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Published: July 20th 2006
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Peeking at the border post.
Photographing anything remotely official in Mozi is strictly forbidden and usually results in a camera and wallet shakedown. We got away with this one. From Swaziland we entered Mozambique with surprising ease and were glad that we had taken the time to organise our visas in advance. The three Yankees who hadn't thought to do this had to wait about 45 minutes and also had to endure the impatient stares and mutterings of the local passengers. Although we only crossed a political border the landscape and atmosphere changed immediately. It became even more tropical with mangrove swamps, palm trees and banana plantations yet at the same time remained quite rugged and barren. Scattered everywhere were shells of buildings, derelict villages and burnt out and or stripped down cars, all remnants of the very recent civil war that ravaged Mozambique for nearly 20 years. Before we knew it we were in Maputo and after giving our mini bus driver the golden handshake he drove us to our BP, Fatimas. Fatimas was an absolute dump and in very similar condition to many of the derelict buildings we'd already seen. The camping area was a small patch of concrete next to the entrance at the front of the property and between the dormitory and main road with only a threadbare grass fence protecting us from the outside world.
Maputo Hilton
Shells and derelict buildings outnumber the rest in Maputo This ensured that our two nights at Fatimas were very noisy, sleepless and uncomfortable. We waisted no time at what was the worst place we'd stayed at so far and armed with our pidgeon Portuguese and several hundred thousand meticaish we hit the streets. From my time in Florida and Danis in Spain we already had a decent command of Spanish so our numbers and greetings were somewhat up to scratch. We had previously decided that once we reached Maputo we were going to indulge ourselves in a lavish lunch and take advantage of the cheap and readily available seafood for which Mozi is reknowned. We managed to navigate our way to the fish market, peixe mercado, whilst avoiding the political and government streets and unofficial policemen that demand to see the passports of Estrangeiros (we're not whities any more!) which usually result in a fine for one reason or another. As soon as we entered the mercado we were swamped by hoardes of boys all trying to flog us the biggest fish, freshest prawns, juiciest squid etc etc. It was all too much and the Portuguese went out the window. Ofcourse we dealt with the boys who spoke the
Spiced rum and seafood
In one of our rare moments when we had no company and Dani sporting her new Swaziland necklace. best English. Within minutes we were the new owners of a big fish, prawns, calamari, octopus, clams and a heap of condiments including lime, basil and cashews and were ushered to a table where we could wait for our catch to be cooked and served. We hadn't quite got our heads around the new currency and ended up paying 600000 Mts which is about $25Aus, quite cheap by Sydney standards, but in hindsight and in Africa, more expensive than we'd realised. I managed to order a local beer and Dani decided to try the local spiced rum. Our waitress arrived with the bottle and poured Dani so much rum there was hardly any room for the tonic. For the next hour while we waited we didn't have a single solitary moment as every tout, vendor, street kid and bum lined up at our table waiting to claim a piece of us, or more to the point, our wallets. Even when the meal arrived there was no respite. Thankfully it was one of the most amazing seafood meals we'd ever had. A couple more beers and about half a bottle of rum and we were ready for the bill. When it
Maputo Train Station
Colonial meets Portuguese. There was an amazing bar inside, but no beer on a Church Day apparently. arrived so too did all the market boys and we instantly knew that we were about to be stung for something. We were expecting a small charge for the cooking of the seafood but the cheeky bastards charged us more than the seafood cost in the first place. When we queried the charge our now not so friendly waitress slammed the menu down on the table and pointed to where it was written on the menu. Keeping our cool we explained to her that not only were we not told about the charge, we didn't even receive a menu and if she would be so kind as to study her menu the charge for cooking was quoted as only half what we had been charged! Then there was the matter of the triple rums we had been charged for. When I asked to speak to the manager the bill was drastically reduced and the market boys disappeared realising that their cut of the sting was gone. We managed to reduce the bill further to a not so inflated price and then realised that we'd already spent what local currency we had. They were very quick to point out that we
City life
As tourists we sometimes think this is put on just for us, but it's just business as usual for the locals. could pay in dollars. I don't think so! After changing money at a ridiculously poor rate we paid our bill which worked out to be almost double what it should have been, but less than half the original figure. We were actually thankful after the event as it was the first time in two and a half months in Africa that we'd been remotely scammed and not only was it for a petty amount, it was actually the remains of money we'd won at the Burswood Casino. We made a point to be more cautious from that point on, especially as all we'd heard from other travellers was that Mozambiquans, especially in Maputo were out to separate you from your money by any con imaginable. Apart from that we enjoyed Maputo to a certain degree. We particularly revelled in the Portuguese influence which brought a street cafe and coffee culture and some of the most amazing bread, pastries and sweets we'd tasted. If Dani says "that was the best Portuguese Tart I ever ate!" then who am I to disagree? Maputo is also reputed to have a vibrant local music culture, but as it was the weekend we didn't really
Estrangeiros D & D
On the ferry to Catembe. get to experience this - everyone was at church! Particularly disturbing about Maputo however is how unbelievably filthy it is. In addition to the derelict feel of the whole city, on every available piece of pavement there are piles upon piles of rubbish. We are talking full tip sized piles! The people live amongst this like it isn't there and don't seem to know or care about the health and hygiene issues of buying and selling their seafood and produce from a sidewalk that is undecipherable from the rubbish. We spent a very relaxing afternoon on Catembe Island where we were able to walk along the beach in peace and have a drink at a nice hotel / gallery that looks back onto a very manhatten like Maputo, without the skyscrapers ofcourse. Here we were given another insight into a typical Mozi transaction when the cashier didn't have any change to give us, but ofcourse miraculously found some when we started to walk out without paying. Back at Fatimas we'd met up with a heap of travelers that we'd met at various different places along the way, and nine of us in total decided to travel together the next day
Popular theme
Not one statue or memorial commemorates anything but War. up the coast to Tofo. Responding to a sign on the Fatimas noticeboard that said they would arrange a bus for groups of 6 or more to their sister BP in Tofo, we enquired about the service. Whether the guy didn' know or didn't care he made it quite clear that he wasn't going to help and that we'd be best to organise our own transport, which is exactly what we did!
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