17th of June, 2018.
Hitchhiking in Mozambique: truck and lorry
Two nice British men pick me up. Unfortunately, they are going just to Pemba, because I would love to spend the whole day travelling with them, until Beira if possible. I stay with them until around eleven o’clock, and before they leave, they give me one of their lunch box.
I get another small lift until the next intersection. It is such a short distance, that I even get in the back of this small pick-up.
From there, I just decide to walk until a better place with a good shade, where I could sit appropriately and eat my mysterious and probably delicious lunch box.
After I pass by a guard and he asks me a few questions, I am wondering if would not be better if I ask him for a little help, like putting me in a express bus. But I just keep walking.
Suddenly a truck stops. When the guy comes to the window I honestly thought he is alone, or maximum with one passenger. It is when I realize that in Mozambique, they do a lot of illegal passenger transportation. There are some twelve people in the cabin and almost not space for me. The worst part is I could not even eat my lunch box in front of all those people. There are kids also.
The driver’s mobile phone disappear and he asks to check on everyone’s bags and stuff. But he does not want to check mine and I do not know why.
Just when a few of those people leave, including the kids, and it is already dark, I decide to open my magical box and eat. I am so surprise about how good it is: some nice egg toasts, a delicious ginger muffin and a yogurt. Yummy!
When we arrive to our destination, Nampula, the driver offers for me to stay with him for the night because next morning he will keep going on. But because I have no plans of keep travelling by trucks (otherwise it will take me forever to reach my goal), I say it would be better if I stay somewhere near town or something like that.
Walking and asking about where there is a nun’s house, I get help from a couple and another boy, very nice people, who walk with me until the place. I highly appreciate the gesture. IF you think about it, it is late at night, something like 11 p.m., and I am walking in the town, alone, just asking this people for help. Isn’t crazy?
The nuns let me stay and also give me some food: rice and vegetables and some juice. We talk for while and they are super nice. Sisters Delfina and Fatima put a mattress and some blankets in one bedroom where I can sleep. In the morning, after eating an orange and my lovely yogurt, a young lady and I walk until the road. She tells me she is preparing herself to become a nun. She carries my small backpack in her head to help me with the weight.
Again, I have to walk quite a lot until the end of the town. Once in there, I make two sandwiches while waiting for a lift which takes a long time to show up. After waiting for quite a while, I decide to walk a bit more.
Unfortunately, I cannot say no to some police officers who offer to help me. They put me in another truck. Damn it!
Of course, this truck is also full and I remain sitting on the floor, between the driver’s and passenger’s seats, for eight hours! The floor is so hot, that I have to sit on my flip-flops, otherwise it would burn my butts! The driver is extraordinary rude sometimes, but out of nowhere he gives me two oranges and a banana. And I taste some delicious beans, called game beans, which look like peanuts, but have this name because you just have to open the skin and through it out, like playing. Delicious! But basically that’s all I eat the whole day.
A curious thing happen when one police officer comes to the window and asks only for my passport. He starts to read. Or at least trying to. First he says: “Lady, this passport is out of date”. I say that it is impossible because it is valid until 2026. When I get from his hands to see what is going on, I realize he is actually looking at my Mauritania Visa. Laugh. I explain to him he is equivocated and open in the right page. Then he says that my Visa is written by hands so he could considered that a falsification. Laugh. I could not remember if it was written by hands or not but, even if it was, I couldn’t care less, I knew I was right. So I just take it from him again, and again he is looking at the wrong place: to my East African Visa. Laugh. He finally let me go, probably very ashamed.
We arrive quite late in Nakudala. I walk across the road, in the darkness, looking for a cross of a church where I could ask for shelter. I see a bar and get inside. What? You started looking for a church and ended up in a bar? Yeah! Laugh. But unfortunately, not for the obvious reasons, only because I see some girls over there and I decide to ask them some directions. First, they actually offer me to spend the night over there, with them. I thought that is an awesome idea but I am a little suspicious as well so I decide to stick with the plan. One of the girls walk with me until another place. Once in there, after talking with some people, talking with someone in the phone, they give me one of the teacher’s bedroom. And they actually explain to me why all the security stuff. Looks like they did the same thing in the past, trying to help some backpackers, and it didn’t end up well, so they are being precocious now.
I have a tuna sandwich and some biscuits before going to sleep. After a great night of sleep I wake up after seven to resume my journey.
Two guys from Bangladesh give me a ride until Caia. They buy me a Coke as well. The driver has already been to Brazil and show me some pictures. Nice people they are.
In Caia, taking a rest under the shade in a police control, again I do the wrong thing on trusting them (what a hell is wrong with me?), and they put me in a mini bus. This is about to be the worst travel until now.
10 Years Around the World 