It was with mixed emotions that we doned our lycra cycling shorts and stepped onto our peddles for Rick's ride into Maputo. The beach at Tofo had been a stunning place to unwind and collect our reflections on the last three and a half months of hard riding, and while one half revelled in the joys of daily scenery changes and life on the open road, the other looked forward to the end-point which we had been touting for such a long time. I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation, I wanted to be there now, to cross the city limits and feel the rush of having finally made it. Equally the final three days were something to be savoured, to enjoy sitting out in outside our tents, making dinner in the diming evening light.
Our final three days were to be no mean feat, we had 500kms to cover in three and a half days. To have a chance of finding our way safely through what was to be one of the biggest citys' we had cycled through we wanted to arrive as early as possible into Maputo, and so planned to make early headway into our mileage. For the first two days we felt fortune was on our side, as the stiff Southerly winds we had struggled into down the coast had eased considerably. It was these same Southerlies that had brought Vasco De Gama North as he rounded the Cape of Good Hope in 1498, to colonise eventually Mozambique for the Portguese. The coast around Tofo had been one of the original places they had landed, where local people had brought forward avocados and tropical fruits to give the newly arrived foreigners, kind gestures which led De Gama to name the area the "Terra Des Boa Gente". The bounty of the area was plain to see as we passed glades of palm trees heavy with coconuts and tangerine stalls lined the road, selling 6 fruits for a total of 20 pence.
Added to our lucky wind break a mixture of strong wills, fresh legs and early starts meant that we had covered almost 240 km in a day and a half and were in a good position to make our push into Maputo. As we rode on we day-dreamed of our final ride into town, of a glorious sunny afternoon and a cold beer on the Indian Ocean. However, if there is one think we have learnt in three and half months it is never to expect anything. Our second night brought torrential rains and when Rick and I emerged from the tent to a drizzly, misty morning, which would not have been out of place in an English Autumn, most of our bedding was soaked through. As if to herald the end of our trip, the tent had finally given up its waterproofing and Nature had given a final throw of the dice to boot. The wet weather continued in fits and starts throughout the day, never clear long enought to allow us to dry completely and, as we came to 100km our plans for a final evening of sitting our underneath a clear African sky for our last supper were looking less and less likely. Our final evening therefore was a new experience, having seen abandoned buildings a-plenty on our trip we now found use for them as a shelter. With two tents nestled in on a sandy floor, and a fire in the corner to smoke out the hungry mosquitoes we happily drank our celebratory carton of wine sheltered from the rain which continued to rattle our tin roof.
The further we came South the more developed Mozambique had become, with more commerce, banking and traffic on the road. The South African influence was inescapable and gave a tantilising taste of what we might come to expect from the most economically advanced country in Africa. Shops stocked South African commodoties, convoys of 4x4's with slick ocean fishing boats sped past us and bars hopefully affliated themselves to South Africa, such as the "Cape Town Rest House". Xai-Xai was the biggest town we had come through since Blantyre and as we passed through, out of the mist came a jaw-dropping sight - a KFC with Drive-Thru! Urban legend has it that no two countries which have a McDonalds have ever gone to war with each other, although this may not apply to their competitors, it certainly felt like the beginnings of something more commercial than we had seen and, perhaps, developed.
Lady luck seemed to smile on us one more time and, despite the slightiest of early morning drizzle we soon had clear, sunny skies for the final ride into Maputo. After cycling 6600 kms the final 100 came all to quickly, as we came to within 20km of the city it felt like the road should have carried on, that there must be more for us to cycle. How much more we weren't quite sure but this couldn't be it, surely? Nevertheless, it was to be the end. We rolled down the final hill to Maputo Bay and plonked our bike on the nearest bar for a well deserved treat of cold beer and cashew nuts. The bar staff crowded around our bike, tuting and shaking their heads at the sight of 6738 km on the speedometer. After savouring the moment for a short while, we headed into town to stay with Angie, Holger and their family. As has happened all too often on our trip we were welcomed beyond what we could have imagined. They have open their homes and taken us out for dinner leaving a debt of gratitude we will struggle to repay.
Although we might happily end this blog here, it wouldn't be quite fitting to finish without mentioning our second "brush with the law" of the trip which came on our final day's riding. We had long debated the idea of a naked cycle but, with different reasons getting in the way, it hadn't happened. For Rick, it was now or never and on a quiet stretch of road he threw out the suggestion. A short stop and two minutes later we were back on our bikes and could feel the wind (and our saddles!) on our pasty buttocks. We caused some amusement to passing cars, one man in particular who pulled over and came past for a second time, unsure if he believed what he saw the first. After a few minutes of harmless fun we stopped and put our clothes back on, continuing towards town for our mid-morning snack. Tens minutes down the road we were flagged down by the same man. "This is very serious, the police they are waiting for you in the town. They have stopped me and asked about the cyclists. This is very serious". He made gestures of them clapping us in handcuffs and leading us away to who-knows-where. He proposed an alternative which seemed much better, he offered to put our bike in his pick-up and drive us around the town! Breathing a sigh of relief we took him up and twenty minutes later were safely delivered to the other side of town. For us however the suspense continued, constantly fearing a police car may pull us over. At one point our nerves were tested as a police car pulled up behind and turned its siren on, only to come past as part of a VIP convoy...
As I sit and write this blog Rick is on a plane, no doubt somewhere over Tanzania, covering the distance we have in three and half months in three and a half hours. It was an emotional goodbye at the airport and he will be missed on our cycle to Johannesburg, where Gunnar and I will fly home from in a weeks time. It will be a fascinating final trip that hopefully will allow us to follow up on the taste of African style development, which has built up the further south we have travelled on our trip so far.
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| Sunrise through the coconut palms |
Our final three days were to be no mean feat, we had 500kms to cover in three and a half days. To have a chance of finding our way safely through what was to be one of the biggest citys' we had cycled through we wanted to arrive as early as possible into Maputo, and so planned to make early headway into our mileage. For the first two days we felt fortune was on our side, as the stiff Southerly winds we had struggled into down the coast had eased considerably. It was these same Southerlies that had brought Vasco De Gama North as he rounded the Cape of Good Hope in 1498, to colonise eventually Mozambique for the Portguese. The coast around Tofo had been one of the original places they had landed, where local people had brought forward avocados and tropical fruits to give the newly arrived foreigners, kind gestures which led De Gama to name the area the "Terra Des Boa Gente". The bounty of the area was plain to see as we passed glades of palm trees heavy with coconuts and tangerine stalls lined the road, selling 6 fruits for a total of 20 pence.
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| "White cyclist drinking coconut" camera photo makes it famous of Mozambique Facebook |
Added to our lucky wind break a mixture of strong wills, fresh legs and early starts meant that we had covered almost 240 km in a day and a half and were in a good position to make our push into Maputo. As we rode on we day-dreamed of our final ride into town, of a glorious sunny afternoon and a cold beer on the Indian Ocean. However, if there is one think we have learnt in three and half months it is never to expect anything. Our second night brought torrential rains and when Rick and I emerged from the tent to a drizzly, misty morning, which would not have been out of place in an English Autumn, most of our bedding was soaked through. As if to herald the end of our trip, the tent had finally given up its waterproofing and Nature had given a final throw of the dice to boot. The wet weather continued in fits and starts throughout the day, never clear long enought to allow us to dry completely and, as we came to 100km our plans for a final evening of sitting our underneath a clear African sky for our last supper were looking less and less likely. Our final evening therefore was a new experience, having seen abandoned buildings a-plenty on our trip we now found use for them as a shelter. With two tents nestled in on a sandy floor, and a fire in the corner to smoke out the hungry mosquitoes we happily drank our celebratory carton of wine sheltered from the rain which continued to rattle our tin roof.
The further we came South the more developed Mozambique had become, with more commerce, banking and traffic on the road. The South African influence was inescapable and gave a tantilising taste of what we might come to expect from the most economically advanced country in Africa. Shops stocked South African commodoties, convoys of 4x4's with slick ocean fishing boats sped past us and bars hopefully affliated themselves to South Africa, such as the "Cape Town Rest House". Xai-Xai was the biggest town we had come through since Blantyre and as we passed through, out of the mist came a jaw-dropping sight - a KFC with Drive-Thru! Urban legend has it that no two countries which have a McDonalds have ever gone to war with each other, although this may not apply to their competitors, it certainly felt like the beginnings of something more commercial than we had seen and, perhaps, developed.
Lady luck seemed to smile on us one more time and, despite the slightiest of early morning drizzle we soon had clear, sunny skies for the final ride into Maputo. After cycling 6600 kms the final 100 came all to quickly, as we came to within 20km of the city it felt like the road should have carried on, that there must be more for us to cycle. How much more we weren't quite sure but this couldn't be it, surely? Nevertheless, it was to be the end. We rolled down the final hill to Maputo Bay and plonked our bike on the nearest bar for a well deserved treat of cold beer and cashew nuts. The bar staff crowded around our bike, tuting and shaking their heads at the sight of 6738 km on the speedometer. After savouring the moment for a short while, we headed into town to stay with Angie, Holger and their family. As has happened all too often on our trip we were welcomed beyond what we could have imagined. They have open their homes and taken us out for dinner leaving a debt of gratitude we will struggle to repay.
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| "It was this big" |
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| Perhaps one of the most well earned beers yet |
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| Rick rides off into the sunset |
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