Tofo

A bit short on time and fearful of too much backtracking I decided to go only as far north as Tofo/ Inhambane. A beautiful place in paradise. Friendly locals, a lot of good parties, the perfect beach, a true bungalow style backpackers and good people made my stay there very special. The nearest ATM is reached in 3 hours and I had to do that twice.

Tofo consists out of the market, some low key restaurants around it, 2 dive schools, and a dozen bars. The barkeeper at Fatima has been working there since 15 months. I met him in Maputo because he has overstayed his visa for 3 months and now wanted to walk past the Mozambique border officials to the South African side. South Africa has to accept any South African - even if he does not have an exit stamp from another country. He did that successfully and we met up in Tofo again. We were wingmen’s for 2 weeks and had the best time. We sipped away each afternoon on the sundeck drinking Tipo (rum, 500ml, 1.60$). The coolest people came through and the parties were a great fusion of cultures. One night Michael got a gun to his head because of rivalry between the different nightclubs. He lost is mojo afterwords and became an asshole. He had a 4 minutes fist fight with his best friend. The next morning both of them didn’t know the reason for it. The owner kicked him out of the hostel because of excessive partying, but first he had to settle his 3’500$ tab. Paradise turned to hell and I left.

During my stay I had an arty phase. I painted, I drew faces into the vast beach that corrected the perspective from the beach, I mutilated a pineapple and I built a house. Good times.

Maputo

I was in Maputo for 6 days and managed to stay in 3 different hostels and get harassed by the corrupt police 3 times and was asked to come to the police station twice. Twice I agreed that we should go right know and that I am ready and twice I was released without charges. The corrupt police stop everybody who looks foreign and try to frighten them with all kind of shit if they can’t produce any papers. It’s so common that everybody has a story to tell after visiting Mozambique. Especially if you have a car you are bound to get in trouble.

After crossing the border we tried to get to Punto d’Ouro. On the sandy road everybody told us that we will not be able to pass the last stretch. We believed into are drivers ability and luck. We got stuck. Some guys helped us to take the car out of the sand, after greeting us with “Where do you guys think you are - fucking Miami?” . We drove back to Maputo, now knowing about the ferry service across the bay of Maputo. We arrived late on Saturday in Fatima’s, after 10 hours of useless driving in South Mozambique.

There we got drunk instantly and joined up with Sharman and an Australian girl. We went to the train station, which was built by the Portuguese some 100 plus years ago. The bar is where the ticket counter used to be. The dance floor is next to the tracks. It is really cool and expensive.

Maputo itself is quite nice for an African city - as modern as Nairobi. Some colonial buildings still exist, but there are still many houses in a decaying condition in the middle of the city. The markets are all over the sidewalks. People speak mostly Portuguese and understand Spanish pretty good. Poverty is visible throughout the country.

At weekends people drive their cars to the Costa del Sol just north of the center and park at the beach and use their hut as a bar. A spectacle in it self.

It was time to say bye to Michael and George with whom I had a great time. I hope you guys come to Switzerland one day.