We set off at 7pm from the factory, only to return five minutes later to get a forgotten tire gauge. Eventually, after settling all of our previously forgotten errands we headed out, for real.
The drive that night was dark and shrouded in fog. We made it out of Johannesburg eastward towards Swaziland. The border closed at 10pm and due to our late start we had to make due pulling off the road before we made it there, so we could find an adequate camp site. We ended up stumbling upon the perfect place. It was close to the road, yet still secluded enough. We had a forest on one side and an open view of the hills and mountains on the other. This made the next morning absolutely lovely. We woke up, had a breakfast of oatmeal and rooibos tea, packed up the van and headed to the border.
Crossing was easy. When we arrived in Swazi, our initial reaction was an apocalypse had hit. The highway was deserted at 11am and covered in a fine layer of red dust. But as we drove through the country I became enamored with the relaxed atmosphere of the mountain kingdom and it's gorgeous scenery. I did not begrudge them their lack of people.
For lunch we stopped under the shade of a tree by a massive cornfield and chowed down before Bhaj took a two hour nap. I wandered a bit, read, and generally lounged in the road trip vibes.
By the time we made it to the other side of the country, I regretfully accepted leaving Swazi for Mozambique, which promised beaches and tropical weather. However, the border crossing became a journey of its own.
At first it seemed easy. Stamp your passport, on your way. But when the guard at the gate asked for the car registration and Bhaj shook his head saying we didn't have it, the problems began. Apparently in SA no one carries their car registration with them in the car because you don't ever need it, I know, I was as shocked as you!
Sitting in the police captains office, I began to wonder whether we would even be able to continue our trip. The captain rambled on about rebels in Mozambique (which ended up being accurate, but that's a different story) and corrupt police (also accurate) who would take thousands from us for not having the right papers. Oh yeah, and also the fact that no, we would not in fact be allowed to leave Swazi without the registration.
Luckily, thinking on my toes, I suggested that we have one of Bhaj's employees at the factory scan and email the document to print. It wouldn't be the original but the police reluctantly agreed. He made sure to throw in a "you're free to do that but I am warning you, those guys over there will not like it" (barely anyone has said anything. I say barely because we did have to bribe one guy who noticed.)
Oh, but the never ending border saga does not conclude there. After two hours waiting to get online, so we could sort out our papers, we made it across to the Mozambican side of patrol. Here I had to get myself a visitors visa, which was a breeze, but what was not so easy was the "insurance". Bhaj had insurance coverage from SA, however, the stupid guy who got it for him wrote on the document that it only covered Botswana (not true and also the only place they didn't ask for any). We argued with the skechty "insurance" guy who was sitting outside of the patrol station waiting for his next victims, that we did, in fact, have coverage. "This will not work here in Mozambique," he said "the police will take all your money." (Hmmm... That sounds familiar.) We ended up buying the 150rand ($15) policy, just in case.
By this time we were done, it was already past 8pm, which is when the border officially closed. The gate had been shut and everyone was leaving. "You will have to sleep here tonight" said the guard at the door (luckily he was joking and eventually let us through).
Into Mozambique we went, ready to pass out from the unexpected problems we ran into. However, we chugged on until we got to Maputo. A city I have now only seen in the dark. Not regrettably so, although I'm sure it is lovely. We ended up 'camping' in the parking lot of a navel (yacht) club right by the ocean.
Waking up the next morning covered in sweat and surrounded by sounds of cars whizzing by, added to the atmosphere of city dwelling that we had spontaneously found ourselves in. Such vagabond we became. Camping in the back of a van, in a random parking lot, albeit by the ocean (Oh, how the mighty have fallen.)
With no oatmeal breakfast that morning, we headed off. Our destination? Turtle Cove, in Inhambane (really though, it's in Praia de Tofu. Yep, Tofu Beach).
We got a bit lost on our way out of Maputo and ended up in this little village right off the ocean. It had these gorgeous red dirt roads and some very friendly people who pushed our van to get the tire unstuck (one of the three times this happened that day). As we were trying to find our way to the main road we stopped to ask these two ladies waiting for a minibus. "Is this the way to the highway?" She mumbled something in Portuguese and than began to open the van door to get in the back. I was quite shocked until I realized they wanted a ride to the next town. I guess at that point what else was there left to do on our adventure except pick up some hitchhikers (turns out there was a lot more).
The eventful bit of that day (beside the hitchhikers, successfully making sandwiches for lunch while Bhaj continued on driving and the epic car battery charging contraption we made) was the lady I saw standing on the side of the road, signaling us with a bow and arrow in her left hand and a white rabbit in the right (as if I can understand ancient alien greetings, jeez). It was also quite entertaining when Bhaj got the van stuck trying to harvest coconuts, which are now rattling around in the back, amongst our food, water, and bedding.
Speaking of getting the van stuck. We had about three instances on that long drive to Tofu, where the sand was just too much. Whether it was some backroad that we never should have been on, coconut harvesting, or really just trying to get to our lodging, that thing got itself stuck. Every time that happened, superBhaj came to the rescue with his tire gauge, knife, and shovel.
After we finally made it to our little slice of paradise, we took much needed showers and slept in proper beds. We awoke to a tropical oasis and headed down to the beach. I am convinced that this area would be the best place in the world to honeymoon. It's quite, secluded, and beautiful. A spectacular beach setting without the obnoxious tourists and tourism industries. But I would fly directly in and not deal with driving from SA.
After our beach recoup we hit the road again. We were going to go on an ocean safari and see whale sharks but the other people who were to come with us bailed. We waited around all morning just to find out it was a no go. That just meant we could hit the road earlier.
So, off we set on the next part of our journey...
To be continued...
The drive that night was dark and shrouded in fog. We made it out of Johannesburg eastward towards Swaziland. The border closed at 10pm and due to our late start we had to make due pulling off the road before we made it there, so we could find an adequate camp site. We ended up stumbling upon the perfect place. It was close to the road, yet still secluded enough. We had a forest on one side and an open view of the hills and mountains on the other. This made the next morning absolutely lovely. We woke up, had a breakfast of oatmeal and rooibos tea, packed up the van and headed to the border.
Crossing was easy. When we arrived in Swazi, our initial reaction was an apocalypse had hit. The highway was deserted at 11am and covered in a fine layer of red dust. But as we drove through the country I became enamored with the relaxed atmosphere of the mountain kingdom and it's gorgeous scenery. I did not begrudge them their lack of people.
For lunch we stopped under the shade of a tree by a massive cornfield and chowed down before Bhaj took a two hour nap. I wandered a bit, read, and generally lounged in the road trip vibes.
By the time we made it to the other side of the country, I regretfully accepted leaving Swazi for Mozambique, which promised beaches and tropical weather. However, the border crossing became a journey of its own.
At first it seemed easy. Stamp your passport, on your way. But when the guard at the gate asked for the car registration and Bhaj shook his head saying we didn't have it, the problems began. Apparently in SA no one carries their car registration with them in the car because you don't ever need it, I know, I was as shocked as you!
Sitting in the police captains office, I began to wonder whether we would even be able to continue our trip. The captain rambled on about rebels in Mozambique (which ended up being accurate, but that's a different story) and corrupt police (also accurate) who would take thousands from us for not having the right papers. Oh yeah, and also the fact that no, we would not in fact be allowed to leave Swazi without the registration.
Luckily, thinking on my toes, I suggested that we have one of Bhaj's employees at the factory scan and email the document to print. It wouldn't be the original but the police reluctantly agreed. He made sure to throw in a "you're free to do that but I am warning you, those guys over there will not like it" (barely anyone has said anything. I say barely because we did have to bribe one guy who noticed.)
Oh, but the never ending border saga does not conclude there. After two hours waiting to get online, so we could sort out our papers, we made it across to the Mozambican side of patrol. Here I had to get myself a visitors visa, which was a breeze, but what was not so easy was the "insurance". Bhaj had insurance coverage from SA, however, the stupid guy who got it for him wrote on the document that it only covered Botswana (not true and also the only place they didn't ask for any). We argued with the skechty "insurance" guy who was sitting outside of the patrol station waiting for his next victims, that we did, in fact, have coverage. "This will not work here in Mozambique," he said "the police will take all your money." (Hmmm... That sounds familiar.) We ended up buying the 150rand ($15) policy, just in case.
By this time we were done, it was already past 8pm, which is when the border officially closed. The gate had been shut and everyone was leaving. "You will have to sleep here tonight" said the guard at the door (luckily he was joking and eventually let us through).
Into Mozambique we went, ready to pass out from the unexpected problems we ran into. However, we chugged on until we got to Maputo. A city I have now only seen in the dark. Not regrettably so, although I'm sure it is lovely. We ended up 'camping' in the parking lot of a navel (yacht) club right by the ocean.
Waking up the next morning covered in sweat and surrounded by sounds of cars whizzing by, added to the atmosphere of city dwelling that we had spontaneously found ourselves in. Such vagabond we became. Camping in the back of a van, in a random parking lot, albeit by the ocean (Oh, how the mighty have fallen.)
With no oatmeal breakfast that morning, we headed off. Our destination? Turtle Cove, in Inhambane (really though, it's in Praia de Tofu. Yep, Tofu Beach).
We got a bit lost on our way out of Maputo and ended up in this little village right off the ocean. It had these gorgeous red dirt roads and some very friendly people who pushed our van to get the tire unstuck (one of the three times this happened that day). As we were trying to find our way to the main road we stopped to ask these two ladies waiting for a minibus. "Is this the way to the highway?" She mumbled something in Portuguese and than began to open the van door to get in the back. I was quite shocked until I realized they wanted a ride to the next town. I guess at that point what else was there left to do on our adventure except pick up some hitchhikers (turns out there was a lot more).
The eventful bit of that day (beside the hitchhikers, successfully making sandwiches for lunch while Bhaj continued on driving and the epic car battery charging contraption we made) was the lady I saw standing on the side of the road, signaling us with a bow and arrow in her left hand and a white rabbit in the right (as if I can understand ancient alien greetings, jeez). It was also quite entertaining when Bhaj got the van stuck trying to harvest coconuts, which are now rattling around in the back, amongst our food, water, and bedding.
Speaking of getting the van stuck. We had about three instances on that long drive to Tofu, where the sand was just too much. Whether it was some backroad that we never should have been on, coconut harvesting, or really just trying to get to our lodging, that thing got itself stuck. Every time that happened, superBhaj came to the rescue with his tire gauge, knife, and shovel.
After we finally made it to our little slice of paradise, we took much needed showers and slept in proper beds. We awoke to a tropical oasis and headed down to the beach. I am convinced that this area would be the best place in the world to honeymoon. It's quite, secluded, and beautiful. A spectacular beach setting without the obnoxious tourists and tourism industries. But I would fly directly in and not deal with driving from SA.
After our beach recoup we hit the road again. We were going to go on an ocean safari and see whale sharks but the other people who were to come with us bailed. We waited around all morning just to find out it was a no go. That just meant we could hit the road earlier.
So, off we set on the next part of our journey...
To be continued...
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