Wednesday 28th October - Thursday 29th October 2009
Days 122 - 123
The Ilala Ferry is legendary in Malawi. This colossal cargo ship travels northbound once a week up Lake Malawi taking three days. We wanted a piece of Ilala action but the problem was it left on Friday and today was Wednesday. We were a long way from the Malawi border let alone Monkey Bay at the southern tip of the lake where the boat departed.
The plan was to travel by chapas to Beira 450km north of Vilankulo. From here we would take an afternoon internal flight to Tete, the closest city to the Malawian border where we'd somehow get to the border, hopefully get through ok and travel the remaining 400km north to Monkey Bay. This was a big ask.
We woke at 3.30am and took the 4.30am chapas to Beira. We actually set off in daylight with ridiculously early sunrises the norm in Mozambique at this time of year. Whilst we had the leg room thanks to the luxuary of a trailer on this chapas we were sat directly above the engine so were utterly sweltering in the heat. Our mind was taken off this thankfully by the buzz of activity in all the villages with today election day. There was also the other distraction of the chickens making an appearance shortly into the trip.
The roads were appalling with chapas-sized potholes causing the driver to via off the road at times. On one occasion he hit a pot hole with an almighty bang. He stopped the vehicle with our hearts pounding as we'd left very little room to manouvre between arriving in Beira and catching our flight. We then heard a hammer clinking and feared the worst. However, on getting out of the vehicle we were relieved to see it was actually the vehicle behind us that had the problem. Our driver had just kindly stopped to help.
Onwards we pressed with bum in the numb stage of travel and sleep simply not possible on this bumpy ride.
We arrived in Beira, retreived our bags and got a taxi to the derelict airport. Here we boarded our plane with the four other passengers from Beira to Tete.
On arrival in Tete we haggled down a cab driver to take us to some accomodation. He offered us a good price to get us to the border the next day. With the sun setting over the Zambesi river en route to our hotel we felt we were on track but were still unsure of transport in Malawi.
Our hotel was frankly disgusting. It was the hotel equivalent of Trainspotting's toilet scene. We longed for our tent. Tete itself was full of drunk locals maybe celebrating or drowning their sorrows over the election result. We found a bar where we humoured some hammered blokes called Mario and Moses. 'The question iz diz....The question iz diz.......What iz the question?' Moses slurred. This was about the most sense we got from them. Nice chaps though.
The next morning we were picked up by Ibrihim who picked up his dolled up wife for the trip. We crawled back over the bridge crossing the Zambesi which opened at 7am having been closed overnight. We then pushed on through secluded villages on sparse roads potholed in places but mainly tidily tarmaced which pleased our all too anxious driver careful not to damage his modified Mitsibushi.
On border arrival we battled through the swarm of black market money exchangers and got stamped out of the country into no mans land which covered 5km between Mozambique and Malawi. We picked up a reduced rate cab with passenger door loosely hanging by its hinges and were dropped at Malawian immigration.
Once through we were put into the sticky paws of two young drivers Oscar and Godfrey. Over the course of the journey our relationship with these lads turned into a rollercoaster ride. It started well before spiralling as they became all too greedy en route attempting to scam more money out of us. We weren't best pleased but over the course of this ride managed to compromise and get them to drive us further than the closest town to a major junction town two hours away which benefitted their pockets and our travel comfort to Lake Malawi.
They felt we'd haggled them down too much but couldn't refuse the extra cash so were a little moody. However a coke apiece and long football conversation got them back onside allowing an insight into their real personalities and not just the opportunistic taxi drivers. We left them with smiles, shakes off the hand and a tip as we clambered on board a 30 seater bus which would take us the remainder of the journey. We had timed it perfectly arriving at the junction just as the bus was setting off. The boys had done us proud.
After many stops we arrived in Monkey Bay around 4pm where we enquired about the ferry the next day (all ok) and found a quaint half finished accomodation in an idyllic setting offering camping at a cheap rate. We spent the night in this quaint little cove releived to be back in the tent and a beautiful setting. A far cry from last night. Here we listened to the owner talk about his big plans for the site. Next door was the presidents holiday home which gives you some idea of the goldmine he was sitting on. A lot of work and red tape involved though.
We'd made it and tomorrow would set off on the Ilala ferry up Lake Malawi at 10.30am.
Showing posts with label mozambique. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mozambique. Show all posts
Sunday, November 8, 2009
A mozy around Mozambique
Friday 23rd October 2009 - Tuesday 27th October 2009
Days 117 - 121
Mozambique was over all too quickly as we sped up the coast in a tin can public chapas - or minibus to you and I. The luxuary coach from Johannesburg to Mozambique's capital Maputo was the last bit of comfortable transport we would experience for quite a while. Unlike the coach you don't get ample leg room in a chapas. In fact the only way of achieving comfort is to have your kneecaps surgically removed. You don't get cute kids playing peekyboo from the seat in front of you like we did on the coach. The only interaction is with the live chickens being dangled by their feet by the large Mozambiquan ladies squished either side of you as a beak brushes your foot. And you certainly don't get a Hollywood blockbuster like Bulletproof Monk being shown on TV as we did on the coach. Try UB40 on dodgy cassette.
But in saying all this the chapas were good fun and it felt somewhat liberating to be back on public transport with our belongings firmly strapped to our backs meeting fellow travellers and locals alike.
In fact we ended up travelling up the south east coast of Mozambique with the travellers equivelent of a supergroup. This was made up of Belgian Franek (prennounced Frank) a seasoned traveller who had been there and done it in some of the most crazy no-go destinations and was now cycling up Africa alone; and a New York couple who had every gizmo and gadget under the sun. Nicky an English girl with Polish heritage and Mike from DC but with Equadorian ancestory. In fact the last Equadorian I met was Villa's Ulisses De La Cruz in a white muscle vest on Birmingham's Broad Street.
Mozambique truly was a different kettle of fish. The women curvacious and the blokes stacked with ear to ear grins. The country itself 20 million in population stretching thinly up the south east corner of southern Africa had strong Portugese influence speaking the lingo as their first language, loving their footy and most importantly piri piri being their condament of choice. What's more the country oozes natural talent in the beach department.
Not sticking around the capital Maputo we set off at 5.30am the following morning to Tofo, eight hours north in a chapas to a huge beach home to surfers, divers and anybody else that enjoys a bloody good beach. We camped on grounds located literally on the beach, we swam in the sea, ate seafood, we watched Wolves Villa (ok not as glamarous as the previous) but our time here was pathetically short as we reluctantly continued up north.
This next leg pretty much summed up travel in Africa.
We started our journey at 7am where we waited for a chapas to be loaded before getting to the nearest big town Inhambane 15km away where we walked 500 metres to the port to wait an hour or two for a ferry to take us across a 2km stretch of water to Maxixe. Here after lunch we boarded chapas number two which slowly filled up with people to breaking point before travelling at a painstakingly slow speed north, bones chattering over the corrugated roads from plugged potholes, chickens crying with pain largegly down to the awful 80s music blarring through the stereo until five hours later with 250km covered we arrived in Vilankulo.
Vilankulo itself was a bit rough especially with lots of boozed up blokes around celebrating some kind of election party gathering. However, the next day we arranged an overnight trip to the Bazaruto Archepolagio. A series of islands where the fish-filled turquoise sea was asking to be snorkelled and fished in. We travelled around in a dhow camping out not altogether legitimately on a tiny island with one lonely tree.
The next day we were back in Vilankulo where we had a lot of the day to organize our onward travel which involved a journey up Lake Malawi on the Ilala ferry which was primarily a cargo boat which took passengers too. The problem was we'd left ourselves little time to get to the ferry which left weekly. It would prove to be an interesting and adventurous race for the boat.
Not suitable for parents
Unfortunately a sour taste was left in the mouth that evening as two lads hassled the girls for money as they walked out of a materials shop close to the beach. Fortunately Mike had advised we stick around so were able to use the five of us to outnumber the two crims. Still they persisted following us with lines like 'I am a gangster,' 'Don't make me shoot you' and my favourite 'I will show you what we can do.' Fortunately for us they were all mouth and didn't show us what they could do which I sense was not all that much.
Days 117 - 121
Mozambique was over all too quickly as we sped up the coast in a tin can public chapas - or minibus to you and I. The luxuary coach from Johannesburg to Mozambique's capital Maputo was the last bit of comfortable transport we would experience for quite a while. Unlike the coach you don't get ample leg room in a chapas. In fact the only way of achieving comfort is to have your kneecaps surgically removed. You don't get cute kids playing peekyboo from the seat in front of you like we did on the coach. The only interaction is with the live chickens being dangled by their feet by the large Mozambiquan ladies squished either side of you as a beak brushes your foot. And you certainly don't get a Hollywood blockbuster like Bulletproof Monk being shown on TV as we did on the coach. Try UB40 on dodgy cassette.
But in saying all this the chapas were good fun and it felt somewhat liberating to be back on public transport with our belongings firmly strapped to our backs meeting fellow travellers and locals alike.
In fact we ended up travelling up the south east coast of Mozambique with the travellers equivelent of a supergroup. This was made up of Belgian Franek (prennounced Frank) a seasoned traveller who had been there and done it in some of the most crazy no-go destinations and was now cycling up Africa alone; and a New York couple who had every gizmo and gadget under the sun. Nicky an English girl with Polish heritage and Mike from DC but with Equadorian ancestory. In fact the last Equadorian I met was Villa's Ulisses De La Cruz in a white muscle vest on Birmingham's Broad Street.
Mozambique truly was a different kettle of fish. The women curvacious and the blokes stacked with ear to ear grins. The country itself 20 million in population stretching thinly up the south east corner of southern Africa had strong Portugese influence speaking the lingo as their first language, loving their footy and most importantly piri piri being their condament of choice. What's more the country oozes natural talent in the beach department.
Not sticking around the capital Maputo we set off at 5.30am the following morning to Tofo, eight hours north in a chapas to a huge beach home to surfers, divers and anybody else that enjoys a bloody good beach. We camped on grounds located literally on the beach, we swam in the sea, ate seafood, we watched Wolves Villa (ok not as glamarous as the previous) but our time here was pathetically short as we reluctantly continued up north.
This next leg pretty much summed up travel in Africa.
We started our journey at 7am where we waited for a chapas to be loaded before getting to the nearest big town Inhambane 15km away where we walked 500 metres to the port to wait an hour or two for a ferry to take us across a 2km stretch of water to Maxixe. Here after lunch we boarded chapas number two which slowly filled up with people to breaking point before travelling at a painstakingly slow speed north, bones chattering over the corrugated roads from plugged potholes, chickens crying with pain largegly down to the awful 80s music blarring through the stereo until five hours later with 250km covered we arrived in Vilankulo.
Vilankulo itself was a bit rough especially with lots of boozed up blokes around celebrating some kind of election party gathering. However, the next day we arranged an overnight trip to the Bazaruto Archepolagio. A series of islands where the fish-filled turquoise sea was asking to be snorkelled and fished in. We travelled around in a dhow camping out not altogether legitimately on a tiny island with one lonely tree.
The next day we were back in Vilankulo where we had a lot of the day to organize our onward travel which involved a journey up Lake Malawi on the Ilala ferry which was primarily a cargo boat which took passengers too. The problem was we'd left ourselves little time to get to the ferry which left weekly. It would prove to be an interesting and adventurous race for the boat.
Not suitable for parents
Unfortunately a sour taste was left in the mouth that evening as two lads hassled the girls for money as they walked out of a materials shop close to the beach. Fortunately Mike had advised we stick around so were able to use the five of us to outnumber the two crims. Still they persisted following us with lines like 'I am a gangster,' 'Don't make me shoot you' and my favourite 'I will show you what we can do.' Fortunately for us they were all mouth and didn't show us what they could do which I sense was not all that much.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Kruger Park - a glorified West Midlands Safari Park?
Saturday 17th October - Thursday 22nd October 2009
Day 111 - 116
Why go to Kruger Park I hear you ask when you've got Twycross Zoo, Drayton Manor Park & Zoo and West Midlands Safari Park on your doorstep in Birmingham?
The difference is in Kruger the animals were there first with the park set up as a huge conservation effort to protect the area and its wildlife. Oh yeah - Kruger Park is also the size of Wales.
Kruger was good fun. As well as seeing elephants and buffalo up close(a little too close for my liking actually) we still hadn't seen any lions or leopards. In fact the only cat we'd seen so far was Pushka, Roni and Ivor's Siamese. However, we got to see lions at Kruger which was an honour.
Out of the park we drove up into the mountains with a quick stop off at Blyde River Canyon (the third largest canyon in the world) before finding a delightful little campspot set on the Sabie River which flows into the park. It was so delightful we ended up staying for two nights.
We're currently back at our friends Roni and Ivor's place in Johannesburg getting spoilt rotten with their fantastic hospitality. We've managed to get loads sorted for our onwards travel and also said a sad farewell to the Yaris who we handed back 9,973 kilometres worse off than when we picked it up. Solid as a rock she was!
Tomorrow morning we strap our backpacks firmly on and set off to pastures new. Maputo, the capital of Mozambique is our next destination with the plan to travel north up the coast before cutting inland towards Malawi. That's the plan anyway....
Without a car this feels like a new chapter in our travels and we're both really looking forward to this next step into the unknown. Speak soon.
Day 111 - 116
Why go to Kruger Park I hear you ask when you've got Twycross Zoo, Drayton Manor Park & Zoo and West Midlands Safari Park on your doorstep in Birmingham?
The difference is in Kruger the animals were there first with the park set up as a huge conservation effort to protect the area and its wildlife. Oh yeah - Kruger Park is also the size of Wales.
Kruger was good fun. As well as seeing elephants and buffalo up close(a little too close for my liking actually) we still hadn't seen any lions or leopards. In fact the only cat we'd seen so far was Pushka, Roni and Ivor's Siamese. However, we got to see lions at Kruger which was an honour.
Out of the park we drove up into the mountains with a quick stop off at Blyde River Canyon (the third largest canyon in the world) before finding a delightful little campspot set on the Sabie River which flows into the park. It was so delightful we ended up staying for two nights.
We're currently back at our friends Roni and Ivor's place in Johannesburg getting spoilt rotten with their fantastic hospitality. We've managed to get loads sorted for our onwards travel and also said a sad farewell to the Yaris who we handed back 9,973 kilometres worse off than when we picked it up. Solid as a rock she was!
Tomorrow morning we strap our backpacks firmly on and set off to pastures new. Maputo, the capital of Mozambique is our next destination with the plan to travel north up the coast before cutting inland towards Malawi. That's the plan anyway....
Without a car this feels like a new chapter in our travels and we're both really looking forward to this next step into the unknown. Speak soon.
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