April 15, 2005

Heeelloooo,

I know it’s been a long time since the last update so here goes. I think we left off in Tembe Elephant Park. We said goodbye to our friends at the schools. The kids sent us off with Zulu dancing, and our friends and staff at the lodge sang a heart warming rendition of "Goodbye My Darling" as we drove off (making us both a little teary-eyed). Noani, Tembe's cook, was excited at the prospect of trying to bake a pumpkin pie with a new recipe I found for her on the internet. Butternut squash will have to substitute for the pumpkin and Marie Biscuits for the crust. Best wishes Tembe.

After a bumpy, 4x4 Mozambique border crossing we arrived at The Catembe Gallery Hotel across the bay from Maputo, the capital of Mozambique. We spent Sunday at their lovely establishment relaxing around the pool, dining on garlic prawns / yummy Portuguese bread and listening to the music of a local band that did a little Portuguese/afro jazz and some Louie Armstrong numbers. We could see the big city across the water and set out the next day with the hotel’s front desk concierge, Elson. It was his day off, and he agreed to meet us at the water taxi landing after Cindy finished her photo shoot for the hotel.

We crossed the bay with the locals and all their wares (bags of mealies, biscuits, tomatoes, batteries, flashlights, etc...) for 5000 Metacais each in an overloaded-unbalanced-exhaust-spewing motor boat. After walking about 7 blocks with our 2 huge back packs and day pack, Elson checked us into a western hotel. It looked like heaven, with AC, a TV, cappuccinos and running hot water. We were sure it was better than the local backpackers. So now, on to do the reconnaissance for a local bus company that could take us up the coast to go diving. We were struck by the merging of the different times and cultures in this city. The Portuguese architecture, the street vendors hawking fresh coconuts, the poverty and the building of new infrastructure. We wandered all over town dodging manhole cover size holes in sidewalks, meandering down chicken and goat trails, stumbling past bombed out buildings (a reminder of their civil war) and exchanging money just around the corner in the bustling, modern financial district. Suffice it to say, it took all day with Elson's help; speaking Portuguese on our behalf to negotiate where, when and how much for this bus trip. Thanks Elson for all your help.

The next morning we were up at 3AM packing and on our way in the rain in a pre-arranged taxi to catch our 5AM bus. Everyone was selling Portuguese bread, roasted corn and M-Cell phone cards even at this early hour. We boarded the bus before the sun rose with our picnic lunch, water bottles and toilet paper. Hey - we are experienced in the ways of the bus journey at this point. 4 Hours out, after the locals protested, we got a 7 minute by-the-side-of-the-road potty break. And I do not mean find a tree everybody, but literally find a side of the road. After 6 hours we arrived in Xai-xai, a little town on the coast. With the help of an English speaking gentleman at the bus stop, we determined our best bet was a Dhow (wooden, single masted sail boat) ride across the bay to Inhambane. A couple of local guys made a killing on hauling our backpacks to the beach where we negotiated yet again for the boat ride.

The captain spoke a little English, and on our polling/sail boat ride he cut a deal with the elderly woman who was making the crossing with us. As we disembarked from his vessel, he advised us she would escort us to the taxi terminal. With that, he hoisted my 45Kg backpack onto her head, and the three of us waded to shore. Notice Cindy always has to carry her bag, and I get the day pack. Inhambane is the 2nd oldest Portuguese town in Mozambique, and it looked like it had embraced Marxism as we saw many a star-and-sickle silhouette graffiti. We tipped our bag-toting grandma and were blessed by her as we bid farewell.

By this time we think we are savvy in the ways of negotiation, so when the cab driver says 300,000 Meticais for our ride out to the lodge, Cindy counters with 150,000 Met. He agrees, but only if he can pick up other passengers along the way. We say "No Problem". We later discover everyone else is paying 20,000 Met. Can you believe it!!! No. Really. We did not mind. Because as I explained to Cindy in Victoria Falls when she thought I overpaid for some wooden bowls..."I'm supporting a village here". As it turns out, our ride was a VERY bumpy 45 minute ride out to the coast for what amounted to US $7.50, so I say it was worth every penny!

We stayed at The Barra Lodge in their backpackers' accommodation of a reed hut complete with bunk beds, until we were upgraded to staff quarters when the lodge became over booked. We took over the catering manager’s reed hut behind the dive shop when he went to JHB. We went out on numerous dingy dives. The boat launches from the beach were at times treacherous. And the waves crashed over us as we tried to beat the swells. The water was churned up so visibility was not as good as we had hoped, but we got in lots of dives and Cindy got her PADI Advanced Open Water certification. Cindy saw a Guitar Shark, Manta Rays and a Black Tipped Reef Shark on her 25 meter dive. I was having trouble clearing my ears so I did not make the last dive.

After 8 days of diving and hanging out in the boat bar, we decided to head back to the big city of Maputo. On the morning of our departure, we had arranged for a ride from the lodge back into Inhambane at 5AM. We awoke once again to a torrential rain storm. We repacked everything into large garbage bags as we were once again doing that public bus thing (and who knows if our bags would end up strapped to the top of said vehicle). We braved the muddy road to the lodge to find it quite dark, full of mosquitoes and no driver to be found. Around 6AM the first lodge employee showed up and made a cell call to our "friend" who then stumbled in 10 minutes later. They made a plan (South African slang) and suddenly there was a 7AM Olivera bus, so no worries. Off we went, backpacks and all. I was literally air born most of the trip. We were informed that the boss cut our "friend's" wages the last time he forgot some guests. So as we came across the local guys walking down the road into work he barked orders. He made arrangements in Portuguese to wake somebody else up and meet him down the road. There was this whole relay of individuals speeding off on quad bikes. The next thing we know, we have swapped drivers and off we go again this time with another sleepy-eyed fellow. Our "friend" jumped on the back of a quad bike to the lodge were he could slide behind the desk and look like all was well when the boss showed up.

There was indeed a 7AM Olivera bus, but it was also the milk run. 11 Hours later (instead of the expected 6 hours) we finally arrived back in Maputo. As we were being herded towards taxis, Cindy called the local backpackers for a pick up from the bus station. But there were communication difficulties and the whole "Africa- time" thing was going on, so we opted for a quick taxi ride back to our favorite Ibis Hotel. Two guys were carrying our BIG, HEAVY BACKPACKS and getting us loaded into the cab, when Cindy Safety turns to me and said "Do you think this taxi is legit?" This was her code to me (which went right over my head) for "Do you think this is safe for us to be getting into a cab with three guys?" Now, I know these two guys are just cab driver helpers if you will and would not enter the cab. So I am somewhat astounded that she would, even now after all this time, still believe these cabs are licensed and insured. We're in Africa man! So I say "Are you still hung up on those sort of things even after Lusaka?" It had been a very long day.

The next morning we went in search of the palatial Palano Hotel. My family spent a Christmas vacation in what was then called Lorenzo Marques and is now Maputo. We stayed at this elegant Portuguese colonial hotel, and I wanted to see if it was as grand as I remembered. Funny how a country can go through a civil war, a Marxised government and still this hotel remained unscathed. I think my dad said it best "Hey the various powers that came and went liked this establishment as well as the previous regime". We dined in the Tea Room overlooking the pool that looks sort of like the Hearst Castle pool. Aaahhh!!....

So you can see Maputo treated us well and the next morning we set off on another bus ride. It was the best bus ride ever on board The Pantura Azul for a re-supply stop in JHB, before the next leg to Namibia.