Close encounter of the marine kind

I checked the clock on my cell phone. 5.15. I sighed. Some guys were having a party outside my hut. I was nowhere near well rested. After a while, they stopped the party and went back to sleep. At least it got quiet. I slept a few more hours, and got up. Today, I had decided to try an ocean safari, where we could see humpback whales, and snorkle with whalesharks and rays. If we could find them. I arrived at 10.30, the designated time. There was a small group of Portugese people and an Italian girl going on the same boat. We fitted for flippers and got a set of well worn snorkelling gear. I was hoping we would get the chance to swim with the whaleshark, but I knew the chances where slim. There aren't many left. They are easily hunted, since they swin near the surface (they feed off zoo-plancton) and move slowly. And thus they have been hunted to near extinction. Which is sad. We loaded our gear on a stranded v-bottom high-speed boat. A tractor pushed the boat into the water, and then we all had to pull together to get it floating. First the girls got in, then the men. The captain fired up the two outboard motors and soon we were screaming and jumping across the waves. There were footstraps to prevent us from falling overboard. After about ten minutes, the captain slowed down and the lookout started searching for anything in the water. Suddenly one of the portugese women screamed and pointed. A humpback whale jumped up and crashed down in a giant splash on the horizon. The captain fired up the engines and we raced towards where the whale was. We arrived a minute or two later. The engines where switched off. And we waited. Then suddenly we heard the unmistakable whooshing sound of a whale blowing. I turned and saw the backs of two whales maybe 50 meters away. I tried holding my camera steady for the shot, but with 2-meter waves rocking the boat. I needed time before I perfected the technique of compensating. So the first images where out of focus and out of line with the whales.
The captain and the lookout moved us back and forth, chasing the whales, and trying to see if he could find the price, the whaleshark. Unfortunately, this day, it eluded us. Since we had all been sitting in the boat the whole time, the guide told us that we could get into the water above a coral reef. The water wasn't too clear, so he didn't know how much we could see, but at least we could try it out. He warned us of the strong currents. Laura, the Italian girl, touched the water with her feet and almost screamed. "It is sooo cold!" I smiled. "This is warm compared to the sea in the summer in Norway. So if you think this is cold, you would freeze to death in Norway." I said and jumped in. It was lovely. Laura jumped in beside me. She moaned. But put on her snorkelling equipment and started swimming. I didn't see much. I saw there was something below, but couldn't see what. Without glasses, and a bit unclear water, I was practically blind.
I swam around a bit, always checking every now and then to see that I was near the boat. Then at one point, I swam towards land. And after maybe a minute, I looked up and the boat was gone. I looked around and saw that the strong currents had puched me several hundred meters away in an instant. I spent a lot of time and energy to swim back. When I finally arrived back at the boat, it was time to go. We strapped down and screamed across the waves. On the way back, we stopped once more to see a humpback surfacing. We sat there quietly and watched for it to surface. Suddenly we heard it blow just beside the boat. I managed to get a few shots between the guys sitting on that side of the boat.
Then we were going back to shore. The captain stopped the boat a few hundred meters from the shore so the guide could prepare us for landing procedures. "We will ram the boat at full speed onto the beach. So you have to hold on tight both with footstraps and holding on to the side." I and Laura looked at eachother and smiled. "This will be interesting!" The driver hit the gas and accellerated to full speed. We surfed on a couple of waves and just before the beach, we were lifted high by a wave and crashed down on the beach and stopped in an instant. Then the boat tipped over to my side. "Get out! Quick!" the guide called out. We all got out, and walked towards the dive center. The guide brought all our stuff. I said bye to Laura and headed back to my hut. Had a shower and went to the restaurant for a delicious meal of fried barracuda and chips. Yummy!
The images today are, of course, of humpbacks. Sorry for the somewhat wavy nature of the images...

El cheapo chapa for Tofo

In my dreams I suddenly heard a buzzing sound. I tried to locate it. But didn't get it. It wasn't part of my dream. Suddenly, my brain kicked in the awaken mode, and I realized it was my cell phone telling me it was time to get up. I blinked a few hundred times before My eyes got enough wet to stay open. I got up. Thought about a shower for a second before dropping the idea. Didn't smell too bad anyways. I packed my bag and left the room. The night guard greeted me as I entered the livingroom. I sat down on the sofa and waited for the chapa to arrive. Almost one hour later, a taxi arrived. I had fallen asleep on the couch. I got up and drowsily walked outside. I looked at the taxi. "This?" I asked the nightwatch. He nodded. "Yes! Tofo!". Ok. Whatever. I got in the back seat. I tried to do the math on how this trip would be economical. Four seats at 500 meticais each equals bankcrupcy. So I was wondering if I was paying 700 dollars and not metacais. But before I managed to think everything through, the taxi stopped behind a minibus. "The bus, boos!" That made more sense.
I got out and got on the bus. A bunch of white folks was already on. I said "Good morning!" and got a drowsy grunt in reply. I put my backpack on the stack in front of the bus, and sat down in the seat by the door. It normally has the space to allow me to stretch my feet. Then we ere off. I looked around and notices how much space we had on the bus. First stop was the bus station. To get more people on the bus. And now it felt more like the normal cheap buses. More people got on. With half their belongings with them. At least that's what it looked like. So soon the bus as jampacked with people and goods. We were ready to move. But not before the driver had stuffed our backpacks behind the back seat. And I mean STUFFED. The whole bus rocked as he tried to squeeze as many bags as possible in. I started worrying about my pc and camera, but decided that if they were broken, removing my bag now wouldn't help anyway. So I let it be. Hakuna matata.
And thus our el cheapo chapa thundered across the N1 north to our destination. Only stopping to drop somebody off and picking up others, or at one of the 637 police checkpoints. We also stopped twice for a reststop and stretching out our squeeky joints. Ultimately, after almost 8 hours on the road, the bus came to a stop that looked to me as the end of the road. Literally. It turned and I thought it had taken a wrong turn. Until I saw the smiling face of a guy by the road. "Welcome!". The driver had taken us straight to one of the backpacker lodges in Tofo. I decided to call around to the other places I had on the list. They were unfirtunately far away, and had the same prices. SO I decided to stay. The place was right at the sea. And the view was postcard-like, so I could not complain. And the beach was clean. I got myself a small hut to myself. It was nice. The floor was covered in fine sand. Most likely from the beach. Hard not to drag it in with you when you enter. I liked it.
I was still a bit tired, so I just dropped my bag on the floor and my body on the bed and fell asleep. Woke up again around 4 and headed for the restaurant to have something to drink and write this blog. I had just started when a Dutch girl, Anna, sat down beside me. We started talking, and ended up talking the whole evening. So thus no blog entry yesterday...

Today, I woke up late. Me legs had been a feast for the mosquitos during the night. Despite net and tons of bug repellent. I guess my blood is too tasty... I had a shower and washed my clothes before heading for the reastaurant for som breakfast. A lovely omelet with chorizos. Afterwards I sat down with Anna and chatted with her for a while. She was going diving, so I decided to walk to the bank to change some money. It was a good walk. 1.5 hours each way. The bank was in the same building as a shop and a petrol station. Nothing else around it. Two people behind the counter. One where I filled in a form for the exchange, and the next where I got the money. I had to smile when the guy behind the first counter told me "Go to next counter to exchange!". That is : Move 2 feet to the right. After changing money, I went to the store next door and bought some snacks for the walk back. On the way back, I realized where the market Anna told me about was. So I went there to check it out. It was a very typical "special price for you, sir!"-market. Marked with big friendly letters "Shopping centre". Mozambiquan style. :-) They sold t-shirts, alkohol, fruits, and bom-bom-baby. None of which was in my field of interest at the moment.
I got back to my hut, and changed to swimming shorts. I wanted to try the water. The temperature was ok. About 24 degrees. The waves, though, took me a bit by surprice. They were sometimes HUGE. And tumbled me around. And tore my bathing shorts almost clean off. So I had to pull them up again constantly. Luckily, the beach is mostly deserted. Don't like to moon. After swallowing about a gallon of seawater and having mooned about a ten times, I decided to get out. Went back to my hut and had a shower before sitting down in my deck-chair, listeing to music from the bar, combined with the rushing of the waves on the beach below. A gentle breeze soothing me. Sometimes, life is good. And sometimes, it is worth cramping on a bus for 8 hours to get there...

My humble abode, with three beds and a bathroom

Moonlit beach before I got to bed

View from my deckchair

Road to our hotel

Not our bus

How to spot a backpacker haven

A village I passed while walking

Shopping centre

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...

The area around my hotel is a veritable construction site

Nuts for coconuts? This is your place!

Beautiful, but packed with trash. Unfortunately.

But the locals like it.

The way north

Shops for the poor...

... and the rich.

Martian soil in Africa.

Old mailbox that stood on one of the streets i walked. 

My hotel.

Street near my hotel.

The hotel dog greeted me when I came.

A walk on the beach

I woke up fairly early. Had slept like a baby most of the night. It was great. The first streams of light from the sun rising in the west forced their way into the room. I decided to sleep in a bit longer. But about an hour later, I heard a noise that I assumed was coming from something of the local wildlife. A weird sound. I let it go. Closed my eyes and drowsed on. Around 9 I got up and had a shower, before going down for breakfast. Then I found the source of the sound. It was a powertool. They were renovating part of the hotel... I smiled.
There was a low tide. The restaurant at the end of the pier stood more or less on dry land. I was greeted by an ever polite waiter who invited me to sit wherever I liked, and eat whatever was on the buffet. I sat down by the window. Looked out towards Maputo, and the beach ahead. Beautiful view. But one thing I have found now is I regret not bringing a weater. I actually contemplated bringing a thin woolen sweater I have. But decided against it. If it weren't for the constant breeze, the temperature would have been great. But the breeze makes it slightly chilly. So I have to sit inside in the evening and morning. Before the temperature reaches 20C or thereabout. Then it's actually quite pleasant.
After breakfast, I had one prioritized task : getting certified copies of my passport and visa. The people here in Mozambique are on the whole very friendly and polite. But there is one group of people you should avoid at all cost : the police. They will rob you blind if they find any reason to do so. And they will. Actually, it is so bad that if you HAVE to go to the police station to fill in a report for insurance reasons, it is recommended that your bring as little valuables as possible. It has happened that people have come to the station, bringing lots of valuables, the police has arrested them for some made up crime and thrown them in a cell. Then robbed them blind and thrown them out. So therefore, I need a certified copy of passport and visa. If I had given them my passport, they might claim that something is wrong with the stamp or visa, and demand bribes to "ignore your crime". And of course, you need your passport. So they have you in a legal headlock. With a copy, they can do nothing. Telling them that you'll call the embassy might help, but not always. The advice is to avoid the police at all cost. But they normally roam around popular backpacker hotels and bus stations. So it is almost impossible to avoid them. But one should always try to stay where there a lots of others. They don't like to let others see what they are doing.
The receptionist copied my passport and the visa and called a hotel guard to take me to a notary office across the road. In the office, three ladies sat at each of their own desk. Obviously doing nothing. The guard showed me a chair where the upholstry was more gone than not. I sat down and felt my butt sinking through the whole seat. The first one took my passport and the copies, examined them. Stamped them. Then brought them to the lady with the biggest desk. She looked at it. Stamped it. The papers were brought to the third lady with the second biggest desk, and she looked at them, stamped them and signed. Then the first lady stamped them alot and signed all the stamps. 15 meticais please. About 50 cents. I gave her a 200 note. She sighed. The guard took the money and walked to the bank, which was next to the hotel. He came back and payed her and gave me the rest. We walked back to the hotel. I thanked him and went to my room to drop off my passport before heading out. I was going to go for a beach walk.
When I arrived yesterday, the receptionist asked whether I had walked on the beach to the hotel. I found the question a bit odd. But today I saw a lot of people doing that today. And I see why. The roads are in terrible condition, and the beach is leveled every high tide. So it is always in good condition. I decided to walk down to the ferry landing. People on the beach where preparing their nets for the tide to come in. Children were playing. People drove motorbikes. Dows and other boats sat on the beach waiting for the tide to lift them. Millions of sandcrabs had dug into the sand and dropping their sand-balls all over. I managed to take some photos of them before they disappeared into their holes. At the ferry landing, long lines of people where waiting to be crammed into the small boats crossing the bay. And cars waited for the large ferry to arrive to take them across. I took some photos of dows passing, the ferries coming and going, and a guy sitting on the dock fishing.
Beside the ferry landing, there is a small collection of bars and shops. And people walking to and fro selling stuff from baskets they are carrying. I wanted to find some bug spray for my journey. I found it in a small convenience store. When I was standing there, a young boy came to me and started to speak English to me. He asked me if I came over from Maputo. I said I lived in a hotel on the peninsula. "I work at your hotel!" he said and smiled. "Of course you do!" I said. That one was old three days after the first hotel was invented. He wanted to be my guide. I politely declined. He followed me around. I stopped at a local bar to have a coke. He jumped to my "rescue" and told me how much it would cost. I smiled. Put the money on the table. Then he started asking for money. I didn't like it, but I guess it is better to be a guide, than a thief...
After having refreshed myself on the coke, I decided to walk back the same way I came. Even thought the scene was the same, it was enjoyable. Almost back at the hotel, an army guy walked past me. I looked at him as we passed eachother, and he saluted me. I smiled a bit startld.
Back in the restaurant, I decided to try one of the Mozambiquan specialities. Seafood. I tried a shrimp cocktail. Normally, I would have been a bit weary about eating any such meal in many countries, but I know that here, it is always served fresh. And it was fresh. And delicious. With a wonderful sauce on a bed of vegetables. Yummy.
After the late lunch, I decided to use the last of the daylight to shoot some of the areas around the hotel. I walked whichever street I felt like and met people who smiled and waved. "Hello boss!" "Bom dia, boss!" I enjoyed it and only returned to my hotel because the sun was setting in the west. Killing the light. Not only for the camera, but also for me.
The past two days have been enjoyable. I am glad I went so far off from Maputo. Instead of shock-treatment, I smoothed into the country. Settling in after a long journey. It has been relaxing and pleasant. And I hope this has given me the energy I need to tackle the rest of the journey. Tomorrow, I am checking out and venturing into Maputo. My original plan was to go there today and buy a bus ticket for tomorrow morning. But today I decided to skip it, and spend one day in Maputo in som backpacker hotel. Then leave on Wednesday. Haven't yet decided where. But will do some surfing tonight for some ideas.
I have only included a small selection of todays images. Enjoy!

View at breakfast

Low tide

Small fish to fry

Sand crabs digging for their life to escape the giant

Beached dows

Waiting for the tide

Cattle walking on the beach

"Nice beach property for sale. Some upgrades needed..."

Ferry

Dow in the wind

Waiting for the catch of the day

Church next to my hotel

Local shop

Typical home in Catembe

A room with a view

Finally arrived at my hotel. It is located in the Catembe area on the other side of the bay from Maputo. A more peaceful spot outside of the bustling city. Perfect for my first nights. The trip was long, and I didn't sleep much on the plane. As usual. I never do. The massive turbulence that threw us around in the air, didn't exactly help.
Most of the trip was event-less. Just airports, checking in and flying. And the usual fight for baggage rights in the overhead lockers, the crying kids and the over-sized people in the seat next to me. It wasn't until Nairobi it got really interesting. We arrived more or less on time. And where bussed along to a stair that we had to scale to get into the terminal. Like it has always been as long as I can remember. But with the interesting new feature that we had to fight for space with people going OUT to some airplane. I got into the terminal and found it just as adrenalin-rushing, bustling and claustrophobic as always. I found that my flight to Maputo would depart from gate 12. I checked in, and sat in the checkin-area. Suddenly everybody got up and started walking out to the boarding gate. Only to find out that there was another flight from the same gate at the same time. For Kigali in Rwanda... So we were stopped by the people in the door. We had to wait until the people for Kigali had left. And they took their sweet time arriving. When we finally were allowed to board the buses for our flight, the time was more or less the original departure time. "Oh well", I thought and smiled. "African time! Hakuna matata!". I looked at my ticked as the shuttle bus stopped outside the airplane. 16J. 16J? I looked at the obviously too small plane for such a seat number. In a regional jet liner? What were the seats like? 3 inches wide? I thought maybe the delay was in order to change from big to small airplane. But realized when boarding they only used four letters with BIG spacing. If it isn't big, make it sound bigger spacing the letters...
Half an hour after original departure time. They had finished boarding. Now the captain came on the speakers. There were some "VIP movement" on Maputo airport, so they had closed it for security reason until the VIP's had stopped moving. So we had to sit on the tarmac for another 30 minutes before taking off. Ah well... I sat there, looking at the people going about their business on the tarmac. Tractors pulling carts of luggage. Personnel talking and joking. I fell asleep.
I jumped when the sharp voice from the cockpit screamed in the speakers. We were ready to depart. An hour late. The plane roared into the air and I sat watching the houses of Nairobi disappearing in the morning mist below. The plane shook and jumped as we roared through the clouds. Soon we popped out into the blue skies above. I tried to sleep some more. But found it hard. Especially as the clouds broke up underneath us, and we could see the peak(s) of Kilimanjaro peeping out of the clouds. The red-brown landscape below. Lake Malawi. Smaller towns and cities. Rivers. I love watching this.
A few hours in the air and Maputo appeared below. It was bigger than I thought. But most of it was miles upon miles of houses arranged in rows and columns around the core on the horizon. I looked down as the plane descended steeply into the airport. The airport lay smack dab in the middle of the city. We hit the tarmac 55 minutes late. The plane rumbled across the uneven surface before it came to a stop outside the terminal building. Everybody off. Into a arrival area. I needed a visa, so I got into the visa line. Which was the longest, and the slowest. If this had been at home, my heart would be racing. But here, in Africa, on vacation, hakuna matata. I sighed. My body needed to adjust to the new tempo of vacation. Normally takes a few days. An older lady in front of me, holding a UN passport, asked me why the other queues were so much shorter. "They have visas. This is for those with no visa." I explained. "Ah! She smiled. I already HAVE a visa! Thank you!" she said and left the queue.
After half an hour in line, I was allowed to pay my $78 for a visa. They took my photo. I almost laughed when I saw it. I had blinked as they took it. So I looked like had smoked something not recommended by the chief surgeon. My eyes just two thin slits. Whatever.
I was now allowed to stand in the line for passport control. I handed over my passport. The guy looked at it. "Norway. Is that in America?" I shook my head and started saying something. "Asia?" he tried again. I shook my head and started saying something again. "Europe?" he interrupted and looked at me almost surprised. I nodded. "North Europe" i said. "Scandinavia?" he asked. I nodded. He smiled. "Ah. I know!" he said. I smiled and nodded. Of course you did. He stamped my passport and gave it to me. I had to put my bag through an x-ray machine before I was allowed to leave. Nobody looked at the screen, so I'm not sure why they wanted to fry it. I got out and finally found an older guy with a sign from my hotel. I smiled. He smiled. "Ragnar" I said. "No!" he said. "Catembe hotel?" I said. He smiled and nodded. At least we agreed on that. I just remembered that I needed to change money. I changed a fistful of dollars. And he took me to his car. An old Toyota. I tried talking, but his English wasn't too good and my Portuguese is practically non-existing.
Me : "How many people live in Maputo?"
Him : "Many, yes!"
Me : "How many?"
Pause
Him : "Many thousand!"
Me : "Impressive!"
Him : "Yes..."
His driving was spastic. Full throttle, then flat out brakes before every crossroad. After a short and not to conversatory drive, we arrived at the ferry to take me to Catembe across the bay. "I call hotel! They have somebody to pick you up other side!" my driver said. I saw the line to the ferry, and given the size of the ferry, I expected the wait to be long. Then the driver waved me along "Here boss!" he said. And we walked past the whole queue. I hate this. But what to do? I tried not to look anybody in the eyes. Too embarrassing. When we arrived at the ferry, the ticketer shoved everybody aside. "Here boss!" he said and pointed into an overcrowded boat. I got on board. Then there was a short discussion between him and the boat driver. Then I was taken out and led to a new boat, where I was shoved first in line. "Here boss!", "there boss!", "come boss!". Finally, I sat down on a bench on the deck. We were off. There was a nice breeze as we crossed the bay. On the other side, I started looking for someone to pick me up. I walked to and fro, and found nobody interested enough to assume it was a driver. So in the end, I just started walking. It was a nice three km walk. People smiling and greeting me. "How are you friend?" "Fine thank you!". Children smiling and saying "hi". People in local bars smiling and laughing when I passed. I just smiled back at them.
After half an hour or so, I arrived at the hotel. The receptionist apologized. He had sent the driver, but he didn't find me. He had tried to call me twice. I checked my phone and found it indeed to be the case. I just hadn't heard. Oh, well. It was a nice walk. I had been sitting on airplanes for a total of 16 hours, so I didn't mind the walk. And since the temperature wasn't any worse than a normal summer day in Oslo. It wasn't too bad either.
My room is small, but it has a nice view of the beach below. The area is quiet. Only the gentle singing of crickets can be heard when the music in the restaurant is off. And the gentle breeze blowing through the trees. And the waves splashing towards the beach. It is wonderful. I am glad I opted for staying two nights here. Relaxing after 31 hours on the move.
"When a man loves a woman" sounds on the speakers. The cool, gentle breeze outside gives the air a smell of freshness. I am looking forward to a good nights sleep. And refreshed for new adventures tomorrow. Across the bay, I see the lights of Maputo. Above, the skies are clear and the stars are out. The full moon lights up the haze in the air. Blocking what could have been a wonderful starry sky here from this peninsula. But who's complaining?

Nairobi airport. Waiting for the light to flash. Ever.

The breakfast restaurant at the hotel

Shadow parasols on the beach

View across the bay towards Maputo

My hotel

The beach

From the balcony by night

Going, going, gone!

Summer is here. Vacation is nearing, and I am ready to head out. Looking for new adventures. New land. This year, Africa is the main theme, although I added a small surprise on Wednesday. A country I didn't believe I would be able to go to. But that's for a later update...
But first : Mozambique and Malawi. Two countries in the southern part of Africa. I have been thinking about going to Mozambique for many years. But for different reasons, I never got around to it. I still have a Lonely Planet book for Mozambique, Zambia and Malawi I bought 12 years ago. When I was in Zambia to see a Sun eclipse. That's when I started thinking about it. Now, twelve years later, I am going. Since it is an old book, there are bound to be a lot of changes, so I have read up on the current state of things. And there are of course changes. Mostly on the numbers of tourists. Still comparable little to the "big ones" like Kenya, but still. So the biggest question is how much have changed? And what?
I know from experience that things can, and do, change dramatically in "new" tourist countries. When the influx of tourists increase, things do change. Countries that used to be benign, become "touristy" in that the people change their attitudes towards foreigners. And sadly, it is mostly due to travelers who have little or no sensitivity to the local cultures and traditions. I have seen this several times, and have probably done some thoughtless things myself. Things that might seem insignificant to us, or even things done with the best of intentions, may trigger changes that nobody had foreseen or wanted. But they do change something. People, attitudes, cultures. We often talk about not destroying the environment when we travel. Maybe we also should do the same for the people and cultures we meet?
As usual, I will travel alone. A colleague in the prison group I lead sat talking with me about my upcoming travel, while we waited for the inmates. He asked me : "Do you prefer to travel alone?" I thought for a few moments before I said "Not really. I actually prefer travelling company. But most of the times when I have asked, people have said no. Because it was either the wrong time of the year, or the 'wrong' destination. So now, I have just stopped asking."
But most of the time, I end up meeting people on the way. Some for a dinner and a chat. Some I have traveled with for a short while. Some I have stayed in touch with. Some have become friends. They constitute some of the best things that can happen on a journey.
Soon, I am off. My travelling feet are tingling. Eager to tread new soil. My eyes to endulge in new images. My mouth to taste new food. My ears to hear new languages and music. And my nose flairing for new smells.
Going, going, gone!

Ragnar
Enthusiastic globetrotter