Eating fresh fruit and fish in paradise…one year in the bag
After more than enough time spent on Ilha, I went in search of a long, secluded beach nearby. This time, I was with Oscar, who I had met a few times before in Mozambique. We took a dhow (Arab sailing boat) to the mainland. Getting to and from the dhow involved wading through full-leg-deep water while carrying our backpacks, and was a logistical challenge. Perhaps more for Oscar, though, as he’s the one who fell in the water, backpack and all. On the mainland a local man appointed himself as our guide and led us though mangrove fields to our beach at Carrusca.
After a good hour’s walk we finally approached Carrusca…confronted with turquoise waters and a beautiful sandy beach extending forever in both directions, we threw down our bags and admired our new location. What an amazing, beautiful place. We were approached by a local boy who offered to show us a house to rent. House is perhaps a glorification of what really was a shelter constructed made of bamboo and a thatched roof (with lots of holes); no doors, no windows, and a sand floor, 30 seconds walk to the water. No sooner did we agree to take the place than the boy and his buddy started evening out the sand floor and taking orders for dinner – one fish and one lobster, undoubtedly fresh given the wide ocean in front of us.
For some dumb reason I made the decision to accompany the boy in search of cooking oil and our request for beverages. I thought I was simply going a few huts down…as if I hadn’t walked far enough that day, this took me on a 2-hour long excursion, including wading chest-deep in a mangrove swamp. Luckily I had plenty of time to relax that evening as the boys cooked up our dinner over a fire made from empty coconut shells.
The next day was September 21st…for those interested enough to pay attention, it was my one year anniversary of embarking on this trip. (This also reveals how far I am behind in the upkeep of this blog!) I spent the day relaxing on the beach, singing (i.e. making up lyrics) for “Sweet Home Chicago”, which got stuck in my head after enlightening Oscar on the finer points of my hometown, including the Blues. He left in the afternoon (always moving at a faster pace than me), and I had the whole beach to myself…I wandered, lay in the sand, and
I had originally planned a big party with whomever was around on the day of my one-year travel birthday (to steal a term from someone else). But I cannot imagine a better place to sit and reflect on the events of the past year. While it didn’t seem like a full year (does it ever?), I suppose it felt like a long time since I had been home.
As the day came to an end, I made myself dinner, which, due to the high winds, was more sand than anything else, and I went to sleep early…there’s not much to do after dark when you’re by yourself without electricity. As I got into my tent, I said goodnight to the three sets of eyes peeking up at me – these were my boys, my guards for the night. They took shelter from the wind and rain on a mat made of palm leaves, under a woolen blanket; we did our best to block the wind, but there was still a hefty breeze inside. And here I am, thinking I’m all bad ass, living in a tent on a secluded beach by myself. These boys outdid me, for sure.
I woke up early the next morning and as I left my tent I saw the same three sets of eyes peer up at me in unison. “Good morning.” “Good morning” they replied as one. As I got up to enjoy the morning, they got busy to work raking the sand around the entire shelter area (as they had done the previous morning). I bought a papaya, had breakfast, and enjoyed the day. In the afternoon I left, packing up and walking about an hour down the beach to the next town, where I would supposedly get transport.
I didn’t find transport that day, so I pitched my tent in the garden of some hotel and left the next morning. My next stop was Nacala, at a beautiful, fairly isolated spot overlooking Nacala Bay. I spent a few days there snorkling, scuba diving, and watching the whales breaching water in the distance. And, just when I thought my tour of beautiful spots would continue (northern Mozambique abounds with beautiful spots), due to a potential visa problem, I was advised to go back to Nampula. Boring, ugly, bedbug-ridden Nampula.
Tags: Mozambique, Mozambique, Tag Index
Tania
January 24th, 2007 at 12:31 pm
Wow a hotel with complimentary garden accomadations. got to make a note of that. Those bed bugs obviously wanted seconds.