We had decided not to apply for Mozambican visas in advance having heard they would be cheaper at the border. Like $45 at the embassy in Liliongwe and $30 at the border. But of course, as we arrived at the border the official asked for $100. He seemed totally serious. We laughed.
"How much would you like to pay?"
"$30, like everybody else!"
And that's how much we paid. There must be people who actually pay what they ask, otherwise they just would not ask.
The road we took from there was a few hundred kilometers of dirt - sometimes bumpy, sometimes slippery.
Decent red dirt-track through North-Mozambique.
At some spots it wasn't decent enough - it's rainy season afterall, many roads can become unpassable with very hard rains.
Some old Portuguese colonial time insect fumigation post for vehicles - abandoned, obviously.
Till the weather got scary for us... But what colours!
Panorama from the road (click to enlarge each panorama)
Panorama just before the thunderstorm kicked in.
On the sides of the road the grass ws so tall you could barely see what's behind. Just as if we were riding in an oversized field. The locals greeted us with excited screams, and little hands waved at us, but there was also an air of slight distrust towards strangers on a big two-wheeled monster. But surely a Portuguese "Bom dia!" (because Mozambique used to be a Portuguese colony) or the good old "Assalam aleikum!" (there are many Muslims living in the northern and coastal parts of Mozambique, forming 20% of the total population, whereas there are some 25% Christians) let the ice melt away quickly.
Panorama from a bridge.
Meeting locals on the road.
First they wanted a smoke, but we don't smoke. Then they wanted some money - well you've got to work to earn it, not just standing still and looking at us. :lol3
A local Mozambiquan man had a very nice bicycle.
A cheer from a cowboy-hatted man in Mozambique!
Some church in Malema.
The landscapes were amazing, with huge rocks protruding from the ground, like petrified fairies, silent guards of the Earth. No wonder abouth half of Mozambique's population is of animist belief - there is something here that one cannot explain in words.
Decent landscape in North-Mozambique.
Rocky mountains...
African version of Australian's Kata Tjuta (click to enlarge every panorama)
Panorama of North-Mozambique's rocky mountains.
African version of Australia's Uluru rock (click to enlarge)
Panorama from the road.
The road went on like this for several hundreds of kilometers, and only turned to tar in Nampula. We were unfortunate enough to arrive in total darkness - even though we had been on the road since 7.30 in the morning. We were exhausted and tried to find the campground marked on the GPS map, but it wasn't there. Locals looked at us hesitantly when we rolled up and down the dark, dusty side streets looking for a place to stay. Nothing.
With some help from the locals we found a hotel, but they wanted 2200 meticais (or, roughly $73) for a double room, which is far, far above our budget - if such a thing any longer exists. So we asked if they would allow us to camp on their grounds - there was plenty of space. But no. And no discounts either! Surely enough, as we prepared to leave to search for another place, a fancy truck with USAID signs rolled in.
We looked on. The cheapest places place we could find still asked 1200 meticais for a room, but they were full, and in the end we had no choice but to stay at a crappy place with a flowing bathroom floor, for 1360 meticais ($45). This is what the budget range looks like in Mozambique. I remember, in Brazil which is a former colony of Portugal, just like Mozambique, accomodation was not the cheapest in the world, but hey, at least you got something in return. Not only is it decent, but you also get a fantastic breakfast thrown in for free. Mozambique was to be tough, we thought.
In the morning we discovered the front tyre was empty, and as I tried to fix it, the regular crowd gathered to enjoy the show.
Fixing a puncture that collected public fast - thank god we had tubeless tyres and thus a quick fix, otherwise all city men would had been around there! :lol3
Once the show is over we got onto the bike and zoomed off, direction: Mozambique Island, a UNESCO heritage site. After the chocking last night's experience we were more than delighted to find that it wasn't full of vacationing South-Africans and that we could actually find a decent place, and they didn't even charge too much. I mean, $30 is not little for a room with a shared bathroom, but breakfast was included, there was free WiFi, and it had a totally zen-ambience - just what we needed to get ourselves together, edit and upload some text and pictures, and get ready for the long journey down the coast.
Contrary to what we had imagined, Mozambique Island was quite different from Zanzibar. Just a few kilometers long and a few hundred meters wide - basically an overgrown village. But what a village!
The northern part of the island took us back to the Portuguese colonial times, but as it seems to happen everywhere in Africa, the magnificent buildings are left to rot - quite unlike in South- and Central-America where that kind of heritage is really well preserved.
Old Portugese style building that is now hospital in Ilha de Moçambique.
In front of an old and abandoned church.
Girl carrying freshly washed laundry back home.
Panorama from southern tip of Ilha de Moçambique (click to enlarge)
In the church garden.
Old rusted lock.
Window of an old abandoned shipyard.
Streets of Ilha de Moçambique.
Kariina on the promenade.
Local girls wanted a pic - they got some!
Mozambiquan ladies…
Got really naughty at times...
Door.
House on the beach.
Portugese style architecture everywhere...
In front of a church on Ilha de Moçambique.
Tribunal - colonial style.
Boy taking a brake on the street from the intense Quran-school.
Steps.
Everything is carried on the head.
A stare from one of the windows.
A bright white house on a tropical beach.
Many houses are left...
On the beach.
What is remarkable, is how many children there are on Mozambique Island, but considering that around half of the country's population is up to 14 years old, it quite makes sense. The kids, of course, are a fantastic subject for photography, and those on the island were no exception. They were begging to be photographed, and how could I have resisted... But the truth is that I would have loved to take more pictures of African women - so colourful and powerful - the true pillar of society, working (no, not from nine to five!) from long before sunrise up until late hours, while the men just seem to pass time chatting. But it ain't no easy feat in a mostly islamic society.
Panorama from Ilha de Moçambique during low tide (click to enlarge each panorama)
Mosque.
Recording from the same mosque :
..::: LISTEN :::..
Fishing boat during the low tide.
Mozambiquan beer - tastes really good.
A fort on one of the neighbouring coral islands.
Colours and braids...
Island boy.
Smile.
Curiosity.
Girls often have cool looking funky hair.
Boy on the promenade.
Under the palms.
Shoot me.
Older woman from the market.
Everything carried on the heads.
Women singing an islamic song during sunset:
...::: LISTEN :::...
Ilha de Moçambique's sherif - the boss of all police on the island.
Local Muslim.
Children on the beach.
Girls...
Girl carrying her younger sister.
Girls singing on the beach during night time:
...::: LISTEN :::...
Portrait of a local girl.
Gates to the island's graveyard.
Low tide.
Local AM (1224kHz) radio plays:
...::: LISTEN :::...
Local boyz...
They had a monkey.
On the beach.
Coming from a swim.
Beans at the market - bought 'em, cooked 'em and they tasted good!
Colourful women in the market.
Bread for sale.
Woman on the beach.
Children playing under an open air market shade.
One of the small islands with a fort on it.
Five days on Mozambique Island were enough, and by the end we were quite keen to get out of this big village and its caleidscope of faces and sounds. We wanted to experience something different for a change, to get some freedom, so we headed south, leaving behind the island and its people doing their daily chores.
Panorama from the bridge that goes to Ilha de Moçambique (click to enlarge)
Fishermen installing their nets.
Us, the road and the ride...
Since Mozambique is a rather prolonged contry it takes quite many days to overland from the one end to another. Quite many days, all pretty much the same - wake up with the sun, make some coffee and oats, pack the tent, start the bike, do five to six hundred kilometers of highway, stop the bike, pitch the tent, cook some spaghetti with tuna, go to sleep. Next day, same drill. Generally we prefer to go slower and take it easy, but who ever we've spoken to actually agrees that there is a looooong stretch of road connecting the north and the south of the country that just does not have nuch to offer except for a lot of kilometers,
The only exciting moment on that stretch of road was when we had pitched our tent on the grounds of a catholic mission in Mocuba. The sun was setting and in the nearby chapel some heavy worshipping was going on. It was not the regular singing, but something more powerful, like cleansing of the soul through emotional, almost aggressive verbalising of thoughts and feelings.
A few days later, soaking from the rain that had been battering us from the day before, we arrived in Vilankulo, where we were happy to meet our Slovenian friends Dean and Vlasta again. Something spectacular was going on with the sky and the ocean, the clouds receding, admitting their defeat, and the light of the setting sun putting on an ever-inspiring show.
Panorama of the stunning sunset colours above the Indian ocean (click to enlarge)
The next day we rose with the sun and had a refreshing swim in the sea, while the light was still mellow and the high tide still caressing the palm-studded coast.
Panorama of the sunrise - Kariina comes from a swim (click to enlarge)
Sunrise colours.
Sunken boat dry during low tide.
The day was destined to be cloudy, but for the locals it was a day like any other. The fishermen bringing in the fresh catch, the women haggling over the price and carrying it home on their heads in huge plastic bowls. We too, with Dean struck a deal with the fishermen and so we had fresh fish and calamari on our table for that night - lit up that fantastig grill plate of theirs and had without doubt some of the most delicious calamari we have ever tasted. Pure gourmet.
Fishermen came with fresh catch, we bought and after cooking it tasted superb!
Dean holding some funky fish.
What fish is that?
At the shore women waiting their men to return from the sea with fish.
The next day was straight out of a postcard. The sky was deep blue, dotted with only a few surreally sculpted fluffs of cloud. The turquoise waters receded to the horizon seemed to be so far away, but still so close it seemed you could almost touch them, just stetch your hand across the bright sand and..
"With my eyes and thoughts glued to the horizon, I started walking across the wet sand. I could hear its call and I followed it. There was so much space around me - the sand was so flat and the sky was so high that I would have liked to take off and fly. Before I knew I was running through the warm, salty air towards the horizon, as fast as I could. I only woke up from this fantasy when I heard thin, clicking sounds around me - it was hundreds of small crabs fleeing into their small nests - just holes in the sand - from the mad intruder. I stopped, breathless. The blue waters were still far away."
Panorama from the Vilanculo beach (click to enlarge)
Boats on dry.
A cloud and a boat...
It was as if we had found ourselves in paradise. We decided to stay another day.
The next day was a total contrast - overcast, with a hint of a storm - which of course meant fantastic colours both in the air and the water. As the waters receded with the low tide, the beach turned into a desert, with strong wind dragging the fine sand along the ground. How many different faces can a place have!
Low tide in cloudy weather.
Fishermen returning from the sea.
Boys on the beach.
Fresh fish from the boats goes directly to the market - women and children do the transportation and selling job.
King prawn from the Indian ocean.
Boats returning at dusk.
Bay in stormy weather.
Fresh fish comes with men and their dhows, then goes to the market with women and their bowls.
The southern beaches of Mozambique are a popular holiday spot for South-Africans, and although it wasn't quite Easter when we visited, there were quite many white-skinned tourists around. Not that we have anything against tourists, it's just that when there are many, the local atmosphere is altered to the extent that it really makes you wonder if you're any longer in Africa or back in the "civilized" world. So we only passed through without spending too much time.
Together with the Slovenians we travelled down to the beach of Tofo that is famous for its surf - quite unlike the tranquil Vilanculos, the waves were truly powerful and the sand dunes were as tall as two-storey buildings.
At the famous Tofo beach with Dean and Vlasta.
Panorama of Tofo beach (click to enlarge)
High love in Tofo during the low tide.
We only spent there two nights before heading further South and sadly leaving the Slovenian team behind - they had some diving in mind, and although it would have been to at least snorkel in the world-famous waters off the Mozambican coast (we do not have the diving license), we decided to give it a miss. A long way home awaits us, and for this money we'll be able to move a couple of tankfuls closer to Estonia. We don't really mind travelling on a tight budget - camping and cooking our own food - but it means some really tough choices and compromises when it comes to all the exciting activities like boat trips, snorkelling and safaris.
On the way South we made a brief stop in Bilene, but it was infested with tourists, so we moved on.
Loading up the boat to cross the lagoon in Bilene.
Some African children don't need expensive hi-tec toys, they're smart enough to build their own.
Before we knew it was the South-African border...
"How much would you like to pay?"
"$30, like everybody else!"
And that's how much we paid. There must be people who actually pay what they ask, otherwise they just would not ask.
The road we took from there was a few hundred kilometers of dirt - sometimes bumpy, sometimes slippery.
Decent red dirt-track through North-Mozambique.
At some spots it wasn't decent enough - it's rainy season afterall, many roads can become unpassable with very hard rains.
Some old Portuguese colonial time insect fumigation post for vehicles - abandoned, obviously.
Till the weather got scary for us... But what colours!
Panorama from the road (click to enlarge each panorama)
Panorama just before the thunderstorm kicked in.
On the sides of the road the grass ws so tall you could barely see what's behind. Just as if we were riding in an oversized field. The locals greeted us with excited screams, and little hands waved at us, but there was also an air of slight distrust towards strangers on a big two-wheeled monster. But surely a Portuguese "Bom dia!" (because Mozambique used to be a Portuguese colony) or the good old "Assalam aleikum!" (there are many Muslims living in the northern and coastal parts of Mozambique, forming 20% of the total population, whereas there are some 25% Christians) let the ice melt away quickly.
Panorama from a bridge.
Meeting locals on the road.
First they wanted a smoke, but we don't smoke. Then they wanted some money - well you've got to work to earn it, not just standing still and looking at us. :lol3
A local Mozambiquan man had a very nice bicycle.
A cheer from a cowboy-hatted man in Mozambique!
Some church in Malema.
The landscapes were amazing, with huge rocks protruding from the ground, like petrified fairies, silent guards of the Earth. No wonder abouth half of Mozambique's population is of animist belief - there is something here that one cannot explain in words.
Decent landscape in North-Mozambique.
Rocky mountains...
African version of Australian's Kata Tjuta (click to enlarge every panorama)
Panorama of North-Mozambique's rocky mountains.
African version of Australia's Uluru rock (click to enlarge)
Panorama from the road.
The road went on like this for several hundreds of kilometers, and only turned to tar in Nampula. We were unfortunate enough to arrive in total darkness - even though we had been on the road since 7.30 in the morning. We were exhausted and tried to find the campground marked on the GPS map, but it wasn't there. Locals looked at us hesitantly when we rolled up and down the dark, dusty side streets looking for a place to stay. Nothing.
With some help from the locals we found a hotel, but they wanted 2200 meticais (or, roughly $73) for a double room, which is far, far above our budget - if such a thing any longer exists. So we asked if they would allow us to camp on their grounds - there was plenty of space. But no. And no discounts either! Surely enough, as we prepared to leave to search for another place, a fancy truck with USAID signs rolled in.
We looked on. The cheapest places place we could find still asked 1200 meticais for a room, but they were full, and in the end we had no choice but to stay at a crappy place with a flowing bathroom floor, for 1360 meticais ($45). This is what the budget range looks like in Mozambique. I remember, in Brazil which is a former colony of Portugal, just like Mozambique, accomodation was not the cheapest in the world, but hey, at least you got something in return. Not only is it decent, but you also get a fantastic breakfast thrown in for free. Mozambique was to be tough, we thought.
In the morning we discovered the front tyre was empty, and as I tried to fix it, the regular crowd gathered to enjoy the show.
Fixing a puncture that collected public fast - thank god we had tubeless tyres and thus a quick fix, otherwise all city men would had been around there! :lol3
Once the show is over we got onto the bike and zoomed off, direction: Mozambique Island, a UNESCO heritage site. After the chocking last night's experience we were more than delighted to find that it wasn't full of vacationing South-Africans and that we could actually find a decent place, and they didn't even charge too much. I mean, $30 is not little for a room with a shared bathroom, but breakfast was included, there was free WiFi, and it had a totally zen-ambience - just what we needed to get ourselves together, edit and upload some text and pictures, and get ready for the long journey down the coast.
Contrary to what we had imagined, Mozambique Island was quite different from Zanzibar. Just a few kilometers long and a few hundred meters wide - basically an overgrown village. But what a village!
The northern part of the island took us back to the Portuguese colonial times, but as it seems to happen everywhere in Africa, the magnificent buildings are left to rot - quite unlike in South- and Central-America where that kind of heritage is really well preserved.
Old Portugese style building that is now hospital in Ilha de Moçambique.
In front of an old and abandoned church.
Girl carrying freshly washed laundry back home.
Panorama from southern tip of Ilha de Moçambique (click to enlarge)
In the church garden.
Old rusted lock.
Window of an old abandoned shipyard.
Streets of Ilha de Moçambique.
Kariina on the promenade.
Local girls wanted a pic - they got some!
Mozambiquan ladies…
Got really naughty at times...
Door.
House on the beach.
Portugese style architecture everywhere...
In front of a church on Ilha de Moçambique.
Tribunal - colonial style.
Boy taking a brake on the street from the intense Quran-school.
Steps.
Everything is carried on the head.
A stare from one of the windows.
A bright white house on a tropical beach.
Many houses are left...
On the beach.
What is remarkable, is how many children there are on Mozambique Island, but considering that around half of the country's population is up to 14 years old, it quite makes sense. The kids, of course, are a fantastic subject for photography, and those on the island were no exception. They were begging to be photographed, and how could I have resisted... But the truth is that I would have loved to take more pictures of African women - so colourful and powerful - the true pillar of society, working (no, not from nine to five!) from long before sunrise up until late hours, while the men just seem to pass time chatting. But it ain't no easy feat in a mostly islamic society.
Panorama from Ilha de Moçambique during low tide (click to enlarge each panorama)
Mosque.
Recording from the same mosque :
..::: LISTEN :::..
Fishing boat during the low tide.
Mozambiquan beer - tastes really good.
A fort on one of the neighbouring coral islands.
Colours and braids...
Island boy.
Smile.
Curiosity.
Girls often have cool looking funky hair.
Boy on the promenade.
Under the palms.
Shoot me.
Older woman from the market.
Everything carried on the heads.
Women singing an islamic song during sunset:
...::: LISTEN :::...
Ilha de Moçambique's sherif - the boss of all police on the island.
Local Muslim.
Children on the beach.
Girls...
Girl carrying her younger sister.
Girls singing on the beach during night time:
...::: LISTEN :::...
Portrait of a local girl.
Gates to the island's graveyard.
Low tide.
Local AM (1224kHz) radio plays:
...::: LISTEN :::...
Local boyz...
They had a monkey.
On the beach.
Coming from a swim.
Beans at the market - bought 'em, cooked 'em and they tasted good!
Colourful women in the market.
Bread for sale.
Woman on the beach.
Children playing under an open air market shade.
One of the small islands with a fort on it.
Five days on Mozambique Island were enough, and by the end we were quite keen to get out of this big village and its caleidscope of faces and sounds. We wanted to experience something different for a change, to get some freedom, so we headed south, leaving behind the island and its people doing their daily chores.
Panorama from the bridge that goes to Ilha de Moçambique (click to enlarge)
Fishermen installing their nets.
Us, the road and the ride...
Since Mozambique is a rather prolonged contry it takes quite many days to overland from the one end to another. Quite many days, all pretty much the same - wake up with the sun, make some coffee and oats, pack the tent, start the bike, do five to six hundred kilometers of highway, stop the bike, pitch the tent, cook some spaghetti with tuna, go to sleep. Next day, same drill. Generally we prefer to go slower and take it easy, but who ever we've spoken to actually agrees that there is a looooong stretch of road connecting the north and the south of the country that just does not have nuch to offer except for a lot of kilometers,
The only exciting moment on that stretch of road was when we had pitched our tent on the grounds of a catholic mission in Mocuba. The sun was setting and in the nearby chapel some heavy worshipping was going on. It was not the regular singing, but something more powerful, like cleansing of the soul through emotional, almost aggressive verbalising of thoughts and feelings.
A few days later, soaking from the rain that had been battering us from the day before, we arrived in Vilankulo, where we were happy to meet our Slovenian friends Dean and Vlasta again. Something spectacular was going on with the sky and the ocean, the clouds receding, admitting their defeat, and the light of the setting sun putting on an ever-inspiring show.
Panorama of the stunning sunset colours above the Indian ocean (click to enlarge)
The next day we rose with the sun and had a refreshing swim in the sea, while the light was still mellow and the high tide still caressing the palm-studded coast.
Panorama of the sunrise - Kariina comes from a swim (click to enlarge)
Sunrise colours.
Sunken boat dry during low tide.
The day was destined to be cloudy, but for the locals it was a day like any other. The fishermen bringing in the fresh catch, the women haggling over the price and carrying it home on their heads in huge plastic bowls. We too, with Dean struck a deal with the fishermen and so we had fresh fish and calamari on our table for that night - lit up that fantastig grill plate of theirs and had without doubt some of the most delicious calamari we have ever tasted. Pure gourmet.
Fishermen came with fresh catch, we bought and after cooking it tasted superb!
Dean holding some funky fish.
What fish is that?
At the shore women waiting their men to return from the sea with fish.
The next day was straight out of a postcard. The sky was deep blue, dotted with only a few surreally sculpted fluffs of cloud. The turquoise waters receded to the horizon seemed to be so far away, but still so close it seemed you could almost touch them, just stetch your hand across the bright sand and..
"With my eyes and thoughts glued to the horizon, I started walking across the wet sand. I could hear its call and I followed it. There was so much space around me - the sand was so flat and the sky was so high that I would have liked to take off and fly. Before I knew I was running through the warm, salty air towards the horizon, as fast as I could. I only woke up from this fantasy when I heard thin, clicking sounds around me - it was hundreds of small crabs fleeing into their small nests - just holes in the sand - from the mad intruder. I stopped, breathless. The blue waters were still far away."
Panorama from the Vilanculo beach (click to enlarge)
Boats on dry.
A cloud and a boat...
It was as if we had found ourselves in paradise. We decided to stay another day.
The next day was a total contrast - overcast, with a hint of a storm - which of course meant fantastic colours both in the air and the water. As the waters receded with the low tide, the beach turned into a desert, with strong wind dragging the fine sand along the ground. How many different faces can a place have!
Low tide in cloudy weather.
Fishermen returning from the sea.
Boys on the beach.
Fresh fish from the boats goes directly to the market - women and children do the transportation and selling job.
King prawn from the Indian ocean.
Boats returning at dusk.
Bay in stormy weather.
Fresh fish comes with men and their dhows, then goes to the market with women and their bowls.
The southern beaches of Mozambique are a popular holiday spot for South-Africans, and although it wasn't quite Easter when we visited, there were quite many white-skinned tourists around. Not that we have anything against tourists, it's just that when there are many, the local atmosphere is altered to the extent that it really makes you wonder if you're any longer in Africa or back in the "civilized" world. So we only passed through without spending too much time.
Together with the Slovenians we travelled down to the beach of Tofo that is famous for its surf - quite unlike the tranquil Vilanculos, the waves were truly powerful and the sand dunes were as tall as two-storey buildings.
At the famous Tofo beach with Dean and Vlasta.
Panorama of Tofo beach (click to enlarge)
High love in Tofo during the low tide.
We only spent there two nights before heading further South and sadly leaving the Slovenian team behind - they had some diving in mind, and although it would have been to at least snorkel in the world-famous waters off the Mozambican coast (we do not have the diving license), we decided to give it a miss. A long way home awaits us, and for this money we'll be able to move a couple of tankfuls closer to Estonia. We don't really mind travelling on a tight budget - camping and cooking our own food - but it means some really tough choices and compromises when it comes to all the exciting activities like boat trips, snorkelling and safaris.
On the way South we made a brief stop in Bilene, but it was infested with tourists, so we moved on.
Loading up the boat to cross the lagoon in Bilene.
Some African children don't need expensive hi-tec toys, they're smart enough to build their own.
Before we knew it was the South-African border...
