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Published: September 6th 2010
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Tofo - Kite Surfing
Popular Kite surfing venue What an innocent day this particular Sunday was going to be. I was to lie down on the beach of Tofo until mid-afternoon. From there I would go to Inhambane around 20 minutes away to get some money out and go back home - There are no ATM’s in Tofo so the only way to get money out, is to go out of town - The first part of the day went as planned - At 3pm I left to get some money out… I would return 4 hours later.
Sometimes you just have to laugh when a simple task like getting money out of an ATM in Africa can be a problem. MasterCard/Cirrus/Maestro cards are just awful cards to have in Africa. Very few banks accept it and since my VISA and Plus cards were cancelled after my Johannesburg pick pocketing incident I have been suffering ever since.
Annoyances such as being unable to get money out in Zambia, taking 2.5hours lining up at different ATM’s in Chomoio. In Zimbabwe the only bank Barclay’s working but discovering Barclays doesn’t work in Zambia or Mozambique. It just doesn’t make sense, it is the 2nd most popular card type in
Tofo Scuba
Nice place to grab a tan and diving the world and tourism is a major source of income in Africa. Wouldn’t you think that the African governments would make it easier for its tourists so they can input foreign currency into their economy? Anyway back to the story…
I take the chapa to Inhambane, one of Mozambique’s oldest settlements and the furthest south the Arabs went. It takes 30 mins and it was quitter than the first time I arrived here. It soon clicked that it was a Sunday - Not the best of days to do an ATM run. I left the Chapa without paying - I realised this 4 blocks away but I am now closer to the ATM so I think to myself, ‘I’ll only be a few minutes, he’ll still be there when I get back.’
I get to Millennium bank (BIM) my only option in town. There are 3 ATM’s - one, the slot is blocked off. The other 2 have no money left. I was told that Friday is payday in Mozambique so by Sunday some of the banks ATM’s are bone dry. I bellow out a frustrated “FUCK!” and go through my options. I could go home and try
again tomorrow, but than again this could happen again. The other option is to cross over the river to Maxixe (pronounced: Masheesh) where a Standard bank (the only other bank to accept MasterCard in Mozambique) is.
The ferry is only 20 mins - I think of the worst-case scenario. The ferry doesn’t return and I have to stay in Maxixe overnight, spending my last metecais (local currency) and won’t have any money left. Than the thought that these ATM’s are empty too... I was content with what Africa had install for me.
I jogged to the ferry terminal and walked briskly along the boardwalk to the ferry. The ticket man says I need to buy a ticket I ask “Onde” (Where?) He points to a building 400m back, along the boardwalk I just briskly walk down. So after a few questions and attempts to give him the money (30c), I briskly walk back and forth to catch the ferry. It’s a civilised, organised service. I am sitting out the back and waited patiently once we arrived to get off.
Once off, I run to Standard Bank about 7mins away. The mission is to get the money, run
back in time to get the ferry before it leaves. It is a Sunday and I don’t know when the last chapa leaves for Tofo. If I am too late I am at the mercy of the night taxi drivers. I get my money out split the amount to various pockets and I was off again. I reach the ferry terminal, pay for a ticket (before going down the boardwalk this time.) I see the ferry slightly moving. It was of leaping distance but leaping towards the exposed engine. I choose not to.
I see to my right an old wooden boat called a dhow. It is motorised by a 55 horsepower (h/p) engine and is soon full, with me at the front and not covered like the rest of the passengers by tarpaulin so thick its dark inside - It was a scene from an asylum seeker boat. We set off for 50m and the motor cuts out.
The tide was coming in by then so within the minute we have drifted behind our starting position. Another dhow, which is also full, comes along to help out. It slams into ours and our guy throws over a
rope and joins the other boat. A single knot is used to secure the boats together. Now I am no boy scout but I would be putting two knots on for security.
Our guy picks up some parts from the other boat to fix the problem. Takes off his shirt, roles his trousers up and takes his important documents out of his pockets. He hands them to the other boat guy and prepares to leap over to our boat. He jumps and misses, claims the rope and climbs up onto the boat. Soon after the ropes knot loosens and falls off.
As the boat that was tugging us along sails off into the distance we are now stranded on the middle of the river. I couldn’t help but present a slight grin on my face. A puff of laughter comes out of my nose and mouth. I start singing Shakira’s World Cup song to myself. ‘Cause this is Africa.’
The boat comes back and we are retied. Minutes later our engine starts again. Now, our motor is 55h/p whilst the dhow in front is 30h/p. Within the minute we are up the arse of the other dhow.
As the sun was setting over Maxixe with a bright orange band on the horizon. Inhambane had light fluffs of cloud covered in a pinkish hew. In between these images was a change of attitude. The once light-hearted amusement of the extended trip turned to yells that probably could be translated to “What the hell are you doing?” Hands are flying in the air. Soon after the motor cuts out and we are tugged along to the now rapidly darkening town of Inhambane.
The other ferry in the meantime was making its return trip back to Maxixe so to look at things positively I was ahead of time! We arrive and it’s a quick walk to catch the chapa. But there are no chapa’s left and no sign of the chapa I forgot to pay for 3 hours earlier. I see a public bus and it is going to Tofo. I get on and the front of the bus is crowded. No one is sitting on the back seats. A drunken man joins me with the smell of cheap red wine with a bottle to boot. As we both slip and slide on the elevated slippery seats. I arrive
at 7pm. 4 hours after I left.
I departed at 3pm in blazing sun and returned in the pitch black of night. My first day in Mozambique took me 2 ½ hours to get $80 out. I thought I could never beat that experience. But who was I kidding I beat it hands down - on that innocent Sunday at those 3 sleepy coastal towns of Mozambique - By a smooth 1 ½ hours.
God I love travelling!
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