Last Time Frosting, This Time the Cake.

North American Coterie of Steven Fox Readers,
I apologize for the shortness of my last blog and I'll try to have this one fill in some of the details, especially of the non-work stuff. After leaving Inhambane on the coast (See last post about swimming with Whale Sharks, we also swam with sailfish and marlins which was scarier because they move very quickly), I made the long trip up to Beira, the industrial capital of Mozambique and Zimbabwe's major access to shipping. There, I met up with a friend from Richmond, Zach Lager, who has been living 1000 kilometers from the city in a poor village and working on his own NGO helping the community with sustainable agriculture. It is a neat project and we spent a couple days in his neck of the woods biking around in eighth-hand bikes, under the blazing sun.

We then followed the coast north through Quelimane and Nampula (towns about the size of Boston) to Mozambique Island, a spectacular slice of paradise located 3 km off the coast. The city combines a historical significance, culturally diverse and unique vibe and stunning set of views that are new to me. We arrived late on our first night after getting into a series of arguments and getting dropped in the middle of nowhere by two local bus drivers and finally hitching a ride with a manager on the island and commercial diver. Along the way to the island we also picker up the victim of a vicious accident and helped load a poor bloodied motocycle driver who collided with a bicyclist into the back of the flatbed truck. The island can only be reached by a one lane bridge spanning 3 km, or by taking a local dugout canoe or swimming. It was the capital of Portuguese Africa and of Mozambique for many years and is home to a massive fort, historical churches and mansions, the oldest western hospital in Africa and a host of off coast shipwrecks.

The place is awesome, tiny 3km (in perimeter), holds 7000 locals, has limited tourists, good eats and snorkeling, diving, fishing etc. It is a paradise for all ages. Tell your kids and grandparents. I'll be back.

I've since gone back through the depressing city of Nampula (more like a central Africa with grimy halls for transient laborers, a steady group of chinese eating and chain smoking in their own restaurants), where we got up for the 3AM train to Cuamba. It took 12 hours but we got there, spent the night and even found popcorn. Now I have crossed the border into Malawi (quite sketchily, with a motorcycle, a truck over a dirt road and a couple of lame attempts at extortion) and I'll be able to update you next time from the shores of Lake Malawi/Niassa.

I think I'll play nine holes of golf tomorrow,
Steven