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| The pretty pink boat that could |
So I’m in reception at
Escondidinho, the forlorn Frenchman’s guesthouse on the historic Ilha de
Mocambique. I’m already hot and discombobulated. It has taken three hustlers, the
receptionist, the forlorn Frenchman’s son, a frenzy of sign language and
haggling over small denominations of cash to finally kick start my Mozambican SIM
card and load airtime onto my smart fucking phone.
Now here I am talking
to Nelson from Coral Lodge 15.41 across the bay.
“Hi Nelson, do you
think you could er, lend us the cash to pay the boatmen to come out to your
place? Um, this is Bridget, er Bridget from the Ministry of Fabulousness…” With a touch of Cash-flow-alitis- in-foreign-landus.
“The island banks, they’re not synched to our, er, finances right now”. It was
true. Darling’s Bank of Hawaii was not speaking to Ilha do MoÒ«ambique’s Millenium
Bim Bank . Funny that.
Pause.
“Of course!” said
Nelson with enthusiasm, actual enthusiasm. “I will have the cash waiting for
you, see you later”.
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| Salty sailor hard at work |
And so we sailed local
style with a couple of happy salty sailors across the bay to Coral Lodge in an
old-fashioned dhow and sure enough, there scurried down the stairs, the cash-carrier
and above Nelson stood, arms akimbo and said “Welcome to Coral Lodge”.
Aaah Coral Lodge. Karra-raj
as it sounds in softer Swahili, corra-lodj,
in swarthy Portuguese. Mmmmm. Soft white sands, baobab sunsets, fabulous
food and really cool people. Set in a little bay with thatched chalets,
a pool, various places of repose, a sexy bar and dining room visited
occasionally by a nagapie (bushbaby) which
sat on Darling’s head for a while. I can’t remember its name now, damn I should
have taken notes but I was drinking an incredible G&T at the time, with
lime, cinnamon, Madagascar peppercorns and star anise.
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| The place for honeymooners and swooners |
Seriously this place is
amazing: there are outdoor showers, air-con built into the bed (WTF!) cushions
everywhere, beach loungers. Waiters pop up with coconut milk cocktails at just
the right time. You can go on gentle snorkels and dives, a bit of quiet
kayaking or just hang out and swim. Oh and the Indian Ocean, that sighs and sings
in blues and greens. Sweet tides.
Coral Lodge is the place for honeymooners, swooners,
crooners, over- the- mooners. But the part we liked the most turned out to be the
village nearby the lodge. This is Cabaceira Pequana, an ancient place with
crumbling noble mosques dating back some 600 years, and a small population of
about a thousand. It’s famed for its cemeteries and architecture and its boa gente (good people) as Da Gama
described them.
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| Acine, part guide, part wannabe pop star |
Our guide was Amine from Coral Lodge. When he wasn’t working he was a singer in a local band. So along
with a solemn visit to the grave of Mussa Al Biki who was the sultan here at
the time of the arrival of the first Portuguese, he also took us to a house to
watch a short video clip of him performing a kind of R&B island rap. “It’s about a
broken heart right?” Said Darling with simpatico. Amine nodded and touched his
chest.
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| The children of Cabaceira |
He took us on a tour of
the village and we saw children, cats, dogs, goats and chickens, and old men
playing games on wooden boards. We peeked inside the small cool houses with
thatch and reed and the spaza shops which have little on offer. Cabaceira is
caught in the grip of old and new. There are increasing numbers of cellphones
and satellite dishes but the people still live mostly off the land, a few employed in the hotel or on the island.
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| Water from an ancient well |
The village still draws
its water from a well built by Vasco da Gama. Think jazz maestro Abdullah Ibrahim’s Water from an Ancient Well. We watched the
young women and girls drawing water with plastic buckets and nylon ropes, waving palm
trees in the background. And then round the
corner, much to Darling’s delight there was a soccer field with actual soccer
players! So he dashed on for a round or two and got over excited as men do when
they play football. I think it was the
highlight of Nelson’s life when he heard about it. What is it about men and
football?
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| Darling in action |
“We of Coral Lodge will
never forget you”, he said to Darling, when we left. “You have played football with us, you have played the trumpet and made us happy and worn our
bushbaby, thank you ... thank you my dear friend”. He said that about a million
times when we left – and afterwards in emails and Facebook messages, “Dear
friend, we thank you for the love and enthusiasm you gave us in these past days, many
hugs from Nelson… oh and say hello to Brenda.”
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| The iconic dhow upon the Indian Ocean, sigh... |
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