Mozambique is the strangest place I have ever visited: strangely beautiful but totally outrageous in regard to tourism. I have a new meaning of the term personal safety since my return. Crossing the border took twice as long as it did in Swaziland because we needed a visa for entry. My english was no longer of use to me because the official language is Portuguese. Thank God Diana is mexican because we were able to get by on her spanish
. Once we crossed made it in Moz, we had an idea of where we were going, but there were no street signs. We drove through the mountains, listening to the same CDs we had been for the last several hours. We arrived in the city of Maputo and drove on roads such as Karl Marx Ave and Vladimir Lenin Dr. After getting lost a couple of times on the horribly paved roads, we made it to our backpackers' place. We exchanged money and got dinner at Niko's place. Niko came to our table during our meal and suggested we spend Easter weekend with his friends on their private boat. They would take us to a couple of Islands and let us drink and play in the water. I couldn't decide which was better: laying on a boat cocktail in hand or squeezing my body through tiny cave holes in Swaziland...
We sat outside, drinking and playing cards late into the evening. Caroline and Louise spent the entire next day with food poisoning so Pat, Diana and I explored downtown Maputo. The city is nothing like Chicago, St. Louis, and nothing like Cape Town. Men in all different kinds of uniforms roamed the streets with AK 47s. Vendors were aggressive and there was nothing I could do to hide my skin to even try to blend in and not look like an American. We were all a little on edge because of several warnings my friends had given us. We found our way to an old amusement park where we ate lunch. Afterward we bought tickets for ourselves and a group of young boys to ride the bumper cars and swirly shells. We had just as much fun as our little friends did.
We then went to the market and Pat went to find us a nearby Church for Easter mass. Pat didn't return for quite some time, and when he did he told us of how he had just talked his
way out of getting arrested. The police gave him a hard time about not having his passport on him and told him he would have to spend the next two nights in prison. He tried to reason with the heavily armed men and they robbed him, but let him go. We took an open-air taxi back to our hostel after purchasing even more things we, mainly I, don't need. Of course the taxi broke down on the road and I saw myself about to get robbed for the third time. It started back up and we went back to check on our friends. We had dinner and drinks at a famous seafood restaurant and because we were told not to go out alone at night, we stayed in.
The next day was Easter and we all got up at 6AM to go to mass. The tide was low and there were several groups of people in the ocean baptizing one another (see little specs in photo). This was really cool to see, and I wanted to walk out there and get a closer look, but that would have just been inappropriate/awkward. We arrived at Church to find it locked up: we tried to figure out a way in but the people outside shooting us death glares told us Church was closed that day: Easter. Church was closed on Easter.
We met up with Niko's friends at the dock and headed toward Inhaca Island. Only 7:30 AM, Louise suggested it wasn't too early for gin & tonics. We had the entire boat to ourselves and laid on the front of the boat, listening to music, reading books, journaling and catching warm rays of the African sun. We made a stop to a deserted island called Portuguese Island. No one lived there, there were no buildings, boats, trash, nothing. It was just a big pile of sand and
trees. We docked and swam around, playing with starfish and splashing around. We then went to Inhaca Island, home to 6,000 residents for the rest of the day. We had lunch and explored the large island, hitting up the market and beach. We saw caught the most beautiful sunset, which was the perfect ending to our day and our adventure.
But that was too perfect to be real. After docking, we got in our car, headed back to the hostel when a group of policemen spotted us. Damnit. The blocked the road with their car and came up to our car. We were calm and had our seat belts fastened. When we didn't understand him, the cop said, "You don't want to speak portuguese?" Diana rolled down her window from the back and tried to talk to him in spanish. He wasn't really having that either. Long story short we got robbed again but didn't have to go to jail.
Once we crossed the South African border the next day we were overjoyed and relieved. Though it was stressful and at times a bit unsafe, traveling in Mozambique was an awesome experience. I'd say it was one of those been there, done that, not necessarily on my list of places to return, kind of places, but what excitement.
NOTE: after emails from concerned friends, I want to clarify about the boat. Niko's friend runs a business taking out people on his boat and he cut us half price...we didn't jut hop on a stranger's boat...rest easily.
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