The Essence of the Journey!

Pemba – Mozambique

By: Celeste

 

It was a looong 3-day haul to traverse the width of Northern Mozambique from the Malawian border to the East coast on the Indian Ocean: sleeping in places best forgotten; welding (again!) the trailer and repairs to the leaf springs from 06h00 to 16h00; wonderful scenery amidst huge rocky outcrops and lush riverbanks. “I am glad Daddy can practice his Portuguese again,” says Nicolai enthusiastically. He is quite right. It smooths the way, every step of the way.

The town of Pemba is typically African: sprawling across hills with beautiful sea views down to the poorest shacks and unkempt roads. It is bustling with activity and trade in shoes, t-shirts, you-name-it. The barber trade is strong. Some buildings have been restored around the harbour area, sharply contrasting with those that remain in ruins. A soccer pitch is busy with players next to the

Catholic Church. There is a large high school and a Christian University. We enjoyed an espresso with natas, purchased some fresh bread from the pastelaria and a very small basket of goods from an Indian grocery store with exorbitant prices. At Pemba Dive and Bush Camp we were welcomed at the large lounge and bar area with a murky, oxide-coloured and textured fruit juice, rich in anti-oxidants and Vitamin C. “Any guesses?” asks Lyn. “Baobab,” I reply without hesitation. She is surprised but we had just had a baobab and chilli jam in Malawi. We settled in, enjoying the setting – white beach amongst the mangroves. There is a large difference between high and low tides with each having its own mood. Fiddler crabs emit sharp clicks and waggle their over-sized pincer around threateningly. Danica and I explore the beach and mud flats for hours, admiring the muscle shells growing on the mangrove trunks, the dogfish, a washed-up, White-spotted Puffer fish and especially the tiny, white anenomes she discovered on the underside of a log. Nightly crab, bat and Galago (bushbaby) hunting is a given. “Fiddler crabs, look, Mom, Dad!” was the 6am Nicolai’s wake-up call.

The kids are free to roam and revel in this freedom. Days take on their own form: schoolwork, diaries, planning for the next few days and longer and the daily chores: washing clothes, cooking, washing up, cleaning, preparing bottles for the day with water and juice and water sterilisation drops – either silver chloride drops or purifying tablets. Our kids never had baby bottles but I now have a feel for it. We partake of all the activities on offer, all inclusive at the camp: kayaking in a triple with the children and going on a long nature walk with Kai, learning about white, black and red mangroves and the different ‘levels’ of mangroves as one moves inland from the sea, as well as a myriad of local folklore and culminating inside a venerable 3000 year-old baobab, once a refugee hide-out, and still standing as a symbol of strength and vitality.

He is a BFG (Big Friendly Giant) who loves to share his knowledge of the area and play with the kids, sharing some new Dexter tricks with Nicolai on his PSP and also teaching us the original (?) nine-spotted domino game. He is shadowed 24/7 by his large Great Dane, Duke. Kind of like how Disney portrays dogs and their owners being similar in ‘101 Dalmations.’ On our last evening we share a lobster dinner at the beach area with fellow travellers: Frans and Beatrice from Switzerland. He is in construction and she is an O.T. specialising in dysphagia (swallowing problems) – quite a co-incidence. That last morning he helped Marcelo repair the ‘running board’ and main section of the trailer which had separated from the nose-cone. Over coffee, Marcelo shares all our Zambian travel info with them. They decide to get to Tanzania and then return southwards again, not to have to worry about the more unstable countries up north. Another Romanian couple on a motorbike were really travelling light, just their tent and buying food day-by-day. They had already travelled for 11 months coming down From Europe along the West and South coast of Africa with not even one safety incident – hardly surprising considering her effusive, shining, positive nature.

But our highlight of Pemba is undoubtedly the magnificently muddy mud bath – hair and head to toes – squishy and gooey, filled with essential mangrove goodness to re-vitalise our hair and skins. Of course, the flinging fun of it all was absolutely carefree and youthful! Much ‘betterer’ than being stuck in the mud any time.