Did not sleep one week (sorry, meant a wink) at the casino due to oversized pillows and a raging nightclub across the road. It was so loud I could hear everyone singing the Greece Mega Mix and La Bamba at 1.30m in the morning and I had ear plugs in! I rang reception in the early hours of the morning to complain. They could offer us a smoking room but considering we were getting up in 4 hours we didn't bother moving. The worst thing was we only got 10% discount after complaining. It was the biggest waste of $200.
At the airport I was grumpy from being soooo tired. I therefore did not appreciate it when the shopkeeper complained over and over again when I asked her to repack the alcohol we bought into boxes rather than plastic bags. There was no one behind us waiting so I didn't see what her problem was but she didn't stop muttering under her breath and even told us she was bored with serving us and wanted new customers – more like no customers (some people are very lazy)! I snapped and told her “Well I am sorry but it is your job so stop complaining and just do it!” (or something to that effect) and stormed off leaving Jon to deal with her. She was anything but happy with me.
From the air it looks like Mosambique is mostly scrub inland with what appears to be numerous lakes. Sand and palm trees are along the coast. There is virtually no grass to be seen anywhere, at least from what I can see. The local culture is a mixture of Arabic, African and Portuguese. Most people live on the beach making their living from the ocean.
We are staying in a place called Moza Dev (more thatched roof glorified huts) right on the beach front in Vilanculos. Vilanculos is approximately 700km north of Maputo (the capital) and is known as the gateway to the romantic islands of Bazaruto (a big islandwe can see from our hut). The majority of locals live in small single room thatched huts (easier and cheaper to rebuild after cyclones plus they are very poor). Those who have cement houses keep their corrugated iron roofs from blowing off by placing bricks and rocks on top and whatever else they can find to add weight. I have seen a singer sewing machine on top of one house.
Vilanculos is not very touristy yet (it is also not tourist season). I don't think Mosambique in general is as the civil war only finished a decade or so ago and it yet to re-establish itself. We have been advised not to go off the beaten track due to land mines, also, the roads are horrendous (mostly sand so you really need a four wheel drive to get around and lots of patience). Things such as food is reasonably expensive as it takes so long to get in due to the roads. Petrol is also something ridiculous like $8 liter. I get the impression that the locals are not too excited to see white people in their village. They are not rude but they are not overly friendly. Children will wave and say hello but few adults will respond to you. I can't really blame them. They probably think we are like the managers of the place we are staying at who treat their staff like they are beneath them (the guy had two pending court cases against him for abuse of staff). The fat owner is no better. I almost cried at the way he spoke to the staff who were helping us on the boat one of the days we were here. I don't understand these peoples' mentality.
There is not much to do here so we are forced to relax – not something I generally do on holidays but since we have five months of sight seeing ahead of us I'll manage. Really the only things to do here are fishing, island hopping, scuba diving and snorkeling. It gets dark here at 5pm so there is nothing to do in the late afternoon except drink and play Canasta or go to bed. We have been having some alarmingly early nights. However, in our defence, there is a roster that needs its body clock retrained as it goes off on the hour from about 1am onwards. I am ready to ring its neck. That wouldn't solve much though as the locals don't seem to sleep here. I can hear music blaring (not quite as bad as at the Monte Casino) in the wee hours of the morning and people chatting as they get ready to fish before the break of dawn. The other morning someone was chain sawing something at about 5.30am. We only get electricity for a few hours in the morning and from about 4 or 5pm until 10pm. The generator is rather noisy so I am glad our hut is furtherest away from it. However the noise does cover the incessant dashes to the toilet everyone seems to make. The internet – I don't think it exists in Vilanculous.
On the Friday we went for a boat ride to one of the local islands – Margaruque. It was a bit of a fiasco. The boys went first and we were supposed to go half an hour later. So at 7.30am we waded out about a km out to sea (the tide was obviously out) and wait for the boat... no sign. We sat in the broken boat and ate very dry Portugese bread rolls. The boat must have arrived well over an hour later. Don't ask me why we didn't go back to shore - I still don't know the answer.
The romantic breakfast we were supposed to have on a deserted island turned out to be lunch on an inhabited island. However the island was beautiful with crystal clear water that was warm. There were also dolphins swimming close to shore. Meanwhile the boys went deep sea fishing which involved everyone except Dave vomiting over the edge of the boat for an afternoon. That night we ate fish – probably caught from all the burley provided!
Saturday = relaxing plus many rounds of Canasta. That night after a few gin and tonics we had a dance party around the ute. Lots of fun dancing to South African songs with Dave, Michelle, Lucretia and even Gloria, Annalize, Heinrich and his sister and her partner.
Sunday = more relaxing. Jon and I thought we would check out the local Roman Catholic Church as it was recommended in the local tourist office as one of the 10 things to do here. We tried to sit at the back but they moved us to the front barring our escape plan. No one wanted to sit next to us and did there best to avoid us all cramming on to the row in front. We didn't understand a word of it except Amen and Hallelujah. The singing was great (the reason we went) as were the drums they played. I think at the end they may have wanted us to say something at the end or go out the front as they all looked at us but we had no idea what they wanted. It was a strange but interesting experience and I am glad we went but one hour of incomprehension instead of one and a half would have been more preferable.
Monday = another boating fiasco. We were up at 6am ready to go. We waded out to the boat and loaded it up with tables, bbqs umbrellas etc. All aboard and then... the engine wouldn't start. Meanwhile the anchor is not down and we are drifting out to sea. An hour or more passes by before the send a rescue party in the good boat (the one that should have been given to us in the first place) come to get us. We then decide, despite the rain clouds in the distance, to continue on our doomed voyage in the good boat (it has now been offered to us).
First stop snorkeling at 2 mile reef which we were told was near land. The waves we went over to get there nearly threw Michelle overboard. Everyone is holding on for dear life screaming except for me. I was laughing my head off thinking this was the best fun ever. There is no sight of land when we arrive and the waves are huge. Most people refuse to go in due to the size of the waves (my reasoning is sharks) so Jon was called back to the boat (he jumped straight overboard as soon as we arrived) and we head off to our next destination – Pansy Island.
Pansy Island is really a sand bank that is only exposed some times. It gets it name from these amazing shells that have flowers on them and are supposedly found only there. We were all excited and started collecting handfuls of them. The the rainclouds came. There was a mad dash to put the beach umbrellas up which we huddled under until the first shower passed. Then right after we dished up brunch the rain decided to return so we were all dripping wet under umbrellas eating soggy food. All you could do was laugh and chase your towels as they blew away. Ours is in the ocean somewhere. Luckily it was only the bath towel we took from our room. After that we called it a day.
Tuesday, our last full day in Mosambique was again spent doing not much. in the morning we went to the local markets which were a maze of hap hassardly put together stalls forming tiny alleyways. You had to continually watch where you were going or you might slice your head off on some corrugated iron. At the same time you had to watch where you placed your feet or you could step in some sludge which you may be best off not knowing what it is or worse yet you could fall down a hole. The markets didn't sell much but they did have beautiful reams of bartik material that I loved but have no need for so I practiced self control. Michelle did not and came out with arms laden with goods. Now I see why their suitcases are so big! That afternoon we walked along the beach to a Portugese restaurant/ bar where we ate some delicious Portugese finger food and then rolled ourselves out of there. I have a new drink of choice – Caiprinha (rum, brown sugar and limes). Yum, yum. We tried to take photos of the locals coming in with their fish but they did not appreciate it and even chased us away at one point when we asked them if they would mind.
Today is Wednesday and we are going to be spending most of our time in airports. Tonight if all goes well we will be in Cape Town. Our journey in Africa is almost at a end.
At the airport I was grumpy from being soooo tired. I therefore did not appreciate it when the shopkeeper complained over and over again when I asked her to repack the alcohol we bought into boxes rather than plastic bags. There was no one behind us waiting so I didn't see what her problem was but she didn't stop muttering under her breath and even told us she was bored with serving us and wanted new customers – more like no customers (some people are very lazy)! I snapped and told her “Well I am sorry but it is your job so stop complaining and just do it!” (or something to that effect) and stormed off leaving Jon to deal with her. She was anything but happy with me.
From the air it looks like Mosambique is mostly scrub inland with what appears to be numerous lakes. Sand and palm trees are along the coast. There is virtually no grass to be seen anywhere, at least from what I can see. The local culture is a mixture of Arabic, African and Portuguese. Most people live on the beach making their living from the ocean.
We are staying in a place called Moza Dev (more thatched roof glorified huts) right on the beach front in Vilanculos. Vilanculos is approximately 700km north of Maputo (the capital) and is known as the gateway to the romantic islands of Bazaruto (a big islandwe can see from our hut). The majority of locals live in small single room thatched huts (easier and cheaper to rebuild after cyclones plus they are very poor). Those who have cement houses keep their corrugated iron roofs from blowing off by placing bricks and rocks on top and whatever else they can find to add weight. I have seen a singer sewing machine on top of one house.
Vilanculos is not very touristy yet (it is also not tourist season). I don't think Mosambique in general is as the civil war only finished a decade or so ago and it yet to re-establish itself. We have been advised not to go off the beaten track due to land mines, also, the roads are horrendous (mostly sand so you really need a four wheel drive to get around and lots of patience). Things such as food is reasonably expensive as it takes so long to get in due to the roads. Petrol is also something ridiculous like $8 liter. I get the impression that the locals are not too excited to see white people in their village. They are not rude but they are not overly friendly. Children will wave and say hello but few adults will respond to you. I can't really blame them. They probably think we are like the managers of the place we are staying at who treat their staff like they are beneath them (the guy had two pending court cases against him for abuse of staff). The fat owner is no better. I almost cried at the way he spoke to the staff who were helping us on the boat one of the days we were here. I don't understand these peoples' mentality.
There is not much to do here so we are forced to relax – not something I generally do on holidays but since we have five months of sight seeing ahead of us I'll manage. Really the only things to do here are fishing, island hopping, scuba diving and snorkeling. It gets dark here at 5pm so there is nothing to do in the late afternoon except drink and play Canasta or go to bed. We have been having some alarmingly early nights. However, in our defence, there is a roster that needs its body clock retrained as it goes off on the hour from about 1am onwards. I am ready to ring its neck. That wouldn't solve much though as the locals don't seem to sleep here. I can hear music blaring (not quite as bad as at the Monte Casino) in the wee hours of the morning and people chatting as they get ready to fish before the break of dawn. The other morning someone was chain sawing something at about 5.30am. We only get electricity for a few hours in the morning and from about 4 or 5pm until 10pm. The generator is rather noisy so I am glad our hut is furtherest away from it. However the noise does cover the incessant dashes to the toilet everyone seems to make. The internet – I don't think it exists in Vilanculous.
On the Friday we went for a boat ride to one of the local islands – Margaruque. It was a bit of a fiasco. The boys went first and we were supposed to go half an hour later. So at 7.30am we waded out about a km out to sea (the tide was obviously out) and wait for the boat... no sign. We sat in the broken boat and ate very dry Portugese bread rolls. The boat must have arrived well over an hour later. Don't ask me why we didn't go back to shore - I still don't know the answer.
The romantic breakfast we were supposed to have on a deserted island turned out to be lunch on an inhabited island. However the island was beautiful with crystal clear water that was warm. There were also dolphins swimming close to shore. Meanwhile the boys went deep sea fishing which involved everyone except Dave vomiting over the edge of the boat for an afternoon. That night we ate fish – probably caught from all the burley provided!
Saturday = relaxing plus many rounds of Canasta. That night after a few gin and tonics we had a dance party around the ute. Lots of fun dancing to South African songs with Dave, Michelle, Lucretia and even Gloria, Annalize, Heinrich and his sister and her partner.
Sunday = more relaxing. Jon and I thought we would check out the local Roman Catholic Church as it was recommended in the local tourist office as one of the 10 things to do here. We tried to sit at the back but they moved us to the front barring our escape plan. No one wanted to sit next to us and did there best to avoid us all cramming on to the row in front. We didn't understand a word of it except Amen and Hallelujah. The singing was great (the reason we went) as were the drums they played. I think at the end they may have wanted us to say something at the end or go out the front as they all looked at us but we had no idea what they wanted. It was a strange but interesting experience and I am glad we went but one hour of incomprehension instead of one and a half would have been more preferable.
Monday = another boating fiasco. We were up at 6am ready to go. We waded out to the boat and loaded it up with tables, bbqs umbrellas etc. All aboard and then... the engine wouldn't start. Meanwhile the anchor is not down and we are drifting out to sea. An hour or more passes by before the send a rescue party in the good boat (the one that should have been given to us in the first place) come to get us. We then decide, despite the rain clouds in the distance, to continue on our doomed voyage in the good boat (it has now been offered to us).
First stop snorkeling at 2 mile reef which we were told was near land. The waves we went over to get there nearly threw Michelle overboard. Everyone is holding on for dear life screaming except for me. I was laughing my head off thinking this was the best fun ever. There is no sight of land when we arrive and the waves are huge. Most people refuse to go in due to the size of the waves (my reasoning is sharks) so Jon was called back to the boat (he jumped straight overboard as soon as we arrived) and we head off to our next destination – Pansy Island.
Pansy Island is really a sand bank that is only exposed some times. It gets it name from these amazing shells that have flowers on them and are supposedly found only there. We were all excited and started collecting handfuls of them. The the rainclouds came. There was a mad dash to put the beach umbrellas up which we huddled under until the first shower passed. Then right after we dished up brunch the rain decided to return so we were all dripping wet under umbrellas eating soggy food. All you could do was laugh and chase your towels as they blew away. Ours is in the ocean somewhere. Luckily it was only the bath towel we took from our room. After that we called it a day.
Tuesday, our last full day in Mosambique was again spent doing not much. in the morning we went to the local markets which were a maze of hap hassardly put together stalls forming tiny alleyways. You had to continually watch where you were going or you might slice your head off on some corrugated iron. At the same time you had to watch where you placed your feet or you could step in some sludge which you may be best off not knowing what it is or worse yet you could fall down a hole. The markets didn't sell much but they did have beautiful reams of bartik material that I loved but have no need for so I practiced self control. Michelle did not and came out with arms laden with goods. Now I see why their suitcases are so big! That afternoon we walked along the beach to a Portugese restaurant/ bar where we ate some delicious Portugese finger food and then rolled ourselves out of there. I have a new drink of choice – Caiprinha (rum, brown sugar and limes). Yum, yum. We tried to take photos of the locals coming in with their fish but they did not appreciate it and even chased us away at one point when we asked them if they would mind.
Today is Wednesday and we are going to be spending most of our time in airports. Tonight if all goes well we will be in Cape Town. Our journey in Africa is almost at a end.
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