Dag 79, 14 September

Voetspore Zambezi

Julie, Augustus, September 2021

Dagboek Week 12

Marromeu

Dit was ‘n mooi sonsopkoms langs die kerk. In die nag het ons maar las van die muskiete. Mens verstaan hoekom so baie mense in die plek malaria kry.

Ons pak op en vertrek. In die dorp ry ons verby ‘n put waar mense water pomp. Afrika se vroue werk hard om water aan te dra. Dis ‘n daaglikse roetine..

Ons is die dorp uit. Dis 50 km tot by Marromeu, maar dit is ‘n uitsonderlike slegte pad. Dis diep, skep slaggate. En dan is ons ook nie eers seker of dit die roete is wat ons by die see gaan uitbring nie.

Net na 10 kom ons aan in Marromeu. Kwassie Myburgh ontmoet ons. Hy is legendaries in die gebied. Hy woon reeds meer as 20 jaar hier. Werk by die Sena suikerplaas op Marromeu. Soos hulle hier sê: As Kwassie nie weet nie, sal niemand weet nie.

Ons gaan saam met Kwassie na die suikerplaas se gastehuis. Daar is vir ons gereël om hier te oornag. Ons gesels met Kwassie. Hy sê ons kanse lyk nie goed nie. Nie op die suidelike kant van die rivier nie. Ons sal moet terug, Caia toe, en die rivier daar gaan kruis.

Kwassie maak aan ons ‘n ander voorstel – hy sou ons met ‘n boot kon neem. Dis so 7 ure vanaf Marromeu.

Ons besluit – ons sal die volgende dag terugry, oor die brug na die noordelike oewer, en af tot by Luabo. Daar sal ons uitvind of ‘n roete see toe loop. Indien nie, bel ons vir Kwassie en hy stuur sy boot.

Die middag gaan wys Kwassie vir ons sy besproeiing op die suikerlande van Marromeu. Daar is meer as 80 spilpunte, maar die waarop hy die meeste trots is, is die liniêre besproeiing. 200 ha word deur die Ranger benat teen wat gelykstaande is aan 10 mm reën per dag. By Marromeu is daar ook die tweede grootse liniêre besproeiing in die wêreld. Die sisteem is meer as 1 km breed.

Ons gaan kyk ook hoe die water uit die Zambezi in kanale gepomp word. Die ongeveer 600 liter per uur by net een pomp.

Ongelukkig was daar onlangs ‘n brand by die aanleg en is dit tans nie operasioneel nie. Hulle moet van duisende tonne riet wat reeds gekap is ontslae raak. Dis groot skade.

Die aand gaan eet ons saam met Kwassie en sy dogtertjie Layla by die Club op Marromeu. Die peri peri hoender is uitstekend. Ook Norbert se hamburger. Buite die Club hang daar derduisende vrugtevlermuise aan bome. Nou, na donker, gaan hulle uit om te vreet.

oOo

There was a beautiful sunrise at the church. During the night we had serious issues with the mosquitoes. One can understand why so many people in this place contract malaria.

We pack up and leave. In town, we pass a well where people are pumping water. Africa’s women work extremely hard by carrying water. It is a daily routine.

We leave town. It is 50 km to Marromeu and on a very bad road. There are very deep potholes with sharp edges. And then it is uncertain if this route will take us to the ocean...

Just after 10, we arrive at Marromeu. We are met by Kwassie Myburgh. He is a legend in the region. Kwassie has been living and working in Marromeu for more than 20 years at the Sena sugar farm. As they say in Marromeu, if Kwassie doesn’t know, nobody would.

At first, we go to the sugar mill’s guest house. It has been arranged for us to stay there for a night or two. We have a discussion with Kwassie. Hy says the chances of going to the ocean on the southern banks are slim, if not impossible. We most probably must go back to Caia and try it via the northern banks.

Kwassie has another suggestion – he can take us by boat to the mouth of the Zambezi. It will take approximately 7 hours from Marromeu.

We make the call – the following day we would drive back, cross the river at Caia and drive down to Luabo. There we will try and get a way to the ocean. If impossible, we will phone Kwassie and ask him to send a boat.

Late afternoon Kwassie shows us the irrigation system in the cane fields of Marromeu. There are more than 80 centre pivots. The one that he is most proud of, is the linear system. 200 ha is covered by the Ranger that irrigates the field at 10 mm per day. The linear system at Marromeu is the second biggest in the world. It is more than 1 km in width.

We also look at how water is pumped from the Zambezi into canals for irrigation. More than 600 litres are pumped per second.

Recently they had a massive fire in the control room of the sugar plant. Therefore they are not operational at present. Thousands of tons of cane had to be destroyed. The loss is massive.

That evening we went for supper with Kwassie and his daughter Layla at the Marromeu Club. The peri-peri chicken once more is excellent. So too Norbert’s hamburger. In the trees at the Club, there are thousands of fruit bats. Now, after dark, they fly off in search of food.

Dag 80, 15 September

Voetspore Zambezi

Julie, Augustus, September 2021

Dagboek Week 12

Marromeu

Die son sukkel om die oggend deur die mistigheid te breek. Dis amper bewolk. Meer dynserig.

Kwassie is vroeg by die gastehuis. Hy kom groet. Bring ook vir elkeen ‘n presentjie – ‘n armband met seekoei ivoor en buffel bas. Beide diere het hy met ‘n spies gejag. Dit verg durf en vernuf.

Ons vertrek die dorp uit en reis die meer as 100 km slegte pad na Caia. Een deel, tot by Chupanga, het ons reeds vantevore gery. By Caia tap ons brandstof, braai ‘n worsie onder die brug, en reis toe oor die magtige Zambezi. Dis die laaste brug, stroomaf, oor die rivier.

Vyftig km verder draai ons van die pad af in die rigting van Luabo. Die pad toestand verbeter. Dit blyk dat die Sjinese aandag gee aan die pad.

By die dorp gaan meld ons aan by die Chef de Buro – die man in beheer van dorp. Hy vertel dit is nie moontlik om Chinde toe te gaan met ‘n voertuig nie, maar ons kan veel nader kom. Daar is ‘n roete na Mecaune en vandaar tot naby Chinde. Maar dis reeds te laat om die pad nou aan te durf. Ons besluit om op die dorp te oornag.

Die Chef de Buro skakel die polisie. Hulle kom maak ‘n draai, neem ons detail, en verseker dat dit veilig is om in die dorp te kamp langs die kantore van die administrateur.

Streicher braai filet, en bedien dit met gekaramelliseerde groen rissie en feta, en Nina voeg Spaanse rys en ‘n heerlike vars slaai by. In die beste restaurante in Gauteng of die Kaap het niemand die aand beter geëet nie.

oOo

The sun struggles to break through the fog in the morning. It is somewhat overcast.

Kwassie arrived early at the guesthouse to come and say goodbye. He also brings us each a gift – a bangle with hippo ivory and buffalo boss. He killed both animals by hunting with a spear. That must have taken special guts and courage.

We drive the 100 km on the terrible potholed road to Caia. The section past Chupanga we did cover the previous day. At Caia, we refuel and stop at the massive bridge, spanning the Mighty Zambezi, to braai some wors for lunch. This is the last bridge, downstream, across the Zambezi.

We continue the EN1 for another 50 km and then turn right, direction Luabo. The road condition improves. The Chines are attending to the road.

Arriving in town we first report to the Chef de Buro – the man in charge of the town. He informs us that it is not possible to go to Chinde by road, but it is possible to get much closer than where we were. There is a route to Mecaune, and from there, a track, direction Chinde. It is too late to leave this afternoon, and we decide to stay the night.

The Chef de Buro contacts the police. They pay us a visit, take down our details, and assures us that it is safe to camp right in the middle of town, next to the office of the administrator.

Streicher is on braai duty. He prepares a fillet with caramelized pepper and feta, and Nina serves it with Spanish rice and a crisp salad. Nobody in the best restaurants in Gauteng or the Cape had a better meal this evening.

Dag 81, 16 September

Voetspore Zambezi

Julie, Augustus, September 2021

Dagboek Week 12

Micaune

Ons het ‘n gids, Francisco, en ‘n tolk, Jordan saam met ons. Hulle gaan wys ons die tweespoor paadjie vanaf Luabo na Micaune. Soos die kraai vlieg is dit 50 km. Padlangs, sowat 80 km. Ons kan nie die GPS laat “auto route” nie, want die pad is op geen kaart nie. Ons ry direkte lyn.

Die roete is ontwikkel deur jagters in die gebied. Nodeloos om te sê, die dag kry ons geen ander voertuie op die pad nie. Ons vorder elke uur 10 km.

Teen een uur kom ons aan by die dorpie Micaune. Ons stop langs die pad vir middagete onder ‘n pragtige mangoboom.

Na middagete gaan rapporteer ons by die Chef de Post. Die vergadering raak ‘n lang, uitgebreide affêre. ‘n Tolk, die plaaslike Engelse onderwyser, word ook ingeroep. Ons word deeglik ondervra oor die doel van ons besoek. Maar daar is ook slegte nuus – dit is onmoontlik om met die Cruisers vanaf Micaune te ry na Chinde. Daar is twee riviere in die pad, en die is onmoontlik om oor te steek. Daar is ook wortelboom woude wat baie nat en modderig is.

Ons hoor verder die pad noord, na Quelimane, loop ook nie meer deur nie. Die brûe wat daar was, is met siklone meegevoer en nooit weer herstel nie. Die veerbote wat in gebruik was, bestaan nie meer nie. Die Micaunepad is ‘n pad sonder begin of einde. Dit word 99% deur motorfietse gebruik wat die riviere per boot kan oorsteek. Die enigste voertuie is die van mense soos ons wat met groot moeite in die gebied kom.

Die Engelse onderwyser, Estinongue Made, sê ons kan ‘n plan maak. Ons kan ses motorfiets taxi’s kry wat ons die 30 km na die mond kan neem. Daar is egter te min tyd oor vandag. Ons moet kamp langs die Administrasie kantoor. Daar word selfs ‘n wag met ‘n geweer aangestel om na ons te kyk.

Dit is met groot afwagting vir wat op ons wag, toe ons die aand gaan inkruip.

oOo

We have a guide, Francisco, and an interpreter, Jordan. They show us the Jeep track from Luabo to Micaune. As the crow flies, it is 50 km. Actual distance, 80. But we cannot autoroute on the GPS as the road appears on no map. We use direct line navigation.

The route was developed by hunters in the area. It goes without saying that we encounter no other vehicles on the road, all day. Our progress is 10 km every hour.

At one we arrive at Micaune and have lunch in the shade of a massive mango tree.

After lunch, we report to the Chef de Post. The meeting becomes a long, drawn-out affair. An interpreter, the local English teacher, is called in. We are questioned about the motive for our visit. We also receive bad news – it is impossible to drive our Cruisers from Micaune to Chinde. There are two rivers that are impossible to cross. The mangroves are also too wet and muddy.

We understand the road north to Quelimane is not open either. The former bridges were taken away by cyclones and never repaired. The ferries that operated do not exist anymore. The road is used mostly by motorbikes that can cross the rivers by boat, and a few people like us manage to get to the area with great effort.

The English teacher, Estinongue Made, says there is a plan. We can take six motorbike taxis to cover the 30 km to the mouth. This, unfortunately, must wait till tomorrow. We set up a camp next to the office of the Administrator. A guard with a gun is even appointed to guard us.

It is with great anticipation that we go to bed.

Dag 82, 17 September

Voetspore Zambezi

Julie, Augustus, September 2021

Dagboek Week 12

Mond van die Zambezi

Dit begin ses uur die oggend. Ses van ons op ses motorfiets taxi’s. Dit is 30 km tot by die mond. Daar is vir ons gesê dit is nie moontlik met ‘n Cruiser nie.

Binne die eerste kilometer sien ons – dis beslis die geval. Oor ‘n diep sloot is daar ‘n klein bruggie. Dit sou nooit die gewig van die Cruisers kon dra nie. Maar ons gaan verder – ek saam met die Engelse onderwyser wat sommer optree as ons tolk, en elkeen van die ander vyf spanlede as ‘n passasier op ‘n motorfiets. Waar daar dik sand is, moet ons afklim. Ook by van die ander kleiner bruggies.

Na sowat 10 km kom ons aan by ‘n rivier. Hier sou geen Cruiser kon oor nie. Die motorfietse word met ‘n lendelam loopplank gevat tot by die water. Daar is ‘n boot. Een wat amper meer water aan boord neem as wat uitgeskep kan word. Die gate word met modder toegestop.

Die motorfietse word gelaai. Drie op ‘n slag. Ook ons. Dan word daar geroei na die ander kant. Om almal oor die rivier te kry duur amper ‘n uur.

Ons is verder. Gelukkig is ons gewaarsku om langbroeke en langmou hemde aan te trek. Die paadjie is ‘n enkelspoor, en daar is doring takke tot teen aan die rant. Dit krap ons dat die bloed loop.

Na nog 5 km is daar die tweede rivier. Dié is nog breër. Die bootjie om die motorfietse oor te neem nog kleiner. Die keer is dit twee-twee. Die oefening duur ‘n uur en ‘n half.

Die laaste sowat 20 km tot by die rivier gaan vinniger. Soms is daar wel wortelboom woude waarom mens moet ry, of diep sand. Weer eens moet ons afklim en verby die hindernis stap.

Dis net voor twee die middag wat ons by die laaste hindernis kom. Nou kan die fietse nie verder nie. Daar is te veel modder. Ons stap die laaste kilometer na die mond van die Zambezi. Wat ‘n wonderlike ervaring. Die reis is voltooi. Die eindbestemming is bereik. Meeste van die manne trek ons klere uit en storm die rivier in om te swem in die vars water.

Streicher vlieg die hommeltuig. Van bo is daar is geen twyfel – hierdie is die mond van die Magtige Zambezi. Op ‘n eiland in die delta sien ons die dorpie Chinde in die verte.

Ons vertoef vir ‘n uur. Maar dan moet ons terug. Dit gaan veel vinniger as die kom slag. Die gety is in en die riviere se watervlak hoër, daarom laai die motorfietse veel makliker en vinniger op die bote. Ons ken ook al die roetine.

Vier uur is ons terug by Micaune. Saam met ons motorfiets taxibestuurders drink ons ‘n 2M. Ons slaan kamp op en reis noord. Vanaand wil ons op die strand slaap.

Ons sukkel om by die see uit te kom. Daar is talle wortelboom woude in die pad. Maar van die plaaslike mense help ons om die weg te vind. Daar is egter honderde mense wat agter die drie Cruisers aan hardloop. Op die strand gekom, en ons maak soos in Indië – en ry weg van die massas. Seker so vyf of ses km. Toe is dit op met die duin en ons kamp langs die strand.

Streicher braai hoender. Norbert bak ‘n brood. Francois skink ‘n paar RnR’s. Ons is reg vir ‘n groot partytjie. Maar almal is moeg. Net na tien gaan kruip ons in, met ‘n heerlike koel bries wat van die see se kant af inkom.

Wat ‘n bevredigende dag!

oOo

We start at six in the morning. We are on six motorbike taxis. It is 30 km to the mouth of the river. We are told it is not possible by Cruiser.

Within a kilometre, we realise it is most definitely the case. There is a small bridge over a very deep ditch. The bridge would never carry the weight of the Cruisers. But we continue on the back of the motorbikes. I am the passenger of the English teacher who also acts as an interpreter. The others – with five other riders. Where the sand is very thick, we must get off and walk. So too at the small bridges.

After about 10 km we arrive at a river. Here, no Cruiser would be able to pass. The bikes are taken down to the water on an unsteady gangplank. There they are loaded onto a boat. This boat takes in more water than what the crew can bailout. The hole is plugged with mud.

The bikes are loaded, three at a time. So are we. The boat is then rowed to the opposite bank. Getting everyone and the six bikes across the river takes about an hour.

We continue. Luckily, we were warned to dress in long sleeve shirts and pants. The road is a single track with thorn bushes right to the edge. We are scratched until we bleed.

After another 5 km, there is another river. The river is wider and the boat that takes us across smaller. This time around it is two-two. This exercise takes an hour and a half.

The last 20 km to the river the progress is faster. We need to cross a few mangroves and sections of deep sand. There, once more, we need to get off the bikes and walk past the obstacle.

Just before two, we arrive at the last obstacle. The bikes cannot go any further. There is too much mud. We walk the last kilometre to the Zambezi. What a wonderful experience. The journey is complete. The goal is reached. Most of us jump into the river for a swim in the freshwater of the Zambezi.

Streicher puts up the drone. From high above the ground, it is clear – this is the mouth of the mighty Zambezi. On an island in the delta, we can see the small town of Chinde.

We sit on the shore of the river for an hour. But then we must turn back. The return trip is much faster. The tide is in with the subsequent raising of the water level of the rivers. Loading the bikes onto the boats are much easier. We also know the routine by now.

At four we are back at Micaune. We share a 2M with our motorbike taxi drivers. Then we strike camp and travel north. Tonight, we want to spend on the beach.

It is a struggle to get to the ocean. There are mangroves that prevent our progress. But the locals help us to find a way. There are, however, a few hundred people following us, running after the vehicles. When we reach the beach, we do what we did so many times in India – we drive five or six kilometres away from the crowd and then set up camp on the beach.

Streicher puts chicken on the coals. Norbert bakes bread. Francois pours RnR’s. We are set for a huge party. But everyone is tired. It is just after ten when we retire with a pleasant breeze blows in from the ocean.

What a fulfilling day.

Dag 83, 18 September

Voetspore Zambezi

Julie, Augustus, September 2021

Dagboek Week 12

Terugreis na Caia

Toe ons wakker word, staan daar seker ‘n honderd mense om die kamp om te kyk wie ons is. Met die toeskouers wat belangstellend toekyk slaan ons kamp op.

Op die strand het ons ‘n klein seremonie – ek gee vir elkeen van die spanlede ‘n kierie met Nyami Nyami, die Riviergod van die Zambezi daarop uitgekerf. Dis is om dankie te sê vir drie wonderlike maande. Hulle gee vir my ‘n roeispaan van een van die bote op die magtige rivier terug.

Ons neem die roete terug waarmee ons die vorige aand gekom het. Teen agt uur bel Derrich. Ek het my weeklikse afspraak op RSG.

Ons ry verder. Francois gaan haal ons tolk en gids. Hulle het die vorige aand in Micaune oornag. Dis die roete terug na Luabo.

Dit begin reën. Ons eerste reën van vanjaar se reis.

Ons laai Francisco en Jordan af in Luabo. Nou na Caia. Met die reën is die pad so glad soos ‘n ysskaatsbaan. Talle ander voertuie gly van die pad af. Maar die Cruisers doen goed.

By Mopeia stop ons vir middagete. Nina maak ‘n heerlike pasta gereg. Daarna is dit met die slegte teerpad na die EN1, en toe links na Caia. Ons kruis die Zambezi vir ‘n laaste keer. Dis soos ‘n ou vriend wat ons groet.

Laat middag kom ons aan by Catapu. Ant en Pat White ontvang ons weer. Ons eet aandete in die restaurant. Chanel, Lloyd en Jeremy van die suikerplaas by Sena het ook kom kuier. Môre, so weet ons, is ‘n lang dag. Steeds is dit ‘n laat aand kuier. Ons is net oor een ding bekommerd – Francois begin simptome van malaria toon...

oOo

When we woke up there were at least 100 onlookers around the camp. With all of them in keen interest, we strike camp.

On the beach we have a small ceremony - I give each one of the crew a walking stick with Nyami Nyami, the River God of the Zambezi, carved from wood. This is to thank them for three excellent months along the mighty river. They give me a paddle from a boatsman of the river.

We drive back on our breadcrumbs of the previous evening. Just after eight Derrich Gardner from RSG phone me for our weekly live interview.

We continue our journey. Francois goes to fetch our guide and interpreter who overnighted at Micaune. We drive back to Luabo.

It starts raining – our first rain for this year’s journey.

Francisco and Jordan are dropped at Luabo. Now it is the route to Caia. With all the rain the road surface becomes a skidpad. Other vehicles slide off the road. The Cruisers, on the other hand, is doing very well.

We stop at Mopeia for lunch. Nina prepares an excellent pasta dish. Then we take the potholed tar road to the EN1 and turn left to Caia. We cross the Zambezi one last time. It is like saying goodbye to an old friend.

We arrive late afternoon at Catapu. Ant and Pat White receive us. We have supper at their restaurant. Chanel, Lloyd, and Jeremy from the Sena sugar farms join us as well. Tomorrow, so we know, will be a very long day behind the wheel. Still, it develops into a late-night affair. We are worried about one issue – Francois is showing signs of malaria...