Archive | Mozambique

Transport in Mozambique

Everybody in the hostel was surprised to find me in my bed the next morning, so I had to tell my story over and over again. The only relief I found was pouring my heart out to via facebook and eMail. A short relief: the Internet café closed around noon for the whole weekend. Me, who never feels bored, who always finds something to do, was experiencing a very unfamiliar feeling: boredom crept in! I seemed stuck, but I swore I would not travel that bus again until I got a seat upfront.

Memorial in Chimoio reminding of the revolution

Only a couple of dogs were barking when Jason and I marched through sleeping Chimoio at 02:00 am to catch the bus to Vilankulo. The bus stop was already busy. Passengers, vendors and those who have no better place to go were standing around.

We squeezed in the tiny seats all the way in the rear of the bus and worriedly observed more and more people climbing in. Soon it was clear that the folding seats in the aisle were to be used. Packed like this, with sacks of onions and roots filling whatever space was left, we sat in the station for 1½ hour. Nothing happened. With every minute I felt more like a sardine, unable to move and unable to leave the bus. By 04:00 am I had difficulty breathing and the scary feeling crept in that I could not do this trip.