag of hair bands and a small thing of tiger balm, either because the guy conned me or because he couldn’t count. Our broken Spanish was no match for his Portuguese and I gave up really only losing about 3 dollars.
Upon returning to the hostel alex grabbed the computer and proceeded to be anti-social for the next 2 hours while I phoned a mysterious women named Cristina whose number I had gotten from Sean in Swaziland. We were told that Cristina had a camp on a peninsula so that it was absolutely amazing and we had to stay there. She said she would get back to us about which days worked best for her for us to come stay out at the camp. Feeling slightly confused I figured we would figure it out eventually. I sat down to chat with Chelsea and Paul and a group of other hostel mates. WE were all chatting nicely when a brit from Liverpool named Mike started hawking the dive center he was working at in a town just south of Tofo (pronounced tofu). Mike and I got to talking and would thing lead to another, I asked if he had ever been to Honduras and dove in utila. His response yes and then he asked when we had been there….my response during the earthquake. Turns out he was in utila at the same time as us, doing his dive master training at the same shop. It also turned out that our instructor for our open water course was now teaching somewhere in northern Mozambique….what a small world. Off to bed with only light snoring from Alex.
The next day we decided to venture into the non-tourist market of Xipamanine. The market is bigger than 4 football fields, and contains everything from live goats and chickens to plumbing parts. It is the real heart of commerce for Maputo, and except for Chelsea and Paul there were no other white people. When I say market, I do not mean tile floors and flourscent lights. Don’t forget I said Maputo feels like it was built on sand dune. The ground is pressed sand, the stalls are made from rickety pieces of wood, and it smells like no one has a proper shower in weeks.
When entering a market like this, one is always a little nervous for their personal well being, especially since we had heard tales that this market was the hub for black market activity. However we found it to be quite the opposite. Alex and I stumbled upon an alcove where a woman was selling peri-peri chicken. We each got a plate and were shuffled into the hot, dark, small kitchen to eat sitting on milk crates. The food was amazing, but far too big of portions. After eating about half my plate I was too full and handed the plate back to the women cooking, feeling absouletly terrible to be wasting food, the women didn’t mind and dug right into my leftovers. We wandered the market, making our way from district to district. People kept asking me to take their picture, and at one point a woman asked to have her picture taken with Alex. Excitedly Alex ran behind her table and pretended to be selling her wares; right before I snapped the shutter this old toothless woman planted a huge kiss on Alex! We made our way out of the market hoping that we would be able to find Chelsea and Paul. Once we located them (not hard to find the white people when they are the only other 2), I excitedly told them about the live chickens and goats. They missed that part so we took the direct route back to the farm section (next to the piping section). On the way out of the market….no surprise some random guy pulled my hair. I started screaming people were laughing and I realized he was just having some fun.
Later that day, we received a mysterious text message from Cristina saying she was expecting us on Macaneta the next day, and to meet at Costa del Sol restaurant in the morning. Confused, we figured whatever we’ll figure it out; it’s all part of the adventure.
The next morning we headed out to buy some plane tickets and make our way over to the restaurant. We arrived a little early, ate lunch and sat in the sun wondering where the hell we were going. Eventually we found Cristina, along with a group of people working for the UN or an NGO, and one couple. We piled into 2 speed boats, and made our way across the bay to a peninsula that is only accessible via boat. We arrived to the peninsula around lunch time, and were presented with a huge spread of fresh fruit, prawn curry, rice, fresh bread, real butter, and every imaginable accompaniment you could imagine, satiated and happy Cristina showed us each to our rooms. The rooms are safari tents built on platforms with no electricity and no indoor plumbing, one said looks out to bay of Maputo, and the other side looks out to the Indian Ocean. Macaneta is the kind of place where all you do is walk the peninsula playing and tide pools, arriving back in time for your next meal. Needless to say the place was magical, the perfect place for a honeymoon. The big city in the distance it was a world away from anything we had ever seen. The other guests left the next day, and with a promise from Cristina that she would return the following afternoon to pick us up, we set about enjoying the camp for ourselves. The next turned out to be too rough to cross and we ended up spending an extra night in paradise….boy were we upset.
When the water was calm enough, Cristina sent the captain to pick us up. We arrived back on the main land to Cristina waiting with a mini-van and her 2 beautiful grand-daughters. We jumped in the car and were shuttled back to Cristina’s home off of avenue of some communist dictator. She had prepared for us a huge breakfast of muesli, yogurt, honey, eggs – 3 ways, meats, bread, cheese, fresh fruit, and my favorite….fresh passion fruit juice. Full and clean (with a proper hot water shower) we headed over to the Maputo Central Hospital to deal with Alex’s ear infection. Driving from building to building trying to find the right place Cristina explained the payment system – a sliding scale based on your position. As we were tourists (from America) we paid the equivalent of $15 and Alex was seen within a matter of 10 mintues, cutting the line of 30 patients. Prescription in hand we were on our way. Having a hard time shaking Crisitina and the girls we agreed to join them on their errands for the day. Running errands turned into a chauffeured tour of the city with a native Mozambiquian. Highlights included; the main train station designed by Eiffel, Voertrekker monument, a trip to the fruit market where the girls introduced us to all the delicious local fruit, Alex and the girls running races through the Hindu temple after eating the most delicious samosas, “china town”, and the only synagogue in the city. After a long day Cristina prepared us a meal of amazing peri-peri chicken and chips, we played games with the girls and passed out. The next morning we awoke at 4am to catch our 5am bus to Tofu. Before my glasses were even on I was ushered by Cristiana to the kitchen table and commanded to start chopping chilies for the fresh Peri-Peri she was making for Alex.
The bus to Tofu like every other bus in Africa was hot, over-crowded, and slow. Eventually we made it to Inhambane where we were met by Mike our Dive instructor for the Advanced open water course.
