Schooled on Maputo’s streets
Sibusiso Ngalwa learns some lessons in the Mozambican capital
ONE of the first lessons Maputo taught me is that a street map of a town can sometimes be nothing more than just a piece of paper.
After landing at Maputo International Airport with photographer Simphiwe Nkwali, I eagerly accepted the car-rental assistant’s offer of a copy of the town’s map. We were there for a conference and since it was my first time in Maputo and we had no GPS, it made perfect sense to have a copy of it.
But even with a map, we struggled because the street names are hard to find on the roads.
What was meant to be a fiveminute drive to the Hotel Cardoso ended up taking a good 30 minutes. Until you get to the CBD, most streets are without markings, especially on the outskirts of town.
And it did not help that there was a language barrier, Mozambique being a Portuguesespeaking country. This meant we could not understand some of the verbal directions offered by friendly strangers. Fortunately, we finally got the right directions from an English speaker.
The useless map was not the only item I chucked onto the back seat, my winter jersey had to go as well.
We’d left Joburg on a typically cold winter morning and arriving to sunshine was something to be excited about. Soon we found our destination, perched on a hill overlooking the coast, with green lawns, a flowing pool and splendid views of the bay.
We decided to enjoy sundowners while marvelling at nature’s beauty but abandoned the idea almost immediately after realising that we’d have to pay R60 for a bucket of ice from the hotel bar. Now that was quite sobering.
Another lesson learnt was that Mozambique is quite expensive (but not as much as Angola). And there were more lessons awaiting us.
Taking a drive around the town in search of a cheap drink gave us a bit of a tour.
Each building we passed seemed to have its own story to tell. Some of them, with bullet-riddled walls, still bear the scars of the civil war.
It felt like a time warp as we moved from a densely populated residential area with potholes and derelict buildings into the well-lit business district, teeming with tourists and locals in the popular bars and restaurants of the capital.
What Maputo lacks in infrastructure, it makes up for in its vibrancy and the warmth of its people — and the weather, of course.
Our first stop was the Piri-Piri restaurant, famous for serving the best Portuguese chicken in town. It didn’t disappoint.
This was followed by a trip to the popular Coconut nightclub, on
the beachfront. The music — a mix between American hip-hop, South African afro-pop and a tinge of popular Portuguese bands — made for a homely feel.
Because of the touristy crowds that the club attracts, Coconut is also quite popular with “ladies of the night”.
As an acquaintance soon discovered, the tricky part lies in trying to figure out who is who. Trust me, it becomes almost impossible, especially after a few beers.
As expected, the hangover the following morning was not pleasant. For me, a good meal is the best cure for a hangover and the town is legendary for its seafood.
Food lovers will tell you that a trip to Maputo is not complete without a visit their fish market. The smell may be off-putting but the food makes it all worthwhile.
It does not come cheap either: six giant prawns set me back R500 (or 1500 Mozambican meticais) and side dishes are priced separately.
Unfortunately, the fish market is not the ideal place to visit if one intends to have a quiet lunch. The place is buzzing with small traders selling DVDs, wooden artefacts, ground nuts, beaded key-holders and fake designer sunglasses.
Those guys are a bit bullish in their sales pitch and will persist until you give them an emphatic: “I don’t want to buy anything.”
Every town in the world has its idiosyncrasies. In the Mozambican capital, if it’s not small traders trying to force you to buy their items, it’s the fishermen demanding payment from the photographer for taking pictures of them.
But Maputo is still a nice place to visit — even if only to escape the Joburg winter.