A few days of bright warm sun on perfect beaches, no one else around, warm crystal clear water to swim in - what a way to finish a celebratory month in Africa.
I am on the edge of Africa, the middle coast of Mozambique. I was last in Mozambique a few weeks after the end of the bitter and protracted war of liberation that brought Samora Machel to power in 1975. What a strange time it was as my young wife and I travelled through towns where hotels and restaurants had simply been abandoned by their owners who had decided to flee to Portugal. I clearly remember hitchhiking back from Swaziland and being picked up in the dark by Frelimo soldiers who delivered us safely to our pension in Maputo. It did not occur to us to be fearful. Youth is a strange protection.
Vilanculos is a small fishing village 700 kilometres north of Beira. It is the access point for the exquisite Bazaruto Archipelago, a paradise of sand islands, aquamarine waters, warm ocean and idyllic balmy temperatures year round. More recently, some of the islands have become the home of uber-exclusive resorts that host the obscenely wealthy who are flown in by helicopter from the tiny local airport.
I was able to ignore that as I walked the beaches, swam and snorkelled in the warm waters and relaxed for a few days before returning to my real life. The colours are seductive and magical. The people are gentle and welcoming. It would be very difficult not to relax here!
The long journey home starts today.
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