Ragnar's World: Rocking the boat

Last day on Catembe. I got up early to get into Maputo and also find a place to stay. Yesterday's internet search left me with nothing much. So I decided to give it another go today. I got into the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. "CRAP!" I thought. In 1997 I and my sister had been at the beach for a day in Peru. When we got back to the hotel, the receptionist started laughing and called us shrimps. The day after, we both looked and felt like boiled shrimps. Out of this world sunburnt. What I saw in the mirror was not the same, but still. Very obvious where the t-shirt had been and not. I had planned to walk on the beach to the ferry. But I realized that would not be an option now. I went down to the breakfast restaurant and had breakfast and did a final search for backpacker lodges in Maputo. I found one in Costa Do Solo. Promising name. I called them. They had vacant rooms. The internet site said 400 meticais for a room. Not too bad. I finished my breakfast. Went to the bank next door and changed some money into smaller bills. Nobody has any change here, so it was a necessity. After checking out, I waited for the taxi. After 10 minutes, a Nissan Micra that barely held together stopped outside. "My taxi I assume?" I asked the receptionist. She looked outside. "Yes! Come. Many times, he never comes at all. His taxi breaks down all the time." I got into the taxi and we were off. The roads were definitely in terrible condition, and it was no wonder his car shook, rattled and rolled. But we got to the ferry in one piece. I paid him, and went to the ticket office. I could choose between the small boats at 10 meticais (30 cents) or the cheap one at 5. The cheap one took three times as long and was even more cramped. I decided to splurge...
After standing in line for ten minutes, I got onboard. Found a seat on the deck. We launched just as the car ferry arrived. The boat tilted dangerously to one side. The captain stopped the boat and said something to a guy. He pointed at a big guy on one side of the deck and another, smaller on the other side. They laughed, switched places, and the boat stabilized. Oooooook... When we arrived on the Maputo side, people started getting up before they had stopped, and the whole boat tilted dangerously to one side. The people screamed to make people sit down again until the boat had stopped. Interesting trip, one might say.
I got off and walked into the city, looking for a taxi to take me to the hotel. I found a real cool guy with a taxi that reeked of air freshener. He studied the address I had written down, and asked for 500 meticais. I thought it was too much. But I didn't bother to discuss. Just wanted to get there. After a long drive, we entered an area which was an obvious affluent one. The home of SUVs, white folks and armed guards. Costa do Solo. We finally arrived at the hotel. I rang the bell, and after a few minutes, a woman came and opened the padlocked door. I got into the reception and asked how much a room was. "1800 meticais, sir". I stood there, trying to figure out what she was telling me. 4.5 times more expensive than what it said on internet. She pointed to a pricelist. I stood there looking at the pricelist. A dorm bed was 600. Still more than the price for a room listed on the internet. I chose the dorm bed. 50 dollars for a backpacker room? While she was preparing for me to sign in, I looked around and found a note from the ministry of tourism. It said "Max price for room, 1800 meticais". Ah! They have taken the max price as THE price. I have been in Mozambique for three days, and the prices I have seen so far are just ridiculous. And it seems like everyone is charging max of what they can. No wonder I haven't seen any backpackers yet. At my hotel in Catembe, the most expensive room cost $800 per night... And it seems like all the hotels are run by Portugese. Obviously lucurative business. I'm glad I am not a "real" backpacker on a shoestring budget. I would have been bankrupted in three days. Or would have to sleep on the beach under a palm tree. It is supposedly getting better as I head north. We'll see...
The ad on the internet said the hotel lay 50 meters from the beach. True. If you don't mind wearing shoes to avoid having your feet sliced by broken beer bottles and other garbage. So even though the beach was beautiful, I wasn't tempted to take a swin, although many of the locals were. Instead, I walked around the neighbourhood. Most of the area was under construction. Everywhere new houses and apartment blocks were erected. Homes with tall fences, some electrified, and armed guards, told the story of a division in wealth. I found a large shopping mall. I went to the Shoprite store to buy some groceries. Only the most affluent shopped here. With prices at Norwegian levels, who else could?
As I came out, the beach was warming up for the evening. Barbeques being lit. Meat and fish being prepared. Coolers with drinks set up. It all looked delicious, and if I wasn't leaving tomorrow, I would have taken the chance on eating there. A day on the toilet is bad, but sometimes it is worth the risk. But a day on the road with a bad stomach? Closest thing to hell on Earth. Been there, done that. We'll see later. Instead, I ended up on one of the many portugese-run restaurant. With $100 courses. I chose a pizza.
My chapa leaves tomorrow at 5.30. I have to go to bed early. I have stocked up on chokolates, bisquits and coke. Food for champions... It will be a 7-12 hour drive, so I need the calories to survive.
Not too many photos today. Not much to take photos of. And in these areas, one has to be careful. Most residents are very weary about anyone taking photos of them. There is a reason they have electrified fences around their homes...