…was the easiest thing: Jason and I zipped through Zimbabwean immigration, walked past crowds of truckers and their vehicles about 500 meters into Mozambique and got into the short line at the immigration. Only briefly I gasped when the officer asked for 80 USD for the single entry visa, but quickly regained my countenance.
Entering Mozambique is not only expensive, but also taken serious. We were ushered into a small room where we had to undergo the exactly same procedure as when entering the USA. A small ball-like camera took our photo and our fingerprints were taken. This proved difficult: there was no reading and after several attempts, I was sent off to wash my hands. I never knew if it really worked afterwards or if they simply gave up on my index finger.
A bit of money was exchanged to pay for the chapa (small minibuses for local transport) and soon we raced into Chimoio. The 50 kilometers we covered in no time, comfortably sitting next to driver. Jason and I felt really great about what we had accomplished in a few hours and arrived in Chimoio with a very wrong assumption that travelling in Mozambique was easy.