Africa tour to the equator and back in 40 days
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Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
schalk vd merwe
Race Dog
Day 33 6/01/2011 Msimbah Village---Mocimboa do Praia in Mozambique
The next morning we were up before 6 am and Juan made us some breakfast. We packed up and I took the equivalent of R 380 in Tanzanian shillings and one debit card and put it in a separate wallet as that was what I was prepared to pay for the fishing boat crossing. The idea was to show them my wallet so they can't demand more money and I then put the wallet in my tank bag. As we wanted to leave Juan's bike would not start as the battery was flat. On top of that there were about 3 km of sand that we had to ride through first. Pushing the bike also would not work as it is a thumper. One of the local people with a car offered to tow Juan's bike which in the end was successful. When we arrived at the border control the official were very friendly and invited us into his office. He said he has a friend who will take us across the river. I then told him that I am prepared to pay the equivalent of R 380 for the crossing. He then phoned his friend and it was agreed that he would do it for that amount. When you sit in his office the bikes are out sight. He chatted to us some more and after a while went out of the office and stayed away for quite a while. When he returned he duly stamped our passports and off we went. We travelled the 3 km to the river and found our skipper. He said the boat was on the Mozambique side and we must wait for high tide. They also warned us that the crossing is normally 20 % successful, in other words 80 % fall in the water. As I am a risk taker I said it is OK we will take the change as the boats looked OK to me. I then wanted to buy us some cold drinks as it was very hot by now and I opened my tank bag to find that my 2nd wallet with the R380 in Tanzanian shillings was gone. I just knew that the border official must have taken it when he went out of the office. After Juan's camera which was stolen at Karema on Lake Tanganyika this was the 2nd item taken in a very shrewd way. The boat only arrived at 3.30 pm and we started to load the two bikes and our luggage. I made it clear to them that I am not going to pay extra for unloading the bikes on the other side and that they must take enough people along for the task. I also told them that I only pay on the other side once the bikes have been off loaded. Fortunately I still had some American dollars which was in my other wallet at the bottom of my tank bag. It was quite an experience to cross the 2 km wide river mouth with the boat. On the Mozambique side there was a 2 metre high embankment that they had to lift the bikes over. I paid them in American dollars and they gave me change in Mozambique currency. The border control was nearby and we had to use a couple of Portuguese words that we knew as most of the countries we travelled through up to now we used the Swahili words that we learned along the way. The border official warned us that the road was bad. It was nearly sun set and little did we know that we were going to have a mother of a night. The road turned into a two spoor road with very thick sand. It was 1st gear and 2nd gear stuff. By now it was dark and difficult. We had to stay in one spoor as the middelmannetjie was very high and it was very difficult to cross over. As we were riding slowly the radiator fans stayed on and made it worse as the hot air would blow over your body with the outside temperature also very high. Juan's bike started to stall the moment he left it to idle and he had a flat battery. The only way now was to tow him in the loose sand until he is up to speed and restart the bike that way, it took great effort. After we got the bike going Juan tried to go a bit faster but every time he would fall off. That meant another tow to restart. The area was very unpopulated. It would have been very nice to camp there in the veld but I was scared of landmines. I remembered when I was in the army in the early seventies at 1 Military hospital at Voortrekker Hoogte where I did my 1 year army training we had a secret ward (Government secret) for the Portuguese soldiers that got blown up by landmines. Some of them had no legs, some no arms some were blind and most of them came from this area in the northern part of Mozambique during their civil war. So there was no ways that I was going to pull off this road as there are still some active land mines buried around here from the war time. Juan and I eventually tried to ride in first gear and sit on the bike and walk it. This was extremely tiring and sometimes Juan's bike would stall again and it was out with the tow rope again. In order to start his bike again I would have to go to 2nd gear in the sand revving high and Juan had to go into 3rd gear before his bike would start. After many falls, stalls and pull restarts we arrived at the next village but as we were extremely tired by now we did not want to camp any more. There were no accommodation and I said to Juan we will have to push through to the next town. We tackled the road again and at least the road improved from here. We eventually arrived at a town called Mocimboa da Praia by the sea. All the roads in town were full big pot holes. It was 11 pm by now a long day as we were up before 6 am. Juan's bike stalled outside a garage which was closed and I told him to wait there in the dark while I went to look for accommodation. I found a hotel and went back to fetch Juan and pull start him again. I thought we would sort the electrical problem out in the morning. The manager told us to park the bikes in the open pub. We were dead tied by now and it was 11.30 pm. The barman had some real cold ones for us and on the juke box the song “Today is gona be a good good day was playing. I ask the manager to please make us something to eat as we had a tuff day and did not eat all day. “What would you like sir?” he said with a Portuguese accent. A nice steak I said. At about 12 am he arrived with the best steak a hungry man can wish for and indeed it was a good good day in Africa and once again the hospitality of Africa humbled me.
The next morning we were up before 6 am and Juan made us some breakfast. We packed up and I took the equivalent of R 380 in Tanzanian shillings and one debit card and put it in a separate wallet as that was what I was prepared to pay for the fishing boat crossing. The idea was to show them my wallet so they can't demand more money and I then put the wallet in my tank bag. As we wanted to leave Juan's bike would not start as the battery was flat. On top of that there were about 3 km of sand that we had to ride through first. Pushing the bike also would not work as it is a thumper. One of the local people with a car offered to tow Juan's bike which in the end was successful. When we arrived at the border control the official were very friendly and invited us into his office. He said he has a friend who will take us across the river. I then told him that I am prepared to pay the equivalent of R 380 for the crossing. He then phoned his friend and it was agreed that he would do it for that amount. When you sit in his office the bikes are out sight. He chatted to us some more and after a while went out of the office and stayed away for quite a while. When he returned he duly stamped our passports and off we went. We travelled the 3 km to the river and found our skipper. He said the boat was on the Mozambique side and we must wait for high tide. They also warned us that the crossing is normally 20 % successful, in other words 80 % fall in the water. As I am a risk taker I said it is OK we will take the change as the boats looked OK to me. I then wanted to buy us some cold drinks as it was very hot by now and I opened my tank bag to find that my 2nd wallet with the R380 in Tanzanian shillings was gone. I just knew that the border official must have taken it when he went out of the office. After Juan's camera which was stolen at Karema on Lake Tanganyika this was the 2nd item taken in a very shrewd way. The boat only arrived at 3.30 pm and we started to load the two bikes and our luggage. I made it clear to them that I am not going to pay extra for unloading the bikes on the other side and that they must take enough people along for the task. I also told them that I only pay on the other side once the bikes have been off loaded. Fortunately I still had some American dollars which was in my other wallet at the bottom of my tank bag. It was quite an experience to cross the 2 km wide river mouth with the boat. On the Mozambique side there was a 2 metre high embankment that they had to lift the bikes over. I paid them in American dollars and they gave me change in Mozambique currency. The border control was nearby and we had to use a couple of Portuguese words that we knew as most of the countries we travelled through up to now we used the Swahili words that we learned along the way. The border official warned us that the road was bad. It was nearly sun set and little did we know that we were going to have a mother of a night. The road turned into a two spoor road with very thick sand. It was 1st gear and 2nd gear stuff. By now it was dark and difficult. We had to stay in one spoor as the middelmannetjie was very high and it was very difficult to cross over. As we were riding slowly the radiator fans stayed on and made it worse as the hot air would blow over your body with the outside temperature also very high. Juan's bike started to stall the moment he left it to idle and he had a flat battery. The only way now was to tow him in the loose sand until he is up to speed and restart the bike that way, it took great effort. After we got the bike going Juan tried to go a bit faster but every time he would fall off. That meant another tow to restart. The area was very unpopulated. It would have been very nice to camp there in the veld but I was scared of landmines. I remembered when I was in the army in the early seventies at 1 Military hospital at Voortrekker Hoogte where I did my 1 year army training we had a secret ward (Government secret) for the Portuguese soldiers that got blown up by landmines. Some of them had no legs, some no arms some were blind and most of them came from this area in the northern part of Mozambique during their civil war. So there was no ways that I was going to pull off this road as there are still some active land mines buried around here from the war time. Juan and I eventually tried to ride in first gear and sit on the bike and walk it. This was extremely tiring and sometimes Juan's bike would stall again and it was out with the tow rope again. In order to start his bike again I would have to go to 2nd gear in the sand revving high and Juan had to go into 3rd gear before his bike would start. After many falls, stalls and pull restarts we arrived at the next village but as we were extremely tired by now we did not want to camp any more. There were no accommodation and I said to Juan we will have to push through to the next town. We tackled the road again and at least the road improved from here. We eventually arrived at a town called Mocimboa da Praia by the sea. All the roads in town were full big pot holes. It was 11 pm by now a long day as we were up before 6 am. Juan's bike stalled outside a garage which was closed and I told him to wait there in the dark while I went to look for accommodation. I found a hotel and went back to fetch Juan and pull start him again. I thought we would sort the electrical problem out in the morning. The manager told us to park the bikes in the open pub. We were dead tied by now and it was 11.30 pm. The barman had some real cold ones for us and on the juke box the song “Today is gona be a good good day was playing. I ask the manager to please make us something to eat as we had a tuff day and did not eat all day. “What would you like sir?” he said with a Portuguese accent. A nice steak I said. At about 12 am he arrived with the best steak a hungry man can wish for and indeed it was a good good day in Africa and once again the hospitality of Africa humbled me.
