The Ride to Inhassoro

(185 km)

S 21º 34’ 37” – E 35º 12’ 25”

When I set out on this trip, I had planned to spend a few days somewhere on the coast of Mozambique, “recharging my batteries” and preparing for my return to the daily grind of my stressful existence… I had settled on Vilanculos as the spot to do this… The Palmeiras Lodge was secluded and quiet in this their off-season, and I enjoyed the peace and tranquillity, spending my days writing, swimming and taking short walks along the seashore at low tide…

I also planned to do a few short rides on the bike to explore the surrounding area, and one of the places I wanted to see was Inhassoro, about an hour’s ride north of Vilanculos. The bike was stripped down to its top-box only, and after a leisurely breakfast at the little restaurant that serves the Lodge, I rode out, back up the N240 to Pambarra and on to the EN1.

The restaurant at Palmeiras Lodge, which serves a continental breakfast each morning, prepared by Bonniface and Colleen…

There was no urgency on this ride, and I motored along at a steady 80km/h, stopping when I saw something of interest, and actually enjoying the jinking I had to do to miss the potholes on the 60km section north to Macovane. The weather was playing along for a change, and the ride was made in bright sunshine… I was dressed in a pair of jeans and t-shirt only, and enjoyed the feeling of the hot sun on my arms and the wind blowing directly onto my chest, keeping me far cooler than I would have been, had I worn my Boulder jacket and pants… Before I reached Macovane, and only half an hour into the ride, I noticed that my arms were turning a reddish colour, and realized that I was getting burnt by the hot morning sun… I stopped and applied sunscreen which I carried in the little Wunderlich bag secured to the handlebars, and then continued cruising north, until I arrived at the filling station at the turnoff to Inhassoro, at the settlement of Macovane. I bought a cold drink and then wandered over to the little restaurant hidden behind a huge banyan tree…

The filling station at Macovane, where I spent time chatting to the owner of the complex…

I had passed here a few days previously on my way south to Vilanculos, and had not noticed that it was more than just a small petrol stop. There were a few small chalets built off to one side with an ablution block which served them, and a larger building which turned out to be a house which could sleep six people. An open air restaurant and bar was tucked into a grove of trees and was occupied by a middle aged woman, making notes in a ledger and banging away at a calculator… She turned out to be the owner of the complex and we sat talking about Mozambique and the history of her business. She had inherited it from her father and ran it together with her mother, while her brother ran a transport business, with trucks running from Maputo through to Chimoio and back…

She was very forthright in her criticisms of the government, the roads and infrastructure, and brash South African and Zimbabwean Tourists, who caused havoc on the beaches with their drunken antics… My description of the roads I had ridden thus far on my trip, had her rolling her eyes heavenward, and I explained that I would be heading south towards Maputo in a few days… I asked about the road conditions and this set her off on another tirade against the government and their lack of progress in upgrading the roads… I said that I had heard that the roads closer to Massinga and Xai-Xai were “quite bad”…

Her reply brought a smile to my lips, as holding her cigarette in one hand, and with her other hand on her hip, she said, “They are not “quite bad” my friend, they are BAD!!” My laughter encouraged her to describe the depth and size of the potholes, and the danger involved in avoiding them and the oncoming vehicles playing their own game of dodgems…

I was enjoying speaking to her, as she had obviously been well educated and was not afraid to speak her mind on any subject that came up in our conversation… She advised me to visit the Hotel Seta in Inhassoro if I wanted to have lunch there, as it was the best place to eat at. While a few chickens wandered around and under the tables looking for food, I thanked her for the chat and made my way back to the bike and left to ride the 15km east, to the coast and the popular holiday destination of Inhassoro…

The road there was a single-lane strip of tar in reasonable condition. The owner of the complex at Macovane had described it as being “like a carpet” compared to what I would find further south!! Oncoming traffic veered off the road onto the shoulder as I passed, giving me a wide berth, surprising me with their courteous behaviour… I passed one of the “gravel making” businesses, where a group of well muscled young men were breaking larger rocks into smaller stones, using large hammers, and then raking the smaller stones into piles…

I cruised slowly through a marshy area where most of the larger pools of water were covered in water lilies. Jacanas and Crakes tip-toed across the surface of these lilies, hunting for food, larger herons waded through the shallows, and flocks of Red Bishops swept over the reeds to where their nests hung…

The entrance to town, and the road which dips towards the sea and the centre of Inhassoro…

I turned left off the main road once I reached the town, and into the entrance to what seemed to be a large holiday complex, the Hotel Seta… After getting directions to the restaurant, and being told I could ride my bike there, I skirted the main public area and idled down a narrow sand road towards the sea and a large open-air restaurant on the edge of the beach. It was much larger than I expected it to be and confirmed the popularity of this little town, especially with fisherman and their families… I sat out on the open deck, watching locals digging for clams and crabs in the shallows left by the outgoing tide. I took a dozen or so deep breaths and felt my body begin to wind down… This was the life…!!

The restaurant at the Hotel Seta…

I ordered a Mac-Mahon and a plate of fish and chips and settled down to enjoy the pleasant surroundings… The tide was at its lowest ebb, and a few hundred metres of beach was exposed to the hot sun, the turquoise blue of the water contrasting sharply with the white sand of the beach. Laughter from a group of crab hunters drifted up to where I was sitting, and I turned to watch them digging in the sand with their sticks and netting the crabs, as they exited their burrows in panic…

A European contractor supervised the enlarging of the already expansive deck, and I watched as he gave instructions to the guys assisting him… The pace at which they worked had me thinking that this deck might not be ready for Easter, and I had to turn away to avoid going across to get them to “shake a leg”!!

I was joined by a South African lady who was visiting the area and we sat discussing the pace of life here and the friendliness of the people, enjoying our surroundings and peacefulness of Inhassoro…

The large portion of fish and chips arrived and was cooked to perfection… I ate slowly, enjoying the company and relishing the fact that I did not have to worry about where I would be staying tonight or the unloading of the bike… It was an 80km doddle back to Vilanculos and I still had five hours of daylight to do it in… I watched a smallish dhow with a bright blue sail cruise slowly past the deck, its occupants waving at me when I stood up to take a few photos of them. Once again I wished I had brought the bigger camera with me on this trip, as I would have liked to get a clearer picture of them with the longer lens… They sailed further up the coast and then brought the dhow closer into shore and furled the sail in preparation for a landing on the beach…

I thought again of the simple lifestyle so many people here were able to lead, and wondered if I could ever adapt to the slower pace of life that so many ex-pats I had encountered, enjoyed… Of course I could!!!…..  

A fishing dhow sails past the deck on its way up the coast…

With the sun beginning to drop towards the western horizon, I paid the bill and headed back onto the road, and began the ride “home”. On the way up the coast I had passed the entrance to the Catholic Mission of Santa Anna, and decided to ride up to the large church which lay at the end of a long rutted driveway. I sat the bike while looking at the front of the church and the convent tucked behind it. There was not a soul to be seen, and I wondered where all the people could be. The place seemed to be well maintained, and a much larger complex than could be seen from the highway, was stretched out behind the church… I would have liked to take a look inside the church, but its doors were firmly shut, and with nobody to ask permission from, I turned the bike around and rode back to the highway…

Both the tide and the beer were running out as I lounged on the deck of the Hotel Seta…

The Catholic Mission of Santa Anna, south of Macovane on the road to Vilanculos…

I crossed back into the district of Vilanculos and took the turnoff to the coast which came up soon after. Keeping the bike in 4^th gear, I rode at a steady 60km/h back to Palmeiras, enjoying the slow pace and returning the waves of all the kids playing in the sand on the side of the road…

It was early evening when I rode through the gates of the lodge, parked the “Big Fella” under the shade of a large flamboyant tree and then retired to the pool to float there until darkness blanketed the land… I had thoroughly enjoyed the lazy day and felt that at least some of the tension had begun draining out of me… I could have done with many more days like this one….