Love Thy Neighbour

For two years I had been talking about going to visit northern Mozambique but nobody wanted to come with me. People thought it was dangerous and troublesome. Then, when I read Gary Williams' first of the 'Love Thy Neighbour' series (about Cahora Bassa, April 2003), I realised that going to Mozambique wasn't all that dangerous after all, and I decided to go. (Note that visas MUST be obtained beforehand at the Moz Embassy, 9592 Kacha Rd, Lusaka, cost K150,000)

To be honest, this neighbourly destination is not exactly next-door. It takes four days of straight driving to get there, but then … the bliss, the beauty, the beaches, not to mention the history and the people. Day One got me to Chipata (Mama Rula's, $30), Day Two to Mangochi on the south-end of Lake Malawi (Palm Beach Resort, $25), Day Three to Cuamba (Vision 2000 Hotel, $30), and Day four to Nampula (Hotel Tropical, $70) and the coast beyond.

The Zambia-Malawi border at Mchinji has always been easy and was so again (road tax $12 - MK114=$1). To reach Mangochi via Salima was an easy day's drive (the road from Mua Mission to Cape McClear is being refurbished), and I only stopped near Mangochi town for last-minute shopping and fuelling and because I didn't want to cross into Mozambique late in the day.

The border crossing the next day was a doddle. Everything was straightforward and orderly (car insurance $23, Temporary Import Permit $2, Immigration stamp $2), even though Mandimba is only a little-used border. There were no moneychanger hassles, no attempts at making life difficult, and both officials (one customs, one immigration) were friendly and welcoming. The dreaded mountain road between Malawi and Mozambique (which used to be in a horrid state, especially after rains) had been tarred; the roads inside Mozambique were all good gravel, and, from Nampula onwards, wonderful asphalt.

Only to get Meticais ($1 = M20,000) and Diesel was a bit of a problem. Banks were closed, and diesel pumps were dry (petrol was ok though, costing less than in Zambia), but having 120 spare litres in an extra tank and plenty of food supplies, I didn't worry.

In Cuamba, the Vision 2000 Hotel is owned and run by Els, a Dutch woman who used to be a volunteer in Mansa, and then, in the mid-70s, moved to northern Mozambique. She stayed throughout the war to help people, and knows the area like no other. Across from the hotel I found an ATM that obligingly spat out some cash (maximum: M3,000,000 - $1=M20,000). Cuamba is not a particularly beautiful city though lively and quite scenic: oddly-shaped mountains and inselbergs surround it.

Guidebooks and Michelin maps praise the road from Cuamba to Nampula as the most scenic in all of Mozambique, which was very true: empty stretches of land alternate with built-up areas, abandoned settlements with picturesque small towns, and everywhere there are splendid views to be had. Weird was the total absence of birds. Cuamba had crows and Nampula some sparrows, but that was it. Were they all eaten during the war, I wondered?

Nampula, a big city, was reached after dark, and it was raining. I had no time to look for suitable accommodation and booked into the nearest and biggest hotel there was (Hotel Tropical, $70 - expensive for nothing). That night I had my last of hot showers and first of fish dinners in a whole month, because from now on hot showers were not necessary (it was sooo hot) and fish was to be my staple while on the coast (I indeed had fish/prawns/lobster for dinner for the next 3 weeks). Nampula's market and museum were interesting, the former for the variety of goods on sale (incl. live turtles), the latter for the similarity to our museums (one can see that the peoples of our region are closely related), but I wanted to get to the historic coast.

Ilha da Mozambique was my goal, the 2km-long island south of Nampula that had been fiercely fought over throughout history - and has lots of ruins to show for it. Access is by 3km toll bridge ($0.50), closed to large vehicles. There are two bollards at the entry and exit of the bridge; cars that don't fit in-between can't get onto the island (my Pajero squeezed through); their occupants have to seek shelter in the nearby hotel/campground and hop onto a 'chapa' (open pickup, Moz' equivalent to our minibus) to get to the island.

I stayed at a cute little B&B (Casa Blanca, $20) with view of ocean and old fort, and spent a pleasant two days thoroughly exploring the island. My ignorance of Portuguese was keenly felt; I would have loved chatting to people but couldn't. The island is densely and multi-ethnically populated (c. 7000 inhabitants), due to it having been a refuge for people from mainland and open sea alike. Most people now live in the southern part of

the island, called Clay Town because of its mud-brick houses. The island is touristically not very developed. There is only one proper hotel (but many guesthouses), a post-office without stamps, a small tourist information center, a couple of restaurants, and an internet café.

Ilya de Mocambique, settled since c. 400 A.D. and ruled by Moussa Ben Mbiki (originator of the name Mozambique) from 1498 onwards, was the capital of coastal Mozambique until the 1930s when trade and importance shifted first to Nacala and then to Maputo. Not once had this island been conquered, despite Portuguese, Dutch, English and French giving it their best to storm its defences. The fort in the northern/historic part of town bears witness to the island's shifting fortunes.

I carried on north - to Nacala harbour, then Pemba and Ilha Ibo (another history-laden island only accessible by dhow).

Nacala Harbour, Zambia's former lifeline to the rest of the world (in the days of Rhodesian UDI), is now a small insignificant port. At the harbour entrance I encountered the only police roadblock of my whole Mozambique trip (Tanzania, later, more than made up for it!) - and they only wanted to know what I was doing near the port. I moved out of town to the coast, and stayed at a small diving resort (Bay Diving, $30), finding good birding for a change.

There are many South Africans in this part of Mozambique, recognizable by GP licence plates and sharp voices, building roads, dams, and electrifications. Mozambique wants to develop in leaps and bounds, FAST, and S.A. is the nearest source of expertise. There are also a great number of Chinese to be seen, just like in Zambia.

I liked Pemba, a peninsula with two harbours - a fishing one and a container one - and a booming tourist industry. It certainly is picture-perfectly beautiful: blue seas, white sails, lovely beaches. But, as I discovered later by delving into the 'shanties', not everything is picture perfect. Poverty is common, but good cheap nutritious food is available everywhere. AIDS, as evidenced by roadside posters, is as much a problem here as in the

rest of Southern Africa. I stayed at a travellers' place (Russell's Place on Wimbe Beach - dirty, overpriced, poor food - $20) because I needed information about conditions further north. Russell, the owner, certainly was a mine of information and told me how to get to Ibo, and how to organize island transport and car safety.

Off towards Ilha Ibo, the legendary island of sultans, traders and slavers, which can only be reached by dhow and only during high tide. I parked my car at a secure lock-up ($2.50/day) and much enjoyed my first dhow trip (a regular watertaxi, $1), lasting two hours. Ibo Island is very picturesque, a mixture of genteelly decaying old manor houses and coastal village settings, interspersed by Portuguese-origin ruins - a fort, some churches, some villas. It is easy to explore the 2km long island in a couple of days; one can walk everywhere. There is no traffic on the island, only a single 'tuktuk' (motorcycle-cum-trailer taxi) that helps people carry luggage. Not many tourists come to Ibo and not much accommodation is available (3 guesthouses, to be precise). Janine's is everyone's favourite ($18): it's right on the beach, adjacent to 'old town', and has great food (a whole lobster $5).

Here, for the first time on the journey, I saw lots of birds. Waders and shore-birds on migration they were, mainly curlews and whimbrels, feeding on the mudflats and calling throughout the night (a mournful ringing fluting call), but also pelicans and terns, storks and turnstones, and a variety of weavers and scrub birds along the mangrove coast. Not everyone is enamoured by Ibo. I had given a lift to a Spanish 'Medicins sans Frontieres' woman who'd been visiting her projects in Pemba. She took one look at Ibo and Janine's and fled, phoning for a car to pick her up (a 3 1/2 hr drive on poor roads) and insisting on a dhow to take her back at low tide. It was all way too basic for her!

Next I visited Pangani Peninsula, a small fishing village that is praised in some guidebooks as good for fishing and diving. I just wanted to have a look-see (plus giving a lift to a stranded tourist) and so I drove the 46km from Macomia to Mucoje, off the tar and onto ok gravel, then the remaining 12km in deep sand. The road leads through the Quirimba Game Reserve, but I certainly have never seen such a pitiful reserve in all my life: burnt forests, poor villages, few birds and no game. Maybe it'll revive in future? Accommodation was at Suk's guesthouse, a 3-roomed flat ($8) at a fish-processing factory. Mr Suk was briefly in residence but had to return to his home in Macomia (the story of Chinese-heritage 'Mr Suki' can be read in Justin Fox's 'With both hands waving', Getaway Publications 2003).

The last Mozambique town, Mocimbua du Praia, a harbour town, was pretty terrible - no decent or even halfway decent hotel available, no camping possibilities either, on top of it all it was raining, so I ended up in a small guesthouse ($12) complete with rats, no water, and noise all night. Still, it's all down to experience!

All of northern Mozambique is FRELIMO country. General elections are to be held on Dec 2nd, and everywhere candidates were holding rallies and cruising around in loudspeaker chapas. I would have loved to understand what they were promising their voters.

Past Palma, the last 'town' in Mozambique - actually just a fishing harbour and market - and onto the border-access track (45km of deep sand). I reached the border at mid-morning and reached Tanzania's Mtwara at dusk. It took that long to cross the border, not because of paper difficulties but because of the Rovuma River crossing. But this is a tale for next time.

Coastal northern Mozambique is definitely worth a visit, and can be reached from Zambia without difficulty.

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