MadagasCAT

I was contemplating just what it must be like to be a male Weaver Bird. This poor guy does nothing but build nests all day, every day. And then, the little Weaver Bitch just tears it down – with no apparent rhyme or reason, for him to have to start the cycle all over again. What lead me to this contemplation – the fact that I have had to remove the debris of about 10 palm trees from my pool over this, supposed, summer. 2011 is shaping up to be the War of the Weavers.

I suppose that most people will be thinking “just how long can a report on sitting on your arse on a catamaran on the sea be?”. I don’t know either, time will tell. Read on McDuff!!

Apart from the fact that there was a little confusion on departure time which caused us to arrive 2 hours early at the airport, our departure and arrival in Nosy Be were uneventful, despite a moment’s concern when my luggage was the last off. Morgz’ experience was still fresh in my mind. Quickly changing some Dollars to Ariary from a lady on the side of the road at the less than advertised rate, we were swept off to our destination by Romeo (not a romeo) – with Nes and Di getting giggly at the thought of us being hi-jacked by a Johnny Depp type pirate (secretly Derek and I were quite excited by the thought of a scantily clad Kiera Knightly). It was already dark and the road taken made us think that the hi-jacking might occur sooner rather than later – only for us to end up at the grandly named “Nosy Be Marina” and jumped (okay, climbed gingerly) into a very small rubber duck that took us to our home for the next 5 days – Gecko.

We were greeted by Albert (the skipper), Jean Yves (the chef) and Maurice (the deckhand) who were our amazing hosts for this trip. We stowed our kit and got busy with the task of enjoying ourselves – and were welcomed with fresh crab and THB (the local beer, which we were to sample in fair quantities). But first, some background;

The craft. Gecko is 35ft Catamaran, registered in Cape Town. It has 4 berths – 2 en-suite and two smaller ones. The en-suite consists of a double bed, fairly small; a few cupboards, enough for our limited luggage; and the bathroom in a separate enclosure – with pump toilet (that took some getting used to) a hand shower and a basin. To shower, you simply held it and showered (with warm water) and stood in the bathroom. A pump would get rid of the water when you were finished.

There were a few portholes that allowed air into the cabin and bathroom. The bed had a large hatch above it which you could climb out of. If it was hot (as it was all of the time) you left the hatch open to allow the breeze in. If it rained at night you had to close the hatch, and the cabin quickly became a little sauna.

There was a stateroom that had a kitchen with fridges and freezers, table and a seating area. The crew spent their idle time there – we spent none, other than to step in and get drinks from the fridge.

Outside, aft, was another covered seating area where we spent all of our meals and used quite often to escape the sun. There were steps from there to anywhere else – including the water. You could walk down the sides of the stateroom to the fore where you could sit or lie on the deck, or in chairs on the point of each hull. There was more than enough room for each of us to be comfortable and spend quiet time if you so desired.

The craft had a depth gauge, speedo, wind meter and an awesome GPS. It also had an autopilot, which was mostly engaged. It had sufficient batteries to power the fridges, provide light and power the pumps.

We spent most of the moving time under power by two 20hp diesel motors which also charged the batteries. They were very quiet and not intrusive at all. The sails were used on occasion, when the wind was sufficient. They were managed by a sophisticated set of pulleys and ropes that made it all seem quite simple.

We were always comfortable and at ease. Sea sickness or queasiness was never a factor.

The food. Were I more gastronomically driven, I could devote an entire blog to this. Jean Yves was a wizard – a properly trained and committed chef. He loved what he did, and you could taste it in his food. Crab, prawns, calamari, veggies, rice, meat, eggs, pasta, spices, salads, bread where continually combined into a delightful, aromatic and tasty combinations and arrays of food. Beautifully presented and prepared. Our own catches (yes we did) were turned into the finest kebabs, sashimi (Coota and Bonita) and fish – baked, braaied, grilled, steamed – in sauce, no sauce. It was amazing – and no two meals even looked similar. Scrambled eggs, French bread, pancakes. Chocolate Mousse – made from scratch. It just went on and. He seemed to spend the whole day just preparing food and, for us, it was worth every minute spent. Other than breakfast, I don’t think we ever finished a meal, although we really tried.

We waited, in eager anticipation, for every meal to arrive. It was always accompanied by gasps of awe and appreciation. If food excites you – do this trip for that alone. It will be worth every cent – provided Jean Yves is on board.

We emerged from the Marina at Mossie Poep on day one and took a fairly long journey south. This was to be our regular waking time with the artistic side of Derek taking a porthole shot (that probably doesn’t sound right and could leave the mind boggling) every morning. We moved over the impossibly blue waters surrounding Madagascar. I dwelt, at length, on this in the last trip and won’t do so again, but there were times when you felt that you could see 15 meters down. We stopped to snorkel at (what we called) South Africa island and got our first taste of how inviting this water was to be in – all of us taking in some rays at the same time. After some relaxation (okay, it was all relaxation) and a small siesta we hoisted the mains’l (arrgghh) and made our way to our overnight destination – a wide estuary – further south, where we did what we learned to do best – drinks, dinner and just chill.

Another early rise and out of the estuary. I retired to the throne, and suddenly the CAT was all over the place. I dashed out to see what was going on. Nothing to do with my ministrations - there were seabirds diving and fish jumping. The CAT’s manoeuvres were our skipper chasing the fish and two of the rods had fish on the end. Two decent sized king fish were landed.

 It wasn’t long afterwards and we had a Barracuda and a Spanish mackerel on board as well. Derek and I had broken the duck of a number of years and had actually caught some fish. We definitely weren’t going to starve. After that excitement (and fun) we moved on to Nosy Iranja.

Those that remember our last trip will remember that this is the leg that we missed - apparently the natives were restless. As we neared these two small islands, joined by a sandbar, we realised that that was a load of codswollop!! There weren’t enough natives on these two islands to raise a decent bar brawl. It would appear that the Dhow skipper was just too lazy to take us all that way. This stop was to be one of the highlights of the trip. The water and surrounds were breathtaking.

It was still, windless and hot. We wasted no time in strapping on the snorkelling kit and dived straight into a school of 1000’s of small fish. It was amazing how the whole shoal moved in unison, as though connected. We’d never seen anything like this – and the clarity of the water gave us amazing sight of these fish – with the occasional Barracuda feeding on them. Incredible – we felt honoured to have been given this opportunity. So honoured, in fact, that when we reached the sandbar I was nominated to swim back to the CAT to load up a cooler box. This was obviously because of my “Thorpe like” physique and swimming prowess. It could not possibly have been that I might just have been too stupid to find a decent argument.

So there we were (most of us anyway), cracking a beer after about 4 ½ hours of being awake, on the sandbank connecting the two islands. Did I mention that this was about 9:30 in the morning?

We spent a bit of time on the bar and then whiled away the rest on the CAT – through another incredible feast and siesta (we needed these you see) and then made our way to Russia Bay where we were to shelter for the night. More stunning sunsets, more stunning beer, more stunning food and more stunning sleep. We were seldom to make it later than 20:30 before retiring to bed.

Bright and early (again) in Russia Bay, and we made our way to an island close by after an early morning swim. The water today was amazingly clear (again) and we watched apparently harmless jelly fish pass under the CAT on the way to this island. The name, as are many Madagascar names, was long and it escapes me. Nes and I dived in and made our way to the rocks to snorkel. We dived out just as quickly – there were little floating tentacles, a bit like a bluebottle tail, that stung and make snorkelling a little uncomfortable. This was apparently because of the neap tides that we were having, and these creatures didn’t get washed away. Oh well, no harm done, and we just watched the fish from the CAT – the clear water allowed us a bird’s eye view. These things weren’t going away so we went back to South Africa is land to snorkel a bit more and then spend some time on the beach. Very cool!!

Today is the day before New Year. We’d decided to go to Sakatia Resort for some R&R and time on land, so we made our way towards that on the roughest seas to date. Still no sign of sea sickness though (and no hangovers either). Wonder if they’re related? Some people remained on deck and some went for their regular siestas. It was at this time that we became aware of a stealthy thief in our midst – though one would never normally apply the word “stealth” to this individual. Two rods suddenly got hammered – I picked up one and Di the other – accompanied by an excited shout. This shout disturbed the thief. He appeared from below decks, grabbed the rod out of Di’s hands and despite my admonitions that his line was over mine he landed a decent sized Bonita. Because of this dastardly approach, I had to keep my fish under control until he finished.

While I was doing this a fair sized grey/brown creature came up and bit the back end off my Bonita – which was close to the CAT. Blood filled the water, I let the line out and the shark returned to take the rest, just cutting the line with its teeth. It was amazing and left the pulse racing. After the obligatory picture, the thief then disappeared below decks again, without having said a word. What a fiend!! After this, we watched our rods with care!!

I managed to hook a Spanish mackerel (couta) just before getting to Sakatia. I was so busy trying not to make a noise (in case the thief returned) that I managed to let the drag go and achieved a massive overwind. Despite this embarrassment, I still managed to land it.

We moored someway out and took the little duck to the resort, where we had a few beers and managed to see some Lemurs which came down very near the chalets. This was quite something, seeing them wild!! We also experienced our first tast of ground swell. Sitting in the lounge chairs we still felt as though we were on the CAT. While having these beers, we saw the little duck tracing erratic patterns in the water near the CAT. This was confusing as it was supposed to be fetching us and not going the other way!! Anyway, Maurice eventually arrived to pick us up. When we got back to the CAT, there was the biggest Kingfish that I’d ever seen, lying on the deck. When we saw it Maurice’s face lit up like a beacon. He had managed to hook this monster with a handline, and then jumped into the duck for this fish to drag him all over the place until her could land it. This explained the erratic movement of the duck. That Kingfish must have been all of 70Kgs – and Maurice had brought it in on a handline – and amazing feat (in our minds at least).

We’d decided to spend the night on the CAT, rather than at the Sakatia restaurant. Great decision as it turned out - our New Years Eve celebrations ended at 20:45, after the expected scrumptious feast – Bonita sashimi, grilled couta in sauce and veggies, and grilled Kingfish.

Happy New Year everybody!! Off to Nosy Komba (Lemur Island) today. We hadn’t spent a single Ariary to date and those of you that know her would know that Nes was getting itchy. After a short dive we went to the Island for the obligatory Lemur (Maki) tour – same as last time. Very canned, and just a little sad, but they sure are cute with wonderfully soft and inquisitive hands as they sit on you and eat the proffered bananas.

Then some shopping. Unfortunately (fortunately?), being New Years Day, many of the shops were closed, but Nes and Di still managed some acquisitions and then back to the CAT. We were going to moor near the little settlement on the island, but the sounds of the New Year celebrations were very loud and were expected to continue well into the night. Having got used to the quiet, we decided to move on and shelter from the Westerly and dreaded Southerly wind (remember this!). It was the most magnificent evening, with our first real experience of a clear Madagascar night sky since we’d arrived. We made the most of that and then settled in for the usual early evening. A very strong wind came up that night – a bloody Easterly. This was the only night that we felt that we might be thrown out of our bunks by the movement of the CAT, and had a somewhat disturbed sleep. Up early for a swim and coffee and an early departure. This was to be our last day and we were determined to make the most of it – today was Nosy Tanikily – the traditional last day destination – if twice can be tradition.

OH! MY! WORD!!! (or, “bloody marvellous”, as the thief would say) The clarity, stillness and warmth of the water did it for us again. This then was the other highlight. We jumped into the water at 08:00 in the morning and snorkelled until after 10:00. When we climbed out, our flesh was as winkled as a bunch of prunes. The colours and variety of the fish and coral just kept you going. We followed turtles as they just gracefully swam around, blissfully unfazed by our presence. As you swam you just kept trying to attract the attention of your partner, to point out something new and wonderful. I found Nemo as well!! We carried on frolicking in the water for ages afterwards, reluctant to admit that this was the last swim of this wonderful trip. It was with more than a touch of sadness that we made our way back to Nosy Be Marina to spend our last night on board the Gecko.

After breakfast we bid really fond farewells to the crew. They had been amazing and were far more than partly responsible for the success and enjoyment of this trip. Friendly, courteous, professional and efficient – it appeared that they found pleasure in helping you to enjoy a CAT trip of a lifetime.

Our flight was to take us from Nosy Be, to Antsinarana where we changed planes to fly to Antananarivo. It was apparent that little attention had been made to process and efficiency on Air Madagascar, and we had some head shaking wonder at times. But, so what? We had just had a fantastic rest and holiday and were not about to get upset by little things.

When we arrived in Tana, we quickly checked into a very pleasant hotel and took a trip into the town to try and get hold of some of the Madagascar cotton T-shirts and a few other things. We managed find a really good taxi driver who helped make our quest pretty successful. A point to note here is the pleasant surprise we had when we saw how Anatananarivo had changed last we were here. Whilst there was quite a degree of apparent poverty, the streets and town were really clean and many of the vehicles are new – on not just French. There are very real signs of an improving economy since the departure of the last president who, by all accounts, caused lasting damage to Madagascar due to his greed. This was particularly evident in Nosy Be which had seen no improvement and appeared to be treated as a poor second cousin.

When we had started out, we were quite dismayed and felt that a week wasn’t long enough. It turned out that it was, and we were ready to be off the CAT. This despite the fact that we had loved every minute of our time on board – for all sorts of reasons. In what appears to be a complete contradiction, it was a week packed full of rest and relaxation.

Four people was a perfect number and we again found that the Britz’s are the ideal travelling companions – each person giving the other the space they desired and the time we spent together was quality time. I’ve said it before in other accounts of trips – Derek and Di, you’re welcome on our CAT at any time.

Oh yes – I forgot. I love my car!!

Our Blue Safari – Heading South

Our Quartermaster would tell me that the title is incorrect because I use “track up” on the Garmin, and that the heading is actually South West – any way, it’s southish.

Same roads, different direction. Down to Morongula about 15 km’s on a good dirt road. Check in worked well and looked good enough, with the reception having a beautiful view over the ocean.

 It was still really warm, and the weather remained awesome. I’m not sure what contacts Di has with the weather makers, but they sure are handy to have. Down a really steep hill to beach level, find our campsite and “discuss” for a while to – you guessed it – decide who would camp where. We used the available space again and grabbed more than one campsite. One of the things that Mocambique campsites really have got right is the baraccas at nearly every campsite. They make such a good base for a kitchen and gathering area. This was no exception.

The campsite was a 10m walk from the beach – which stretched for miles in either direction. This stretch was apparently 60 km of uninterrupted beach and we had to spend four nights here – bugger!!

Much of the 3 full days there are in my mind as a blur of lying on the beach, long walks in either direction and hours on end in the water. Those of you that know me know that hours of swimming aren’t my favourite pastime, but here it most definitely was. The days were hot and the water really warm. This was our first real beach opportunity since Pomene, and we made the most of it. The guys even made use of the somewhat weird frisbee that we had bought to while away the idle hours just floating in the water. It really was quite awesome just to float around, doing pretty much nothing.

We found some roadside shopping just outside of the campsite and bought a whole lot of things – T-shirts mainly and some really fresh paus. These were to be our brunch or lunch on most days, depending on how the mood took us. Afternoons were normally spent relaxing in the shade after lunch and a few beers.

On the second day our Quartermaster went to work again. A bit of bargaining and negotiating and we were the proud owners of 8 kg of Crayfish at a very reasonable price (seriously – about R400). These things were HUGE. Much activity and organisation centred on preparing these. Again, I stood back and let the seafood chefs, Pete and Derek, have their space. An hour or two and a few drinks later these monsters found their way onto our plates and, with much ceremony, the feast began. Oh my word!! I opted for the smallest, and couldn’t finish all of it – I have no idea how the others managed.

The next day was similar to the one before – and just as relaxing – followed by a tasty seafood paella, courtesy of Margie and the fish from Vilancoulos – the freezers worked as well as ever. Always food, cold beer and always ice – what else is there?

By this time I was starting to suffer from a seafood overload and didn’t think I could manage anymore. Nes was encouraging me like a tired, nearly defeated boxer, quietly whispering “you can do it”. The next night we were saved - Portuguese chicken in the restaurant, and I was not the only person that opted for that. Yet another good evening was had as our holiday slowly drew to a close. The next move and night was to be our last before departing for home.

That night was so incredibly warm that we left the nets open on the tents, after a cold water shower in the open. It didn’t help.

As an aside, I really enjoyed Morongula. The campsites were large, mostly grassed and shaded. Good baracca, power supplied and fair ablutions. The surroundings and beach were wonderful. If I were running the place, I would definitely move the pub, shop and restaurant closer to where the people are. It was a bit out of the way and a schlep to get there and back.

Given that we had to go past Xa-Xai again, and we had about 450 km’s to go, it was a relatively early start. The road was as slow and lumpy as we remembered. So much so that we had a late lunch in Biline before heading on down to the Palmeiras campsite. This was the area where the original Portuguese inhabitants of Maputo used to stay for long weekends and holidays. The weather was starting to close in and look ominous for the first time on our trip. We parked (quite quickly this time) and did the minimum of unpacking for this stay – pretty much just opening the tent – and then a quick turn for some shopping at the market nearby. Certainly not the best that we had been to, so we didn’t waste much time there and made our way to the campsite pub on the lagoon. It’s a pity the weather wasn’t great as I would like to have seen a little more of it (the lagoon). That night we had our final holiday dinner at the restaurant and most of us (including me) were back on seafood, and sad to be winding up, but it never stopped the enjoyment.

We were woken quite early in the morning by the rain, so we leapt up and packed and were gone in no time. Given that none of us relished the drive via Maputo on a weekday we leapt at the chance to take the road less travelled, as described to us by a fellow traveller that we had met on the way.

It was pee’ing pretty steadily by this time, with occasional heavy rain, as we took the detour. It started off well enough, on tar, until we hit the end of our Garmins. (1st time ever) and Pete saved us with a piddling Tom Tom which had this track on it. By the time we hit the track much of it was like a river, with thick, slippery mud everywhere. At one stage we met a truck coming the other way that was not budging out of the middle. Derek and I thought we’d made it by when the trailers just developed minds of their own and slid, gently, off the centre into deep mud on the side. There was a moment’s consternation when I thought that I might need to be pulled out by a Land Rover. Thank God it never happened!! Pete and Derek seemed okay in their vehicles, but we struggled. I prefer to think that this was the tyres rather than the driver – I’ll stick with that until I get new tyres. Mine became like racing slicks, and the only time I was halfway sure of the direction that I was going in was if I was in someone else’s tracks. I think Pete and Derek had a ball. I must confess that I only really enjoyed this stretch when I think back on it. Given the chance, we would definitely (even me) do this route again, especially on a good day. The surroundings were picturesque and an infinitely better way than the arse end of Maputo. It’s now on our Gamins as well.

Carrying probably 30 kg’s of mud we were again helped through the Mozambique border by another set of helpful locals that we encountered, with only a few rands changing hands, and the SA side was pretty painless.

After a breakfast in Komatipoort, our holidays were over and took our leave at Nelspruit. Holiday pretty much over – only the driving and unpacking ahead, with the Britz’s or Pike’s secretly thankful that we didn’t have Pete and Margie’s distance to go.

In the final analysis, Mozambique is still a great place to visit and there are enough places to go to that are of good quality and price. Pomene, Morungala and Billfish Lodge are definite recommendations. Only Billfish doesn’t have a camping option and the other two have chalet options. The people are more friendly and open, and less poverty stricken, than on our last visit. You are able to, quite comfortably, stop in some local pubs and restaurants along the way. Moz is opening up, roads are improving and fuel is easy to find – don’t waste too much time before you go there. You’re going to have to go further and further north to enjoy the unspoiled environments.

It was an incredibly restful holiday where Nes and I had a ball and just want to say “Pete and Margie for the 1st time, and Derek and Di for the umpteenth, it was a wonderful trip that you helped make great”. We’re getting really good at this, taking a few more spur of the moment decisions that add different options and nuances to the trips. And, as I always say, we gotta do this again. Not necessarily the same trip, but certainly giving the trailers / tents / vehicles a run in the wild again.

T100, over and out – for this trip.

Our Blue Safari - Further North

It’s almost incongruous, sitting here in very chilly weather, thinking back to the 35 degrees on Mocambique. It’s a bit like having a helluva hangover and trying to think back on how well you felt before you got so pissed. God only knows how the folks in Barkly are feeling.

We got away from Pomene without much ado, but with a lot of sand, and made our way towards the next stop – Vilancoulos, which had evoked such stirring thoughts of tropical Africa at its best.

The road was pretty uneventful out of Pomene, just being delayed by the locals taking their cattle for walks again, and a short shopping stop at a village before the EN1. The EN1 lived up to our expectations and stayed pretty bad for much of the way. It did get better after about 80km’s and we arrived at our campsite with plenty of daylight to spare. We were spoilt for choice and took full advantage – we each took our own campsites. Despite this, we still took an inordinate amount of time to arrange who went where (“will this ever stop?” he asks) and how best to get the tents levelled – the campsite was on a fair slope. Two of the sites had baraccas and one was set up us the kitchen. Nes was there, so it didn’t take long for the stray dogs and cats to arrive for their Xmas.

So, Bluewater Beach Resort had nice grass, good army-like ablutions, a nice pub and a fantastic pool, which we spent hours in. I do not want to say – and then we went for a swim – so I won’t. We were to spend 4 nights here. No sooner had we set up, had a few beers and a swim, than a smooth purveyor of Dhow trips arrived and we were booked for a snorkelling trip the next day. On advice we ensured that this Dhow had a motor. Forgive me, but on this trip I cannot remember what we had to eat on each night, but we ate really well, courtesy of the normal diligent planning. Suffice it to say, each night we had something good to eat and something good to drink, so our spiritual wellbeing was never in doubt. The last night of each stay was at the local restaurant. Those meals that stand out in my mind will be dealt with accordingly. For a change, we did have a sufficient number of meals on a fire.

Oh, by the way, it was still incredibly warm – in fact the weather was unbelievably good. Di promised this – and she delivered.

Up bright and early, cooler boxes packed, to catch our motorised Dhow – only to find out it was just a Dhow. We were assured that the motor was working yesterday. Pete, a regular Moz traveller, says that this is SOP. Anyway, we could see the island across the incredibly blue water of this archipelago, so it shouldn’t be an issue. Add to this what we didn’t know - that the water all but disappears into a series of channels and sandbanks when the tide is out, and that without a bit of a wind, the Dhow didn’t really move much, and that the island of Magaruque was actually about 13 km’s away. Our trusty slaves (Dhow owner and assistants) threw their backs into it and rowed. With only the occasional whipping from us they rowed. And they rowed. And they rowed. They were amazingly fit and maintained an endless chatter (we did help push once or twice when the water got too shallow) Four and half hours later we arrived at the island.

We snorkelled at the small reef of the island. Our first taste of this was wonderful, somewhat limited in size, but not in clarity and colour. And, of course, the water was sooooo warm. While we did this, the slaves set up a small gazebo (4 sticks and plastic sheeting) and made lunch. We had watched our lunch staring at us from the bottom of the boat on the way out, and it was added to by some crab and squid – fresh from the water.

Despite our (my) misgivings, the lunch was a delicious seafood stew and rice – with salad. It was the taste of this that had us pondering whether we are sometimes just a little too worried about fridges and freezing (other than for beers and ice, of course) A stiff breeze (this is what coastal people call wind) and tide had come up by this time. We packed and were back at the campsite in just over an hour. Despite the missing motor, an entertaining day was had by all. Before the crew left, our supply chain manager, or quartermaster, Derek, had lined up dinner for the next night. We passed the evening in the time honoured tradition of eating, drinking and feeding the animals.

A slow morning was followed by a visit to the town of Vilancoulos, to draw money (they had quite a few ATM’s, that worked) buy some of their magnificent pau (bread) and go to the market to buy “stuff”. This was a pretty typical market and most of us found something that we wanted, including some very reasonably priced Famous Grouse and some really cheap cigarettes. Next stop was to have a look at the harbour.

The harbour was not grand, with some fairly tired fishing boats and wrecks around, but there were boats and a hotel that is busy being refurbished after many years of disuse – since the civil war. On the way down we saw a sign pointing to a Smugglers pub. How could we resist? So we didn’t, and passed a pleasant few hours sampling more local fare.

On the way back our quartermaster found his supplier – and there we were, a huge fish on the roof rack, tons of blue crab and the supplier hanging on the running boards. We were set for dinner – at a very reasonable price.

A lazy afternoon on beds and around the pool and Pete and Derek busied themselves readying the feast. Never really being much of a seafood aficionado, I made the fire. Wow, what a feast. The fish was too big for one sitting, so it was filleted and half was frozen for a later date, and we must have had about 12 crabs.

I confess to being someone who is really not given to devouring shell fish and tearing them limb from limb from limb with my fingers, or sucking the last morsels from these limbs, albeit with help from a whole lot of pliers. But, I was pretty much alone in this and the crab was attacked with gusto – with only the slurping and cracking breaking the still of the night. I must say, what I did have was really very tasty. This was followed by what was later proclaimed to be some of the best fish ever eaten. Well done Derek, with able assistance from Pete. A stunning meal.

At this juncture, it would be right to say “thank goodness” for camp helpers – to wash and clean. In truly colonial fashion, we made use of this service at every campsite. For those that might be horrified by our exploitation of the locals – hey – there are upsides to living in deepest, darkest Africa. This is one of the big ones.

The next day was, in army parlance, spent at leisure. A good breakfast, a short walk – made more interesting by Margie sinking into a crab hole up to her neck, to be rescued in the nick of time, before she sunk right down.

Okay, so it was just up to her knee and we just pulled her out, but it did sound exciting for a moment. Poetic license rules!! And then lazy time spent around the pool. You might have picked up by now that Vilancoulos did not have great beaches – they were more mud patches covered in sand, albeit also by clear blue water, so the pool was an absolute bonus. Being in the heart of fresh squid land (sea?) we all had a good evening of calamari and drinks in the pub.

We probably over stayed at Vilancoulos, but had we taken a slightly faster boat on day one we would probably have seen more of the islands, which would appear to be the main attractions of the place. However, the Dhow trip was fun and the seafood was great. Did we have a good time? Absolutely, yes!! This is what these trips are about – enjoyment and exploration.

We stopped in Vilancoulos, after a long detour via the airfield (looking for Mozambique stickers) to draw more money and buy more beer and bread and then made our way to our northern most destination – Inhassoro and Billfish Lodge.

More interesting roads were encountered and this stretch is worthy of a mention. It was my first time on a single lane tar road, made very interesting by the larger vehicles coming the other way who felt that that one lane was theirs. Anyway, we made it.

We had to take a small detour as the road to Billfish Lodge had washed away at some time, but we arrived there, quite early, on our hottest day so far. I cannot remember what the temperature was, but I do know that the men were sweating like pigs and the women were glowing like pigs. (I’m told that women don’t sweat). We checked in and grabbed a few beers to ward off encroaching dehydration. What a beautiful lodge – no camping this time – we knew that we would enjoy our two days here.

Those beers were very quickly turned into a deluge of sweat as we moved our kit into the chalet, which was really well kitted out. Each room was en-suite and air-conditioned. Not that we had lived rough, but this was stunning. The whole placed was well finished, with wooden pathways and decks, and really well maintained. We spent that afternoon lounging around the pool and considering our own great fortune to be able to do this type of thing. To give an indication of how warm it could get, one half of the pool was covered by an awning.

At this stage we also booked our next day’s excursion – a trip to see Santa Carolina (Paradise) Island and to snorkel around there and Nes starting hatching her business plan in earnest. Nothing better than a cocktail in the hot sun, planning a future!!

That night we turned on the aircon. Too cold. Set it to 27 degrees and later turned it off. We were getting cold – go figure!!

Up bright and early, down a long, steep, knee creaking flight of stairs, and onto the beach. As an aside, this too wasn’t a great beach – miles in either direction, but covered in seaplant leaves. Today we have 20 km’s to go to the island. Thoughts of time and the Dhow kept intruding, but half an hour later on the rubber duck and we were walking onto the beach of Paradise Island (local name), but also known as Santa Carolina of Survivor South Africa fame.

Juan (I think that was his name) dropped off the lunch “stuff” and we went around to the abandoned hotel on the island. This was amazing to see – yet another hotel that came to grief during the civil war. Juan was a mine of information. The hotel took up much of the island, with beautiful views from each room. The whole layout was evidence of the much better, genteel times that Mocambique had lived through, and the people that it attracted and entertained.

Even Bob Dylan had played and stayed here. Much of the hotel was crumbling and it was evident that this would not be a simple restoration job. We found out that this had been bought by arabs whose plan is to demolish it and start again. If this does happen, we wondered whether we might be amongst the last people to visit this island freely. If that is the case, and you’re up that way, this island is a must see. Not to go and see a crumbling hotel surely?

Nope!! The beaches were stunning, but the best parts were the reefs around the island. We snorkelled at two spots. The 1st was in a protected cove – the water was shallow, but the coral was unspoiled and colourful, with a huge variety of fish that were completely un-fazed by us being there. A smallish white-tip shark even crossed the reef and came pretty close to Margie to feed. The water was impossibly clear, and the white reflection of the sand created the feel of a tropical paradise – even sitting on the boat we were able to take clear pictures of the fish in the water. After a few sarmies in the shade on the beach we went to another spot on the other side of the island. The water was deeper here and the effort was a bit more with the tidal wash, but it was a massive coral bed.

There was just so much to see, fish, coral, huge clams, shells and so on. The variety was mind boggling. It was unspoiled, unmarked and magnificent. This is amongst some of the finest snorkelling that we have done – and we include Madagascar, Mauritius and Zanzibar in this comparison. Of all of them, this is  the only place where the coral hadn’t suffered from human lack of thought. I just hope that, as Mocambique starts finding itself and places further north start opening up again, that this type of environment remains unspoiled.

We had only taken this one short excursion and it was worth going to Inhassoro just for this. There were other trips to be had which, apparently, are just as good. If you’re in that neck of the woods, make this a destination. Billfish Lodge itself is part of that attraction. We were well looked after, and our evening meal of seafood (very reasonable prices) and a full breakfast the next morning just rounded our stay out nicely.

This was, unfortunately, the turnaround point of trip. We were to head south again.

And this is us, looking a lot more tanned and relaxed.