For a change of scene, I head off on another “interesting” Chapa ride. Check out the experience of my first Chapa ride. It took me north from Inhambane at six in the morning and deposited me into Vilanculos seven hours later. We had a million stop-starts, a few of them for police, the majority for the acquisition and forfeit of passengers. We even stopped once so a lady could buy a large wooden vessel the purpose of which I have no idea. We sat and waited while she hummed and harred and having settled on what was to her the best one, it somehow got loaded under the back seat of the van. Brilliant! There’s not enough can be said about shopping en route, I was very envious.
As seems to be a usual experience for me that at the end of the Chapa ride there is a mass exodus. Chapa driver and the last of the passengers evaporate into thin air and I am left standing there feeling like I’ve come down in the last shower. This time, unfortunately, I could not arrange a pick up to my accommodation and there did not seem to be a tuk-tuk in sight. When a local approached me I asked if he was a tuk-tuk driver to which he replied yes and asked where do you want to go. On giving him the name, Zombie Cucumber he told me he didn’t know where that was and something about his eyes began to make me question if he actually was a tuk-tuk driver. I rang the owner of the guest house and told her there were no tuk-tuks to which she responded that she would call one to come get me. In the meantime, the guy is now grabbing me and trying to get me to move away with him. I yelled at him not to dare touch me, to which he replied, I’m sorry, I’m drunk. Well, alrighty then, so he’s drunk and definitely not a tuk-tuk driver, glad we established that.
The beach out front of my accommodation is fairly rocky but it’s still a beach and I use it to lead me on a tour of the town. I buy crunchy sweet apples from a roadside stall and find a supermarket with cheese and salami – a new type of heaven! It’s got a very different vibe here than Barra and Tofo. For one thing, there are more locals homes mixed in amongst the tourist accommodation which with my very-new-to-Africa goggles on seems like it’s a good thing although there’s no sound reason to substantiate this. The school kids seem to be a bit friendly but generally, the only time someone strikes up a conversation is to begin a sales pitch. My enthusiasm as I get approached, believing/hoping the person is just being friendly quickly deflates as they request that I buy a sarong or go on a dhow ride to the islands.
I find a street covered in dogs, all snuggling down into the sand and not too far down the road I realize one has decided to follow me. After a wee chat to let him know, I know he’s there he starts nudging against my legs, almost tripping me up a few times. Obviously, the salami smell is seeping from my day pack or maybe its cheese he favors. Either way, as I reach my accommodation he hovers at the gate and then turns and leaves.
The experience of the Chapa ride has me dropping off to sleep early that first night, alone in my 14-bed dormitory. It’s only the swarm of mosquitos surrounding the mozzie net that engulfs my bed, that serves as my company.
If you would like more information on what Vilanculos has on offer, check out my other post about a dhow trip to Magaruque Island in the Bazaruto Archipelago.
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