mozambique: journal

chimoio - 19th january

we were looking forward to the pristine white beaches, the warm indian ocean, diving with whale sharks, and some sunshine. but first we had to get there. from malawi it's a long drive down to vilankulos. we knew we couldn't make it in one day so we decided to overnight in chimoio, a small town not too far from the zimbabwean border. after leaving malawi the landscape flattened, at intervals small wood and thatch communities appeared alongside the road but there was little else to break the monotony of the driving. the road was in surprisingly good condition, with the exception of one stretch of pot holes that peppered the tarmac so thoroughly that no amount of swerving could avoid them all.

 
standard housing, tete corridor

on reaching the outskirts of chimoio, for the second time in three days a tyre blew on us. using our last spare we changed the wheel and found the guest house. as much as we wanted to relax and drink a cold beer we knew we had to venture into town as we needed money, food and patches to fix two flat tyres. we managed to sort all of the above with relative ease, however on returning to the land rover parked in the shoprite car park, we found the vehicle listing at a strange angle. to our dismay the tyre of the wheel recently replaced had also deflated. with no spares left, we drove very slowly back to the guest house, the tyre revolving on the rim. perhaps we wouldn't be making it to the beach the next day.

vilankulos - 21st january

vilankulos is the gateway to the bazaruto archipelago; a chain of low-lying tropical islands, separated from the coast by shifting sandbars and turquoise channels, and surrounded by coral reefs renowned for world class diving and snorkelling. predictably, only one of the islands offers affordable-ish accommodation for the budget traveller, but we hoped to spend a couple of days making the most of it. unfortunately, trying to arrange this was not quite so easy. first we tried the office in town but this was closed, we tried at the lodge where we were staying but the right person to ask was never around. the next day we rose early in order to catch the daily dhow across only to find that it had alreay left. the lodge ran snorkelling trips to the island but their boat trailer was being repaired.

 
tropical views, vilankulos

this left only one option, and that was to charter our own dhow. rodriguez, a licensed and recommended operator was willing to take us but the price was just too high; if there had been twelve of us to split the cost (the capacity of the dhow), or maybe even four, then it would have been okay. but with only two of us we had to take a cheaper alternative - a day's snorkelling trip to marguerite island. we left at low tide in the capable(?) hands of rodriguez's young crew who successfully, if erratically, manoeuvred the wooden boat through some very shallow waters to get us to the island. the snorkelling wasn't great - poor visibility and a strong current - but we had the dhow and the island to ourselves and we even managed to make it back to the mainland just before the afternoon storm swept in. 

when we were not out on the dhow we were relaxing on the decking of the restaurant/bar watching the local life coming and going on the beach below. it's a working beach - fisherman and fishmongers; taxi dhows; produce and people brought back and forth; children and teenagers playing or pestering. mostly though, the tourists stayed off the beach keeping to their own side of the security guarded gate.

tofo beach - 24th january

now this is what i call a beach - a gently curving strip of sand stretching almost to the horizon in either direction, sandwiched between clear blue breakers and a high sand dune running the length of the bay - tofo feels immediately wilder and more rugged than vilankulos and the east african beaches to the north. bamboozi's bar is perched fort-like atop the long dune, affording fantastic views out to sea and more immediately of those brave enough to bodysurf the incessant waves. the beach was deserted bar a few kids selling shell bracelets and necklaces at the dune bottom. we relaxed, we read, we read some more. we splashed in the sea and lay on the beach. in the evenings we allowed ourselves to be mesmerised by the waves and enchanted by the soft light reflecting off the dune. it was a good place.

 
moon rise, tofo beach

tofo had more delights and a few surprises in store. we booked an 'ocean safari'; a boat trip promising snorkelling with whalesharks. we've dived in many places around the world and the remote chance of encountering a whaleshark - the largest fish in the sea - has always been an enticing, but never reached carrot, dangled by divemasters who'd seemed as hopeful as us. would we really get to see them? and with so little ceremony? the girl in the dive shop seemed confident. we couldn't quite believe it.

there's no jetty at tofo; no port or dock. i wondered how we were going to get a boat, and us, beyond the relentless waves that pounded the entire length of the beach. admittedly the local fisherman must manage it daily with their flimsy little boats, but even so...

the answer was a semi-rigid speed boat, the type used as lifeboats off the coast of england, with an inflatable top section and two large outboards. the boat was dragged partway into the surf by an abused looking land rover, then hauled the rest of the way by us. the instant it floated we jumped, srambled and dragged ourselves aboard and did our best to hang on as the powerful motors serged us forward, racing between the huge swells and backing off as we teetered over the crests. i'm sure the young mozambiquan skipper must have thought he had the best job in the world, and as we whipped through the spray, tearing across the ocean, i must admit, i would have been inclined to agree.

 
wild tofo beach

after ten minutes motoring along the coast, the skipper turned the boat and cut the engines. we were well beyond the breakers now, rolling gently in the huge but flattened swells. in the water ahead a large grey shadow moved slowly towards us. the time had finally come; that was the shark, and we were going in. as we quickly tugged on our snorkelling gear, its profile became clearer. it glided just inches below the surface. how big? four metres? six? i honestly don't know. it was massive.

being gentle plankon eaters whale sharks have no teeth and there's no reason to fear them. i had no hesitation getting into the water but the size of thing! even from the boat it looked intimidating.

rolling backwards over the side of the boat, i cleared my snorkel and turned to orient myself. behind me through the grainy gloom of the plankton rich water, a three foot wide, oval mouth loomed steadily but directly towards me. kicking backwards with my fins i got myself narrowly out of its path; it had showed no signs of moving out of mine.

we encountered four more that morning. jumping from the boat to swim with each. they usually trawled for plankton just below the surface, gliding slowly enough that, with fins, it's possible to keep up, briefly sharing their view of the world. if you stop and let them pass, it takes a while for their length to go by. from below it's like the opening scene of star wars, when the ship passes over head. it's easy to gaze in wonder and forget about the tail, a couple of times it swung just a little too close. the experience was as exciting and breathtaking as we'd always hoped.

 
andy, under the sea

encouraged by the prospect of more whale sharks, we did something we'd been putting off for a long time. we booked ourselves onto a padi advanced diving course. we wanted to dive manta reef, and we were fed-up being told we couldn't dive the best sites because we didn't have our advanced. this should put an end to it.

on the first dive of our course, we were deep down in the gloom, admiring a lion fish when the speckled grey flanks of a huge whale shark passed behind claire like a silent train. it had been very close. it's rare to see them at that depth, well, rarer i should say, than seeing them at all. but there was more. whilst completing our safety stop (this involves pausing before surfacing, at a depth of 5 metres for 3 minutes - it helps prevent you getting the bends) another leviathan began cruising directly towards us, diving down level with our depth. we were getting used to this by now, and finned out of the way, but this particular fish didn't keep going like the others had. it turned again. then again and again, twisting its massive body to point its gaping, toothless slot of a mouth towards us. round and round we went, turning tight circles like syncronised swimmers. we had surfaced by now, but the shark still chased us. we knew it didn't want to eat us, but it was getting ridiculous, we were tiring and becoming a little anxious - it probably didn't know its own strength.

the dive boat approached and the instructor shouted for us to stay still. having, by now, little other choice, we decided to give it a try. closer and closer it came; collision course. we braced ourselves. our heads being above water we couldn't quite see how, but somehow it missed us.

we finned for the boat. two sharks now pursuing us. we always hoped to see these creatures, but we never knew that they felt the same way. it was getting too much. claire clambered aboard as i clung to the side of the boat. below, a massive shadow approached one more time. i pulled my mask back on and dipped my head down for a look. the sea giant closed in slowly pausing as we went eye to eye, just a foot apart, before moving off; his curiousity sated and me speachless.

 
claire, bamboozi

after completing some more dives at tofo - seeing manta rays, turtles and a very large, unidentified, predatory looking shark - we drove south over some more pot hole riddled roads to the capital, maputo. on the way we encountered the legendary enthusiasm of the mozambiquan police. something we'd been surprised to have avoided so far. there are tales of them trying to fine people for wearing the wrong type of sunglasses, having three warning triangles instead of two and other such nonsense. presumably what they're after is a bribe in exchange for dropping the fine.

the officer who flagged us down tried to pull a few tricks, but he didn't try too hard. perhaps it was the heat. the conversation went something like this:

'you were speeding.'

'no i wasn't.'

'you weren't?

'no.'

'ok. but you couldn't see when you overtook,' he gestured down the long, perfectly straight road.

'yes i could. i could see clearly. the road is straight.'

'you could see clearly?'

'yes.'

'ok. but ...'

and on it went, in calm, polite, matter-of-fact tones. but it ended amicably, him still smiling, even when we told him that no, we hadn't brought him any presents from england.

 
political party emblem, inhambane

maputo is quite a pleasant capital by african standards. the boulevards are wide and treelined, a legacy of the portugese colonisation that shaped the city. it has even been described as looking european, a comparison i can understand, but ultimately you could never forget you're in africa. though it's safe to walk the streets, the larger houses are barracaded behind high walls topped with razor wire, sometimes the windows and balconies are barred too. but we enjoyed the opportunity of strolling through a city, something we hadn't been able to do for quite a while.

from maputo it was just a few hours drive to south africa. we were a little surprised to find ourselves already at the bottom of the continent, but we looked forward to the shopping malls and supermarkets. a smooth fast toll-road ushered us towards the border, a taste of things to come. just one last police check, though the officer faltered in her ability to make up fines when she realised we didn't speak zulu.

 
portugese influence, inhambane

mozambique: accomodation

mozambique: other info

entry checks: coming from malawi a visa is required in advance; in blantyre this takes four days to process if it's your first visit. we've heard that coming from sa you can get it at the border - best to check first. despite having already paid for the visa you then have to pay the official for stamping your passport ($2). customs will use their own temporary import permit paperwork ($5) but will stamp the carnet if you so wish. insurance is required ($22) and can be purchased at the customs desk at the same time as the import permit is being sorted (ignore the touts outside who try to get you to buy their insurance). the forms are simple - you shouldn't need the services of the locals who try to fill them in for you. between tofo and maputo there are plenty of traffic police who look for fineable offences. if this happens simply say, "no, no fine". it worked for us.

costs: mozambique is a very poor country but this doesn't make it particularly cheap to travel in. accommodation costs a lot more than in east africa and i guess prices have been brought in line with south african. camping costs about £4 per person, and a simple room can cost £20. fruit and veg from the local traders is cheap and fresh seafood is a steal - a kilo of prawns costs the same as half a dozen eggs! beer is decent - try manica, laurentina or 2m (pronouced dosh em) and is around 75p for big bottles. diesel is 46 pence a litre.

money: most of the larger towns have cash points which accept visa. on the southern coast and in maputo lodging can be paid for in rand or dollars.

must sees: without a doubt the whale sharks and manta rays at tofo beach; the bazaruto islands off vilankulos and apparently the northern coast's deserted beaches. maputo (the capital) is surprisingly relaxing to walk around; for curios try the art fair on saturday mornings. chimoio and inhambane are pleasant towns. you can't miss the pot holes.