Friday morning I set about finding out what was happening with this so called island tour. I hadn't heard anything from the guide, so I waited around my accomodation for a while before venturing down to the dock to sit for a bit (it was also had the best mobile reception). Soon enough the guy from yesterday came up to me and wondered why he hadn't heard from me - he had given me his number but I had put it incorrectly in my phone so hadn't been able to contact him. He said that the group was coming soon, and I should grab my stuff and be by the dock.
At 11am I was there and waiting. Soon enough a group of mzungus (white people) arrived and went off into the island. I wasn't too sure what was happening, the guide was gone and so I was just sitting there. Eventually the guide came back and told me that they were about to get on their dhow toward Matemo island. However, I couldn't get on the boat because there wasn't enough space, instead I would use another boat and pay 1500 meticais ($27aud). I asked about the price of the trip, and all I would have to pay for was the food and accomodation, and any guide tips. So I agreed, because there wasn't a whole heap of money involved and I wasn't sure what else I would do on Ibo Island. He said to wait there, a captain would come and collect me, and he rushed off to join the other group which was setting off.
I sat waiting until after 1pm. No captain. A crowd of kids had shown up around me and were interested in the padlock on my backpack and pointing out the flaws on my body, ie. the marks from all the mosquitos bites I have and my hairy legs. I was getting a bit restless as I had been there for over two hours now and nothing had happened. Eventually though a man came up to me, told me in broken english he was the captain, and to come with him. From there we had to walk 20minutes to another dock with boats - in the sweltering heat and carrying all my luggage. Fun. We finally made it though, but had to wait because the tide was out and we couldn't go out just yet.
I sat in the dirt for another hour as he went out to investigate his boat. In the background I could hear the continued mutterings of the "mzungu", but had no idea what they were saying about me. After a good hour he was back on the shore and said to come with him. He took my big backpack, and we walked the 500m out to where the boat was. This wasn't all too easy though. The first 3/4 of the walk was just mud which turned into ankle deep water. Eventually though, there was only little sand/diry and just lots of coral ... spiky coral. He had motioned for me to put my shoes on, but my thongs had broken, so he gave me his. And then they broke as well as I got stuck in mud. It was a process of fixing the shoes, putting them, on, and then them breaking again. I did my best to avoid the spiky coral but it was difficult. It wasn't until later on that evening that I realised how sharp it had been - I now have some quite deep cuts on the bottom of my feet.
We got on the dhow however, and set sail. Because it was still low-tide, the captain and his accomplice had to use long poles for the first 40 minutes to push us out to deeper water. It looked like very difficult work (this boat did not have a motor). Once we passed the shallow area we were able to set sail. I had no idea how long it would take to get to Matemo Island, but it was the best part of 3 hours before we finally reached the shore. While the first part had been fine, after halfway through I was starting to feel a bit ill and uneasy. We thankfully reached the island without any issues.
After jumping into knee high water, I had finally made it to Matemo Island, part of the Quirimbas Archipelago. It was nearly sunset and the island was beautiful. I still had no idea what was happening and there was no one on the island except a few ladies who took my bags and told me to sit as they set up tents. The beach was white, and the water a clear blue. Every single shell I found was completely intact and it did feel like I was a million miles away from civilisation.
After an hour, the guide and the group of people showed up, they had just been to another island. I still had no idea what was happening, but the next day I would get to go with them snorkelling at a shipwreck and go searching for dolphins! The group of people were all Spanish and Portuguese living in Pemba. It was a long weekend so they had decided to go out to the islands. I spoke to a few of them and they were nice, but I think they were wondering why I was there (and so was I to be honest). Dinner that night was rice and fish, but I had some sort of tomato sauce instead.
I had been told that I would be sleeping in a tent that night and was looking forward to camping on the beach, but there weren't enough tents. This further gave me the impression that I wasn't supposed to be there and had just been tacked onto the group by the guide so he could make a few more mets ... Instead I would sleep on a bungalow for 800 meticais ($15aud). I would have to take a motorcycle there as it was on a different part of the island, so after dinner I set off. The trip took about 25minutes and I think I can safely say I've ticked off all major forms of transportation on this trip.
The bungalow was quaint, it was by the sea and was just a mattress with a mosquito net (which had a few holes). I was hoping for a proper shower, but it was another bucket one. I was very tired though, and slept very soundly by the ocean.
At 6:30am the next day I was taken back to the campsite via motorcycle, and apparently had to pay 300 meticais for the bike transfers, which I hadn't been told about. After that we ate breakfast and were back on the dhow. This boat was much nicer than the one I had arrived on, it had a motor, and there was definitely enough space for one extra person. The guide had asked me to pay 1500 meticais to go on their dhow, but I said no because I had paid the same amount the day before for one person, surely this would be cheaper with 10 other people? He agreed to 700 meticais instead. I started talking to one of the girls though, and she said that they had paid for the boat in its entirety, so I wouldn't have to pay anything, and not to pay them any more money. It was becoming obvious that the group hadn't really requested other people to join the group, the guide just wanted to make a bit more cash from the trip.
My lil bungalow
From there we set sail to go snorkelling at a shipwreck. I was excited, despite it being a bit overcast today. However, as we got going I began regretting not taking a motion sickness tablet, I hadn't needed one the day before so I thought I would be fine. As soon as we stopped the boat and anchored, the swaying got a bit much for me and I was a bit sick. I wasn't able to go snorkelling, not that it seemed like great conditions for it anyways - the waves were too rough and there wasn't enough sun. Thankfully I wasn't the only person feeling sick from the waves (several other girls were as well), but I still felt pretty bad. We went off searching for dolphins, but only saw a few fish.
At 1pm we were back at Ibo Island. After being asked for money for the boat in Portuguese, one of the girls said that I didn't have to pay anymore and that we should leave. I was happy not to have to pay any more money, but I offered the group some cash anyways, which they didn't accept. We said our goodbyes and went back to our respected accomodation, myself at Karibune. I wasn't particularly happy to be back at Karibune and just wanted a proper shower and toilet, but I made do. Later that afternoon my 11 year old tour guide showed up and he took me to another local restaurant where we ate rice and matapa again.
Matapa and rice for daysssss
My eleven year old tour guide with surprisingly good English
The following day I got ready to leave the small island of Ibo and head back to Pemba. At 7pm I was at the dock with no idea what was happening. I asked around for a bit ("Pemba? Pemba?") until a man took pity on me and helped me buy a ticket, and then directed me to the boat for boarding. This trip felt a lot shorter and soon enough the boat dock was in sight. This boat was bigger than the last one I had been in, and had a roof, but still was quite cramped and uncomfortable - the wooden plank I was on was very hard and I was half in, half out the dhow really. The boat couldn't go very close to the shore, so we had to hop onto a another boat which took us to knee high water. Jumped into the water, got my feet very muddy, and was directed to a chapa headed to Pemba.
The chapa was not in great condition and there were lots of people trying to get in. My bag was loaded on top and I thankfully was given the front seat. In the back there were at least 20 people crammed in, and the guy who handles the money was sitting out the window. It looked very uncomfortable and I was happy for my seat in the front for the 4 hour drive on the dirt road through the Mozambican villages.
Tomorrow - Nampula.
Half in/half out the dhow
Front seat in the chapa ... you can see the guy hanging out the side in the mirror...
lol
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