WHILE travelling through Mozambique in 2002, it was with some apprehension that we left Inhassoro on our way to Beira, the capital of Sofala province.
As a child Bill had spent many happy seaside holidays in Mozambique’s second largest city but so much time had lapsed since his last visit there. He wasn’t sure what to expect after all Mozambique’s woes. Had the seaside magic of this once-beautiful city completely disappeared?
The first section of our route that day was really lovely, the road meandering through increasingly lush and healthy miombo woodland and crossing some big African rivers. The road was being upgraded and was in excellent condition until we caught up with the roadworks at Rio Gorongoze. After that we had to ignore the natural beauty a little to look out for potholes.
From when we’d entered Mozambique until we turned off the northern road into the Beira corridor, we’d felt like carefree tourists, visiting idyllic beach resorts and enjoying the beauty of the countryside. Now, suddenly, the road ahead was a stark reminder of Mozambique’s troubled history. The Beira Corridor, a strategic road and rail link between Beira and Mutare in Zimbabwe, still bore many war scars.
Much of the vegetation alongside the road had been cleared, leaving the countryside looking damaged and raw. Near Beira, we came across a railroad graveyard where tons of rusting railroad stock had come to rest.
Although peace and a little prosperity had returned to this region, the route still had a desolate, shell-shocked feel to it.
When we eventually reached Beira, this war-ravaged city greeted us with a gap-toothed smile but, we discovered, it was nonetheless a charming smile. While initially Beira seemed decidedly worse for wear, as we explored it further, the city really grew on us.
What it was that charmed us so was hard to define. In some ways it was a little more subdued than other African towns and cities that we knew and yet in Beira we sensed an energy, a zest for life, a vibrancy that bubbled beneath the surface. Mostly, I think, we were charmed by Beira’s beautiful, friendly people, with their Latin knack of living well and looking good, coupled with their African warmth and an optimism that saw them determinedly rebuilding their war-shattered lives.
Although some of the gracious old buildings were in very poor condition, mere shadows of what they once were, others were being repainted, renovated or restored, and it was easy to imagine the city during its glamorous former life.The city streets were potholed but the magnificent old trees shading the pavements had, happily, survived the war. A lively pavement cafe culture was reawakening in the city and one of the pleasures Beira offered was the chance to sip excellent coffee and nibble delicious pastries alfresco while watching the world go by.
During our stay in Beira we met up with a wonderful Scandinavian family. The husband and wife, who worked for an aid agency, had five children ranging from teenager to toddler. Having fallen in love with Mozambique, they were using their vacation to see more of it. They were heading into northern Mozambique, travelling a much tougher route than the one we planned to do, but we envied them. As I’m sure fellow tent travellers will agree, there is just never enough time to see everything when you travel. We promised ourselves that we would do that route some day – so far we haven’t managed to keep that promise.
Instead of turning north with them we said goodbye to our new friends and back-tracked along the Beira Corridor, to a resort at Lake Chicamba, where we would spend our last night in Mozambique. It was yet another place where we would have liked to have stayed a little longer.The resort was pretty and comfortable, close to the lake and set among green lawns and gentle hills. The surrounding miombo woodlands were flushed with their spring colours, turning every shade of orange and red to celebrate the season of renewal, and the camping area boasted an amazing variety of birdlife.
Driving into the Zambezi Valley the next day, to Tete, the frontier town lived up to its reputation of being the hottest place in Mozambique. The mercury climbed to a sizzling 42 degrees. A trade centre long before the Portuguese arrived in Mozambique, the town had had a long and interesting history. It also boasted a handsome bridge spanning the Zambezi River, but otherwise it had little to recommend it as a tourist attraction.
Still, we drove through town and crossed the river with a sense of elation. Apart from a short sortie into Zambia from Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, we’d never ventured across the Zambezi before. To us, it represented the frontier between the southern Africa we knew so well and new unexplored territories to our north. Soon we were at the border, looking forward to visiting Malawi but a little sad to be bidding magical Mozambique farewell.
Although northern Mozambique is still on our ‘to-do list’, we have returned to the magical country since our 2002 visit to explore the extreme southern section that we missed – but more about that next week..
