Advertisement
Published: October 25th 2009
L has said he'll take me to the bus station the following morning but he gets up sufficiently late that I begin to wonder if I'll get out of Mocuba today. I'd been told that I should buy my ticket at least an hour in advance in order to ensure a seat, but we leave at a time where we'll barely make it to the station to catch the bus full stop, let alone get a seat on it. L realises this, and instead takes me to a pick-up spot in town where I should be able to flag down the bus when it passes. We say our farewells, and I'm grateful for that last piece of Malawian hospitality.
I don't have to wait long for the bus and it's not surprisingly full however the aisle only has a handful of standers so I find a spot in plenty of space. Fortune smiles on me as, not 45 minutes later, a man sitting right next to me gets off and I nab his seat. My neighbours are fat and, in that African way, treat the trip as a shopping expedition so they accumulate bananas, oranges, and other items as we
That's very nearly an armful!
Murder victim, Residencial Farhanaprogress. These all go in an ever-growing stack on the floor between the husband's legs, and the percentage of my seat I can call my own dwindles to somewhere less than 50.
It's hot, but the windows are open and curtains closed. The road alternates between tarmac and dirt but it's never abysmal. I've had better eight hour journeys in my life but this is strictly second division stuff compared with Ethiopia. We arrive in Nampula mid-afternoon and I'm actually quite energised for an accommodation hunt.
I have little success finding my first target so, rustling up my best Portuguese and all its attendant sh-ing, I enlist the help of a passing woman. She takes the task seriously and, when we find out the place is closed for renovations, she insists on helping me find my second choice. It's hot and humid in Nampula so unnecessary walking is to be avoided, but we meet with success and I deluge her with "Muito obrigado"s as she sweatily returns to whatever she was doing before I intruded into her day. My room has aircon, a fan, and a fridge, but has no hot water and no mossie net. The loo
won't flush either but, without actually trying, I seem to have become something of a cistern analyst on my travels so I'm able to fix it. The room is $30 per night but - like Malawi - Mozambique is not a cheap country so this isn't too bad. A bigger break is that, having seen numerous statements online that a Mastercard ATM card is useless here, the very first bank I try chunders out money at my command.
The most immediately obvious difference about Mozambique when compared to Malawi, Tanzania, and in fact everywhere I've been since Sudan, is the diversity of skin colour and features, which covers the gamut. I'm assuming this is not just as a result of Portuguese colonisation, but also the 1000 years plus that Mozambique has been receiving traders from as far afield as India and beyond. It feels African but not entirely. The sound of Portuguese, a language I can't speak but which sounds considerably more familiar than, say, Chichewa, adds a European flavour strengthened by the colonial-era buildings. Perhaps as a result of this, I'm of little interest to Nampula's population.
My second night in Mozambique only adds to my collection
of mosquito bites and I wonder idly if the first three letters of the country's name are a reference to the little bastards. I've been bitten dozens of times all over my body and this won't stop unless I buy a net - unfortunately even DEET doesn't seem to dissuade these guys. I buy a net, and the first instruction - next to which is written the word "important" - is that I need to air it for 24 hours before using it.
Mozambique belongs in that select group of countries (including Argentina and India, among others) whose Treasury minister should be fired because of not issuing enough small currency. Every transaction I undertake, even ones that come to a nice round number of tens or hundreds of metacais, causes a hunt for change. Even Shoprite, which I would think would have no trouble maintaining an adequate supply, can't satisfy its obligations in that regard. It irritates me that I'm expected to suck up the shortfall, small though it may be, even though the failing is on the part of this multi-billion dollar organisation.
The streets of Nampula are as filled with vendors as they were in every
town I visited in Malawi. There are the itinerant salesmen, carrying a few pairs of trousers or maybe a fistful of sunglasses. I always attract the airtime boys and soon perfect the Portuguese for "I don't have a phone". Then there are the pavement hawkers, staking out a few metres of space on which they lay out T-shirts, weighted down at the corners with stones to prevent the wind running off with them. Some are selling shoes, each member of the pair carefully positioned at 180 degrees to the other so as to give a passer-by views of both sides of what they could soon be wearing. Idle moments are filled with polishing the stock. This kind of mercantile activity appears to be illegal,as the appearance of a policeman causes all the goods to be hurriedly collected up.
Having said that, Nampula is a dull town and definitely not one worth stopping in unless you absolutely have to, but sadly my guts hold me hostage here for four nights with an evil return to their Mulanje form. It's an epic struggle betwen man and sphincter, a war I can wage in my hotel room but which I feel would
be reckless to take into the theatre of public transport. So I sit grimly in enforced confinement during the longest weekend, but at the first sign that the battle is being won I head for what has been my intended destination all along - Ilha de Mocambique (blogged separately). Returning to Nampula afterwards is a necessary evil.
Northern and Central Mozambique are not known for the quality and comfort of their public transport, and I face a dilemma for how to get to my next destination in the south. The choices initially appear to be on an expensive flight (though this option is further complicated by limited availability) or via three days of gruelling but cheap public buses. I can't say that either option appeals, so I decide to follow up on a couple of rumours I've heard about a luxury bus service on this route. The company is hard to track down as they have no web presence at all, but I persevere and after speaking to various travel agents and locals I find myself at their office, which is itself laughably low key - a back room in a filling station with nothing even on the room's
walls to indicate who owns it.
The effort proves worthwhile. They do two buses to Beira each week, taking one day whereas the other companies take two, and by a lucky coincidence one of the services will be leaving the next day and there's availability. Even though it's twice the price of the other buses, that is pretty much offset by the fact that I won't have to pay for a night of accommodation halfway through. Which means the AC, on-board toilet, and supposed extra comfort will all be gravy. The thought of a pleasant African bus journey is so intoxicating that I buy a further ticket with the same company from Beira to Vilankulos.
While killing time in the only way I know how in Nampula (i.e. by visiting the Internet cafe), I bump into S again. She had left Ilha the day before me, aiming to catch a flight south for which she'd been told she could simply turn up at the airport and find a cancellation. Sadly that information turned out to be incorrect and she has resigned herself to a two day wait in Nampula for the next flight south. My luxury bus information
Balcony corridor
Residencial Farhana gives her a new option and a trip back to their office sees her buying the same tickets as me. She's able to cancel her air ticket and use the credit for a subsequent flight without penalty. Result.
Regardless of how luxury the bus may be, it leaves at the Mozambican standard time of 4AM, meaning a short night's sleep and a wary plod through the early morning streets of Nampula.
Dull but possibly useful info i. There are supposedly Grupo Mecula buses from Mocuba bus station to Nampula at 5AM and 7AM each day. I picked up the (presumably ...) 7AM one at about 7:20AM at Cruzeiro, a place in town that's a common spot for passengers who can't/won't get to the bus station. Cruzeiro is opposite Pensao Cruzeiro. I didn't get a seat immediately but only waited about 40 mins. It's a 2-aisle-3 configuration with little leg room. It cost M280 for the 8hr 10min journey, terminating just off Avenida 25 de Setembro and a couple of blocks south of Avenida Eduardo Mondlane.
ii. Hotel Lurio is currently closed for renovations.
iii. I stayed at Residencial Farhana on Avenida Paulo Samuel Kankhomba, paying M800 for an
en suite room with 2 single beds. Plus points were the AC, fan, and fridge. Minus points were the lack of a towel, lack of a mossie net, mossies, lack of hot water, lack of an overhead light (just a bedside one), a leaking cistern, and general dilapidation. I would not recommend this place however I have no good recommendations about anywhere else and heard that they're all owned by the same guy anyway. Room availability seemed like an issue.
iv. Barclays and Standard Bank ATMs both accept Mastercard ATM cards. Millenium BIM (one of the local banks) also appears to have the full range of logos next to is machines but I never got to try one out as they all come complete with a queue of about 50 people.
v. The only Internet I could find was in the main shopping centre (containing the Girassol hotel) on Avenida Eduardo Mondlane, for M40 per hour. The speed was OK but their Opera installation is extremely pernickety, the connection occasionally goes down (for which you don't get a refund), and they're closed all weekend.
vi. I didn't see a single decent-looking restaurant in this area of the city, but my
guts meant I didn't conduct an in-depth hunt. Seems like you're stuck with either Frango King (i.e. chicken and chips) or Shoprite (whose bakery section does steak and kidney pies - also curry ones).
vii. And now some info that I heard from another traveller that may be useful. Mozambique visas are NOT issued at the Nayuchi border from Malawi (and in fact I'm not sure if they're issued at the Milanje one either as I got mine in advance in Lilongwe). They ARE issued at the Mandimba crossing, which is supposedly the easiest as there are regular transport connections to Cuamba. The Cuamba<->Nampula train runs in each direction on alternate days except Monday, viz Nampula->Cuamba on Tu, Th, and Sa, and Cuamba->Nampula on W, F, and Su. It takes about 11 hours and leaves at (I think) 5AM. 3rd class costs M175, second class M331, and there's no first class. The dining car doesn't look sufficiently appealing to want to spend the journey in it.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.073s; Tpl: 0.015s; cc: 15; qc: 31; dbt: 0.0274s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 2;
; mem: 1.2mb
JonathanCampion
Jonathan Campion
Thanks.
A really enjoyable blog, thanks.