The Mozambican Ferry Shuffle

As promised (or threatened?) by Norman, our day trip to Mozambique began promptly at 7am. All 6 of us piled into their Ssang Yong Rexton, a Korean SUV with a Mercedes-built engine. This car has a 100 liter diesel gas tank, so we were able to drive all the way to Maputo and back on one tank. We were joined by Norman and Faith's youngest daughter, Naomi, who is twelve years old. Her older sister Johanna stayed behind as she had to work at the pharmacy.

We drove through Ezulwini and then through Manzini, the industrial capital (such as it is) of Swaziland and then headed out further east towards the border. We passed an enormous sugar cane plantation with cane in various stages of readiness for harvest. When the cane is cut, it is first burned to get rid of the extra vegetation that is not needed for the processing portion. When the cane fires are lit, apparently all manner of creepy crawlies come dashing out of the plants, including many snakes such as the deadly black mamba! We could smell the sugar cane plant long before we could see it--the stench reminded me of the International Paper mill in Ft. Henry, NY. It stunk!

We reached the Swazi border with Mozambique after about an hour of driving and duly had our passports stamped for exit with no problem. However, we ran into a spot of trouble at the gate that officially let us out of Swaziland and into the Mozambique side of the border station. The Swazi guard didn't want to let us out because Norman only had the title of the Ssang Yong car, and not the registration. Norman argued in Swazi very agilely with the guard but he seemed adamant. I was quite stressed, as I definitely wanted to get to Mozambique, and it was so close! Finally the guard let us through, claiming that my father with his gray hair was too old to be kept waiting. Faith later explained that Swazis revere the elderly. I'm quite sure my dad was none too pleased to be counted among the elderly, but at least we got across the border!

The Mozambique side was considerably less organized than the Swazi side. Illegal money changers swarmed our car trying to get us to exchange for the Mozambique currency, the metical, but their rates were too low for our taste (4.2 to 1 SA rand). There were also hawkers advertising Mozambican car insurance. Norman bought some from a guy he knew as he explained that South African insurance companies often took a long time to process your claim, and you might have to spend the night in Mozambican jail, whereas if you got a local insurance company to handle it, your claim would be processed much quicker. I guess it is very much like driving your car into Mexico!

We all had to fill out embarkation forms, even Faith and Naomi who were traveling on Swazi passports, and our US passports were taken away so they could check to see if we were on Interpol and to issue the visas. They were very cheap at this crossing, only 130 Rand. Had we gone to the embassy in Pretoria we would have paid over $100, as they base the cost of the visa on what it would cost for a Mozambican to go to the US. What a deal! After waiting about 10 minutes, the guard came back with our passports newly stickered and stamped. We piled back into the car and headed out into Mozambique!

We took the road down towards Maputo and the coast that used to be called the "Hell Run" during the days of the civil war. Armed brigands would hide by the road and attack cars with RPG weapons. Norman said that sometimes he would hear that friends had gone to Mozambique for the day and just wouldn't come back as they had been killed. Cars would travel through this corridor in a caravan with armed escorts. It was mostly deserted and peaceful so it was hard to imagine such things happening. Norman also mentioned that once he was driving on this road and his bodyguard at the time pulled over to pee and stepped on a land mine. The explosion resulted in a leg amputation. Much of Mozambique is still peppered with mines and travelers must take caution when venturing off roads.

The drive to Maputo was very interesting. The land flattened out and we headed down towards the Indian Ocean. We saw a lot of flourishing business but also signs of the old Communist regime--statues of stars, hammers and sickles, ugly utilitarian buildings and even some bombed out buildings left over from the war. We also stopped for breakfast at a hotel near the border where I had some truly delicious coffee and a sort of cheese egg sandwich on a fluffy bread.

When we got to Maputo the early start caught up with me; I napped while we got stuck in a traffic jam. I missed our trip through the southern part of Maputo and awoke when we reached the ferry dock for Catembe Island. The ferry dock was an utter madhouse, as you can imagine. Our car was swarmed with vendors offering shoes, jewelry, clothing, watches, wallets, belts, CDs and DVDs. I smartly negotiated for a nifty pair of flip flop sandals with the Mozambican flag on the footbed as I had only brought my sneakers. Faith bought three counterfeit Bafana Bafana jerseys for her family and Norman insisted on a Timex watch that we were pretty sure had been stolen.

We waited in the ferry queue for about 30 minutes for the ferry to arrive, it seemed to take much longer loading on the other side than it did crossing the channel from the island. This would prove to be prophetic. I have traveled on car ferries before, but they are the kind where you drive into the cargo area and then the upper decks are passenger areas, such as the Jadrolina ferries that depart from Split to other Croatian Islands. Well, in Mozambique you get probably a 4th or 5th hand ferry that has been through the wars, literally, where 14 vehicles are crammed like the world's most busy parking lot along with as many passengers that could squeeze on while the ferry operators are performing their remarkable conducting dance to get all the cars fit onto the deck. We were amazed that so many cars could fit in so small a space! At last, a huge cement truck lumbered into the center space and we were off. The ferry tilted somewhat precipitously when the truck drove on, but I tried not to think about what would happen if we were to sink. Luckily, the channel between Maputo and Catembe is relatively narrow, and I promised my mom that I would help her swim to shore if it was necessary.

We climbed up to the deck next to the bridge for a nice breeze and a good view of the madness below. In order to access the top deck, we had to climb up into the passenger area and go through a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only." The "authorized personnel" in the bridge didn't bat an eyelash when I climbed up in there, so I just went out the side door and enjoyed the fresh air. We got a great view of some traditional fishing dhows, with their bright paint and colorful sails, as well as the smaller water taxis that ferry pedestrians who don't care to wait for the car ferry to fiddle about with loading and maneuvering.

When we got to Catembe the unloading process was slightly less chaotic, although the passengers just streamed off the ferry with little regard for the cars so we moved at a snail's pace. The island seemed very untouched by the modern world, with small bungalows, sandy roads and tons of fruit trees everywhere. We drove around enjoying the view and tried to get to the opposite side of the island, but missed the turn off, so we ended up at Hotel Marina on the beach to get a late lunch. The hotel had a gorgeous view of the Maputo skyline (which is nice as it is on a peninsula) so we sat on the veranda enjoying a drink and the sunshine.

I climbed down to the beach, which had a fine sand and clean water. There were plenty of neat shells to poke through and even some ghost crabs scuttling about. Except for an old fisherman mending an enormous net and a young boy herding goats, I was the only one on the beach. A dhow looked to be making land just in front of me, and I wanted to see what they had caught, but then the wind changed so they had to make for another area of the beach to land. I went back up to the veranda of the restaurant just as much large order of buttery, lemony, spicy prawns arrived. Bliss! The restaurant also had some funny stray cats who hung around obviously expecting the scraps from our seafood feast. Eventually they were rewarded with some snapper from Naomi and some fish skin from me.

We got back in the car to try to make the 6pm ferry back to Maputo and we did make it, although there was quite a bit of excitement with the loading as there were several light trucks gumming up the works as well as a bakkie overloaded with furniture and a trailer. Eventually we made it across and were back in downtown Maputo just as the sun set. Norman gave us a great tour of the city, showing us Embassy Row, the fancier houses, the fish market, the coastal road, the Costa del Sol hotel and even a stop at a patisserie where we got some snacks for the long drive home.

We made the border with Swaziland around 10pm and had to rouse Naomi from the nest she had made in the far back seat of the Rexton. We all trooped into the border station where we had to fill out the exact same embarkation card we had in the morning. On the way out I found someone's Mozambican passport on the ground. Alas, I did not resemble the person at all (named Ignacio something or other) so I gave it to the man in the border station. He seemed peeved that I had potentially created extra work for him.

The Swazi side was of course much friendlier and they joked that we were guest of the king. I must give them credit, they noted that my father had driven in with a car registered in South Africa and why did we not have it with us now? Norman explained that he had driven us and that the car was still in the house in Ezulwini. We paid our 50 rand road tax and headed back into the night.

The road was foggy as it was so late and we had gone back up into the mountains. It was noticeably cooler as well. We passed the checkpoint for hoof and mouth disease where a soldier is supposed to check your car for illegal bush meat, but due to a recent incident where a disgruntled citizen put laxatives in the meat, which was then grilled and eaten by the inspectors who then had quite a bad night of it, the inspection has become much more cursory.

We made it back to the house quite late, around 11:30, and all tumbled into bed exhausted after a long day. I made sure to grab a quick bite in the main house, however, as Johanna had made a delicious creamy broccoli bake and some fabulous, spicy fried chicken. I'm normally not a big night eater, but the chicken smelled so good and I wanted to make sure I got some of it before it disappeared!