24 Hours in Mozambique

Last Thursday, at a brai (South African for “BBQ”), a co-worker fresh of a previous weekend trip to Mozambique for a Frisbee tournament, proposed a trip to the capital, Maputo, for Friday night. We would be back in Mbabane in time for a big party on Saturday night. I anticipated that this plan was lacking any real follow-through, but packed a few items on Friday morning before running out of my cottage to catch my ride. I really mean just a few items: a sundress and bikini, thrown in a ziplock bag with my toothbrush, as Maputo is much warmer thanks to its coastal locale. But in the office that morning, I asked, “So that was just a joke fueled by a couple of beers?” I was proven wrong. There would be 5 of us heading to Mozambique that evening at 5pm, undertaking the three and a half hour drive.

We departed Mbabane and headed east, crossing the boarder just after dark, after a 40-minute wait for a few single-entry visas. We arrived at our backpackers, Fatima’s, dropped our bags, and made way for dinner, ending up at a local restaurant, Miramar, for some delicious seafood—calamari, prawns, fish and some large draft beers. We went out to a couple clubs around town, ending the night at a tasteful place known as Coconuts. It was packed, and stayed open late, as in NYC late, a novelty coming from sleepy Mbabane.

The next morning we headed to a great breakfast spot, Café Sol, for some excellent Mozambique coffee (brought a bag home with me) and bagels! Then we made way for the beach, which stretches far, far out at low tide. It was a lovely sight, but not the best for swimming, although the waters did not seem the cleanest anyways. But the highlight of the trip still lay ahead. We hopped back in the car and headed over to the fish market in town. A couple of the group had been to the fish market on their last visit and recognized their restaurant hostess, so we joined with her, and she escorted us around the cramped, aromatic market, but we did the bargaining. Not sure how well we really did actually, but we got a good haul of fresh seafood for less than $15/person. There were heaps of fresh, whole fish—bright pink skin, glossy gray—piles of lobsters and crabs, and water-filled bins chock full of prawns and clams. We picked three fish, a couple pounds of clams, a couple dozen prawns, and a one and a half kilogram crab (over three pounds), and walked around the corner to the open-air courtyard surrounded by restaurants and many hawkers selling their wares. About 45 minutes later, out came the freshest steamed clams, followed not long after by garlic/butter prawns, grilled fish, and steamed crab. Along with some large Laurentina Preta (a great dark beer) sitting in the warm sun, I was one happy girl. Then it was time to cram back into the car for the trip away from the sea, back across the border, to peaceful Mbabane.