The Belated Update (and final instalment), Part II

Leaving Masasi we turn to sand track at Nangomba which apparently leads to the new bridge constructed across the Rio Rovuma, the Tnz/Moz frontier.
After about 70km we run into perfectly new tarmac which takes us to the new immigration and customs offices (maybe 1km). Friendly and efficient officials takes us through the motions and we are on our way to their counterparts across the river in no-time. Same story there and we enter Mozambique, speeding away on asphalt until we suddenly hit the brakes, there's no road, not even a track? The asphalt just terminates in the bush and eventually we find the track turnoff a few hundred meters back. A sandy DUSTY track keeps us busy for the day and we roll into Mocimboa De Priai shortly before dusk. Accommodation is limited and we meet some South African pilots involved in the gas/oil operation drilling offshore and they offer to arrange that we camp on their staff house grounds. We thankfully accept and early the next day we're off to Mucujo, looking for the beach.

The friendly Flower Lodge arranges camping for us although they don't cater for campers. Their operation is still partly under construction and we're the only guests for the two days we spend there. The manager helps us arrange a Dhow to the very tiny island of Rolas about 5km offshore. Ihla De Rolas is known for it's unique nocturnal population of Coconut Crabs, the biggest land crab in the world measuring in some cases up to one meter across. Wow! Simply have to see this! We set off about mid-morning with 2 local fishermen on their medium-sized Dhow, heading for Rolas. The estimate from the manager is about an hour's sailing to our destination however four-and-half hours later we're still negotiating low tide swell (a result of shallow sandbanks offshore) sailing into the wind. We zigzag across the luke-warm blue,

rudimentary gestures being the only means to communicate with our captain as he explains where we're going. Every fifteen minutes or so we help the hand on board to scoop handfuls of water from the bottom of our vessel into an upside-down hardhat destined for overboard whilst reminding myself how surprised i am not to feel queasy at all. Some time later we have Rolas in full sight as we circle the island for the only sandy peninsula preparing to beach. We join some other smaller vessels on the beach (as Rolas is home to seasonal fishermen a few days at a time) and we are greeted friendly. Our captain seems to know everybody on the island as he explains (i guess) that we are here to stay the night in search of big hairy crabs (as they laugh). We enter their makeshift commune, staring at large timber drying tables filled with fish of all size and shape, punctuated by the odd dehydrated octopus. Fish and other specimens are often dried or smoked for use in preparing other dishes like stew or broth or on the fire and is not eaten dried like biltong or bokoms. Dusk is setting in and we spot a fresh catch of octopus which may well do for supper. We negotiate via the captain and agree on a price. Our captain also agrees to cook it as we look forward to a seasonal fisherman's typical meal away from home. We clean and chop her into bite-size pieces and goes directly into the beaten-up pot. Our captain points (and smiles) at a small heap of maize-flowery stuff next to the fire as we realise that the porridge-like substance which was cast from a pot earlier and is now being enjoyed by our hosts, might well be the same thing. The octopus pot turns red and is good to go. The porridge is mixed and cooked into a thick stand-alone cake. Voila, dinner is served. We let our guides dig-in as we both eye the grey matter on display. We first try the octopus which is rather flavourless, tasteless and rubbery with hints of surf and turf. The brothy juice which surrounds the octopus seems like a good candidate to dunk the grey matter in and so we move in for the kill. A handful is pinched from the cake and modelled by hand into a small ball and then dunked in the broth. The first bite is crunchy (sand) and the taste seems fair. Our hosts smilingly watch as we process our first portion. The next handful is a game changer as we realise that this 'pap' is not going down well. Politeness forces our hands as we reduce our portions and double-dip in the octo-broth. Two handfuls later we abandon the idea altogether and start to focus primarily on the octopus. With loads of food still left and our guest absolutely loving the grey-pap-plasticine, we thankfully announce our satisfaction. The left-overs will be kept for a late night snack as it is only about 18:00 and the night will be long. We decide to sleep on the beach with our captain and his right hand-man who apparently both will have to keep an eye on their Dhow throughout the night. We came rather unprepared (no tent, no sleeping bag) we realise as we mold ourselves into the sand preparing for a somewhat colder-than-expected evening. We set our alarm for 21:00 (giant crab time!) as we close our eyes for a few hours. Eyes open at 20:47. Might as well get going. With flashlight and open shoes we march around the corner expecting to walk at least further down the elongated island toward the other end where apparently the coconut grabs like to hang. Fifteen meters into our nightly excursion i knock my foot against something (which moved) and we fumble to get the flashlight switched-on (walking in the dark at first as not to bother the fisherman as we walk past their camp) No Way! There it is! I almost stepped on an approximately 50cm long coconut crab. Doesn't look like a grab all. Looks like a crayfish crossed with a tarantula. We find it hard to bother with cameras (but do get some pics + video) as we investigate the size of its pincers. What a magnificent creature. Called coconut crabs because it is said that they climb coconut trees, relieve them of coconuts which they drop down to the ground. Then they pry open the cracked coconuts and eat the flesh. Impressive! Only problem we had was that this is the only place in the world where they are found and we can't see a single coconut tree. Well, maybe a couple, but certainly not enough to warrant coconut crabs! Anyway, in the light of our chosen footwear and the size of their pincers we decide that spotting one specimen is good enough for us plus, the terrain from here on out turns to mostly coral (unless you chop you way through the bush). As we turn around i briefly consider the fact that we are in fact not sleeping too far (and on the ground) from this very spot.

We don't end-up sleeping much that night primarily because of chills and occasional commotion as our guides rush into the water to save their adrift Dhow. The deck-hand ended-up sleeping on the deck of the boat which in no way could have been remotely comfortable. We 'wake' early the next morning and light a fire. The fisherman join us as we show them the pictures of our encounter the night before. They seem surprised and even more so when we tell them where the picture was taken. Should make a good meal, no? We glide to the mainland in no-time riding the wind, as we thank our friendly hosts and make good our end.

Arriving back to shore we decide to make it for Pangani which is about 5km north of Mucujo. We (sadly) only spend one day there in paradise (see photos) after which we will start travelling south toward Pemba and join Kirk and Dale.

Pemba is a bustling little coastal town and the first place we encounter some tourists. The place to stay in Pemba is Russels Place, an Australian-run camp/restaurant. Our first order of business at Russels is sitting down to freshly prepared beef, french fries and salad washed-down with the local 2M lager, a rarety on our journey thus far. the night turns late and blurry as we join Kirk and Dale and meet Andrew and Tina who met one another in Nigeria on their way down to South Africa from London. This would turn out to be our travelling party for the next month or so through Mozambique. The following days we spend playing frisbee and eating various sea foods whilst bush camping on vacant land (on the beach) just south of Pemba. Fantastic. We meet Smitty, an expat South African who invites us to stay on his land a little further north, seemingly enjoying new company. We stay for 2 nights before we depart south on our last "off the beaten track" piste.

We take a secondary road closer to the coast which leads to a river crossing (Rio Lurio) which apparently is possible to cross during the dry season. Technical it is dry season right now in Mozambique but things change quickly as rain falling far north west can change our plans. We drive gravel roads and sand track before come to the last village en route before the Lurio. From here it's over-grown bush track as the locals try to issue advice in gesture as we feel our way through south. We reach the wide banks of the river and go for a walk. We're amazed how wide this riverbed is, about 1.5km of mostly sand except 3 channels which is always flowing. We walk it through and it's not deep, about 70cm. We drive the soft riverbed sand until we get to the water and pass through without hassle. Same for the other 2 channels and some time later we emerge on the southern bank. We meet a Pajero filled with Chinese people (civil engineers, obviously. the Chinese is busy paving Africa!) further down the track as they stop Andrew and Tina to enquire where the hell we're coming from. Across the river!

Continuing south we stop at the coastal town of Nacala for a couple days, bush camping on the land of a very hospitable Senegalese man (who's name i can't recall). It's one of numerous sites he owns right on the beach just south of town and we setup camp right under a massive baobab tree nearly on the beach. Our host summons his workers to look after us (despite us politely declining his offer) as they start making fires around the camp. We manage to eventually calm them down (making fires) but they will stay as guards to make sure we have a pleasant stay. Turns out that our host has worked all over Africa for the UN and that he likes beer a lot. Fair enough. The last night there we get hold of two large squid for the pot while we pretend to be German by wearing typical Belgian 'rode duivels' suspenders and enjoying the local lager.

Next stop is the beautiful and friendly Ilha da Mozambique where we spend one day walking around and taking pictures of the kids and bush camp one night at the old Portuguese castle fort (thanks to the fact that Andrew speaks fluent Portuguese as we manage to get partial permission to do so + slipping the guard a tip for keeping an eye on our stuff) which is as far as i know unheard of. Yes, we're cheap as chips. So much so that a German/South African couple we met that day even joined us for the night on the lawn of the fort. On we go to Angoche where we spend a wind-swept sandblasted night bush camping right on the beach (just north of town), sand which will join us for the rest of our trips as the stuff is EVERYWHERE. The wind was so strong that night that the cars had shifted slightly due to the sand being blown from underneath the tyres, e.g. the washing line tied between the land cruiser and land rover was hanging the classic loop that day however when we woke up the next morning it was taught!

The next day we depart for our second river crossing (dry season only) which proved much like the previous - Fairly shallow and quite a commotion. Arriving at Vilanculos we meet up with friends of Andrew and Tina who they had met in Nigeria. The Dutch Henk-Jan and Marijn and their dog Boris travel in ex-military modified DAF truck, a beautiful, powerful and comfortable mode of transportation. We hang out for a few days before we leave for Inhambane, collecting 6 additional passengers as we pass go. We had met 5 Italians on their way to Maputo and as Kirk has an empty car, invited them along. We then collected a hitch-hiker on the same mission. From Inhambane south to Xia-Xia we enter 'little South Africa' and all the way down to Ponta D'oura, it's capital. This southern stretch of Mozambican coast has long been the playground for South Africans and now more so than ever and understandably so, since it is truly beautiful (although we still prefer the north!) and a diver's paradise. The stronghold for this seasonal migration is without doubt Ponta D'Oura where we spent our last few days in Moz. I was there about 10 years ago and it sure has transformed into a proper holiday town. We nonetheless still find a bush camp (as by now we're paying South African prices, in Rand! in fact, everywhere you go here you actually have to ask for the local Metacais price) after which we move to Phambuka, a dive center and campsite run by Mike and his lovely wife. Thanks so much for your hospitality! By now reality

has started to set in as we are dangerously close to reaching the end of our trip, being only a day's drive away from Umdloti, just north of Durban. Kirk and Dale decide to gun it down to her sisters in Ballito as ourselves and Andrew and Tina slowly float down into SA. A slow drive and two days later we arrive in Ballito for breakfast at the Wimpy. hhmmm, eggs, sausages, bacon, cheese, fried tomatoes and toast. On our way out we spot a branded Landrover with a grey-hared / bearded driver. No Way! It's Kingsley Holgate! (if you don't know who he is, google him!) Andrew flags him down for a chat as we join them after finding parking again. What a wealth of information and stories, truly a really nice bloke. We spend about 15 minutes talking about our trips and routes. We could easily spend hours picking his brain on African adventure and African cause however we have Gareth, our good friend and host, waiting for us in Umdloti as we tear ourselves away from this parking lot sit-down. We pass our respective details on to Kingsley (as he expressed genuine interest in our little trips, especially our journey through Southern Sudan) as we wave good bye. The next days are spent spotting dolphins and whales from Gareth's house in Umdloti, a great distraction from having to deal with our hang-over from being back from this amazing journey.

We would like to sincerely thank everybody who had made this trip possible for us and be assured, we have already started planning the next one! We send our best wishes to all the amazing people we had met along the way for their friendship, hospitality and their broad and ever-welcoming smiles. Sadly we say good bye to our beloved and 'tough as hell' Landcruiser Troopie. It never let us down and was a comfortable home for 7 months in Africa. To all the sceptics out there, Africa is as safe as your capital city, wherever you live. Go on, give her a chance...

Good Bye,

Riaan and Stephanie