On Tuesday, we left Maputo around 4:30 am in order to hopefully avoid any police roadblocks but also to beat some of the morning traffic. It took an hour just to get out of the sprawling city. After hearing countless horror stories from travelers driving through Mozambique, we went through several police blocks, but managed not to be stopped once.
As we headed through Xai-Xai (shy-shy), expansive vistas of palm trees emerged. I remember seeing this when we came from hot, dusty Namibia in 1999 and thinking we had just arrived in paradise. The heat and humidity of Maputo seemed to subside as a gentle ocean breeze swept in.
For the entire drive and I can imagine for the rest of our time in Mozambique, there was a village about every ten kilometers. This means slowing down from 100 kph to 60kph in order to avoid the speed traps. As it is near to the end of the month payday, these poorly paid policemen will be looking for any excuse to make some extra cash. The roads have been repaved and widened recently, and the landmine removals signs from a decade ago are no longer there. The villages seemed to be thriving, and there were numerous roadside stands hawking peanuts, mangoes, cashews, peri-peri sauce, and large pieces of pottery.
We were going to drive the 500 kilometers right to Tofo Beach, but spotted a sign 150 kilometers south for LaGoa Eco-lodge. We diverted off of the tarmac onto a deep sandy road and drove seven kilometers further through villages until we reached the loveliest spot. LaGoa was a good stop. Thatched rondavels dotted the property, with views of the freshwater lagoon. The ocean was another four kilometers away and reminded us quite strongly of the National Seashore on Cape Cod with grassy sand dunes, a strong breeze and long beaches. The water was definitely warmer though, and we sank ourselves into the Indian Ocean to cool off in the three to four foot waves.
LaGoa was wonderfully landscaped with shady sitting areas, beautiful plants, and terraced grassy lawns. Because we arrived in the late morning, we had the whole day to enjoy ourselves. It felt a little bit like camping when night came and the only light we had was from our LED lantern and a paraffin lamp. Under the mosquito nets, we went to bed early listening to the silence and woke up early.
Coconuts and mangoes were plentiful and we had a couple of them for breakfast on Wednesday. After the six hour drive the day before, I was looking forward to a rather short travel day. We drove 120 kilometers on to Inhambane, the 11th century Arab trading post. As we were about to check into our room overlooking the harbor, we discovered that we had left the computer in its special hiding place back at LaGoa. The place was about as safe as home, but we have gotten into a routine of stashing away valuables when we are not in the room. Most things we would not have turned back around for, but the computer was one of the few things we did. And of course, it was right where we left it. It was not a disaster; as much as we don’t want to, we have the time to make mistakes like this. We wrote it off as a long driving day. In fact, it was one of the longest on the trip.
We were stopped by the police once and Russ’ certified forged drivers’ license passed inspection. After all, the most important thing is the certification. We did not drive back into Inhambane but found a great place forty minutes outside – Quinta Santo Antonio - opened by South Africans hoping to cash in on the recent tourism boom in this area. It was comfortable and undoubtedly nicer than the one we had planned to stay earlier. We were invited to dinner by a man and his daughter who were also staying over, and it was incredibly refreshing having a meal that we did not have to cook.
Thursday morning we drove into Inhambane, checking out the Arab-influenced architecture before heading to Tofo beach. It’s a chilled-out scene, reminding us of Caye Caulker in some ways but with a more developed surf and dive scene. The beach was expansive and clean while the ocean was clear and near bath temperature. We stayed at Fatima’s Nest, which was located right on the beach. We lounged in the shade and talked with people we had met in Maputo, before walking into town to buy some fruit, freshly baked bread, and bottled water (up to this point in Mozambique we have been treating the water with iodine or boiling, but the water here is apparently not treatable? Who knows but who wants to find out?) We also had an early dinner at a streetside café before coming back to Fatima’s.
The Cricket World Cup is underway, which doesn’t mean much to anyone outside of the former British empire, and certainly not me. But to any Brit, Aussie, Indian, Pakistani and countless others, it is the major happening in the world right now. Every now and again, we catch the BBC news and follow the revolutions in northern Africa and the Middle East which has taken on new meaning since we will be living there in six months. Hopefully, they will be peaceful processes.
We like the vibe and our oceanside grass hut at Fatima’s Nest, but the communal toilets and showers were rather nasty. So this morning, we moved slightly out of town to Turtle Cove, which while it has a lovely view is back away from the beach. Because it’s the off-season, we got an en-suite room for half the price of the grass hut at Fatima’s. It’s only a ten minute walk to the swimming beach and a five minute walk to where the surfers go. The grounds are shady and grassy; there is also a pool and amazing yoga center on the grounds where classes are offered daily but there are also instruction dvd’s to use by ourselves. Our idea is to stay through the weekend, and I don’t imagine our plan of reading, swimming, walking the beach, and eating fresh fish and fruit will change much over the next couple of days. I really enjoy this kind of life, living in a bathing suit and sarong and walking barefoot everywhere. Russ does too, and we are not in a rush.
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