Part 1 – Macaneta
Sitting at the border,
Immigration won’t let me through.
They say my visa’s forged.
What am I meant to do?
Urgent calls to UN Security,
Finally we make it, we’re here.
I need to wash down the corruption
With a Laurentina beer.
Among Maputo’s glittering lights,
There’s one thing on my mind:
Fresh seafood, coffee, pastries and pau,
No crumbs get left behind.
Then it’s time to the hit the club
At the railway CFM.
Packed full of awesome 90’s tunes,
In bed at 4am.
When I wake it’s off to Macaneta
With 16 ex-pat friends,
To the Tan n’ Biki, a house by the beach,
Each hoping it never ends.
The clothes come off; we’re in the waves,
There’s sand between our toes.
We play Frisbee with a relentless dog.
We read. We walk. We doze.
The sellers wander along the shore,
Offering puppies from a sack.
Time for one more seafood meal,
Before we must head back.
Rather than cure my craving,
It grows, I can’t resist.
Weekends in Mozambique,
It doesn’t get better than this.
Part 2 – Ponta Malongane
With Macaneta still on my mind,
And a long weekend ahead,
The perfect excuse for another trip,
We load up the cars and head.
Despite hours at the embassy
To sort my visa out,
It makes no difference at the border,
I’m feeling ready to shout.
In Moz, a meal of seafood,
Helps to calm the nerves.
A 2M, or 3, also helps.
Tomorrow, the Elephant Reserve.
First the ferry to Catembe,
Then 60 clicks sand track.
The road to the Reserve’s too gnarly,
The rangers turn us back.
Instead we head further South,
To Ponta Malongane.
Bogged a few times along the way
This sand driving’s so much fun
We set up camp and head out for drinks
A wedding is on by the shore
Myles is dressed like the groomsmen
So he conga-lines to the dance floor
Next day, a full day at the beach!
I swim and read past noon.
I wander and peer into rock pools
I do ‘Salutation to the Moon’
Early next morning, it’s time to go
Going as fast as the car allows.
No bogs! My CR-V has done me proud.
It’s earned the name ‘Sand Plough’
At Salamanga, a Hindu temple
We eat kulfi and sweets inside
Then back to Catembe, Maputo and Swazi
Yet still the craving does remain
More beach and seafood I seek
Sadly there’s no such thing
As “Muito Mocambique”