Category: Mozambique

This was the weekend I didn’t run. I didn’t lace up takkies at 05:30 to clock in some kilometres. I didn’t think about how each step makes me stronger. I didn’t dream of how wonderful it would be to cross a half-marathon finish line in under two hours. This is the weekend I slept in (08:30). And I marvelled at how glorious THIS is.

This is the weekend I didn’t watch the next few episodes of “House of Cards”. I didn’t yearn for Claire Underwood’s wardrobe. I didn’t wonder what it says about ME, that I cannot hate Frank Underwood’s character. This is the weekend I finally got around to watching “The Book Thief”. And I wept.

This is the weekend I didn’t pick up a novel. So unusual.

This is the weekend I didn’t devour an entire mango. This is the weekend I didn’t think about how I had fresh pineapple juice every day in India, and how I miss that, and how I really should invest in a juicer. This is the weekend I cooked for someone other than myself.

This is the weekend I didn’t feel compelled to spend Saturday night socialising. This is the weekend I was more than happy to vegetate on the couch and watch mind-numbing TV (Step up 3).

This is the weekend I finally got around to editing some of my photos taken in Mozambique, more than 6 months ago. This is the weekend I remembered how hard I fell for Tofo. My fellow travellers – so friendly and entertaining. The stars – incomparably beautiful. I need to go back.

Boats - Vilanculos

Tattoos - Mozambique

Tofo - first night

Mozambique - cricket

This is the weekend I didn’t run.

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I’ve recently added extreme tree camping to my bucket list.

Day 9

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My first panic attack happens on Day 9 of the great adventure of 2013. I’m in Maputo. I arrived the previous evening from Johannesburg, via the Intercape bus.

I’m in Maputo and my bankcard won’t work. I’m not sure why. It was working earlier that morning. Now? The error message on the ATM screen simply reads: “Your time limit has been exceeded.” What does that mean? Has my bank cancelled my card? Surely they’d call BEFORE cancelling my card?

I try not to panic. I fail miserably at NOT PANICKING. I tell everyone on Twitter that my bankcard isn’t working and OMG it won’t be long before I’m scavenging through dustbins in order to sustain myself in Mozambique. I curse myself for tipping the waitress so generously. WHY? I tell myself that I’ll be fine ONCE I meet up with Cazz and Cougar in Vilanculos. But until then I can’t spend anymore money. I have no idea how much a taxi will cost from the bus stop in Vilanculos to my backpackers. So I forgo supper, which isn’t an easy task considering that I only had fresh pineapple juice and lemon ice-cream for lunch. Stupid, frivolous me! And I tell myself, that if worst comes worst, I can ask my father to book an immediately flight out of Mozambique. God, let it not come to that.  

I will later learn that:

  • My bankcard only works at a Barclays ATM.
  • That a taxi from Pambara (the bus stop at Vilanculos) to my backpackers (a distance of 20km) will set me back MTn1000. (That’s  almost R400.)