Lofty the affable Cessna pilot directed my gaze to a collection of blackened bruises on legs that stuck out like two battered, overripe bananas from his shorts. “Watch out for the palm flies — they’ll eat you stukkend. Check what they did to my legs.”
Life is wild at Msasa Lodge in the Vilanculos Coastal Wildlife Sanctuary, a 30 000ha land and marine conservancy on the San Sebastian peninsula, a short distance from Vilanculos, the tourism capital of Mozambique’s Inhambane prov- ince and gateway to the Bazaruto Archipelago. Msasa is a small, rustic camp located in the tropical undergrowth at the edge of a small tidal estuary, surrounded by mangrove swamps. There are few frills — but the chalets are clean and comfortable. The point of staying here is to get far away from the madding crowd and enjoy the complete relaxation camp life engenders.
However, my first night was far from relaxed and was spent tossing and turning under a claustrophobic, holey mosquito net, which I tried to seal up with tissues. The heat was cloying. Three smoking mosquito coils placed strategically in the hut worked overtime keeping all things flying and thirsty at bay.
I decided to do some exploring before breakfast, winding my way along thickly wooded pathways that lead around and through the palms and msasa trees, which give the camp its name. I didn’t encounter Lofty’s palm flies. The mosquitoes are enough, though, although malaria has not been reported on the peninsula.
There’s actually not much to do at Msasa that doesn’t involve trek- king through the undergrowth. The birdlife is plentiful and inland freshwater lakes provide some nice spotting opportunities, but that’s where it ends. The beach is a healthy walk or short shuttle-drive away. After a spot of snorkelling in the very murky but teeming waters around the jetty, I ended up lying around, scratching my bum for the rest of the day.
A day later I moved out of the hot, sticky undergrowth of Msasa and on to the scorching beachfront and the relative luxuries of neighbouring Dugong Lodge. After settling in, I began to look around for things to do. I went for yet another walk on the beach, another murky snorkelling session and a dip in the cooling pool, whereafter I ran out of ideas and settled at the pool, admiring the view over the archipelago but feeling slightly bored. At lunchtime I went diving at Nyati Lodge. Dugong is a few kilometres away from Nyati. To get there by boat required deviations as the tide was low and the archipelago’s unending sandbanks meant trouble for outboards.
In the end it took the entire afternoon getting to and from the dive site but, ultimately, it was worth the trip as the reefs below the waves were packed with life, even if the visibility on that particular day was not the best.
The dive crew at Nyati were very helpful, which put me, a novice diver, completely at ease. The rubber duck, however, made for an exceptionally hairy ride as the skipper and dive master gunned it at full tilt out over the breakers at the reef’s edge. I hung on for dear life. Still, it beat the hell out of rattling around the lodge with too much time on my hands.
All these activities on and off boats made that evening’s open- air dinner on Dugong’s deck seem all the more satisfying.
Further exploration around the lodge the following day produced similar results to Msasa: there are activities, but most of them revolve around the water and are too expensive for those of us not living in a far-flung tax haven. So I sat and admired the view.
Because of its distance from everywhere else and its remote position, it’s hard to explore Dugong Lodge. I got a fleeting glimpse of the monumentally decayed Vilanculos on the way from the airport to the boat. It’s in sharp contrast to the more visually pleasing destinations on the archipelago’s islands — Bazaruto, Magarugue, Benguerra. Out on the San Sebastian peninsula, the locals are hard at work building monuments to greed — huge holiday homes, which are being sold for $250 000 each.
I am glad I made the trip, but Lofty’s palm flies had finally caught up with me — the itching I had taken for sunburn turned out to be hundreds of bites on my shoulders, back, buttocks and the backs of my thighs. I began to understand the man who said that after we’re all turned to dust, insects will inherit the Earth, and made a mental note to buy shares in Doom.
Sharon van Wyk was hosted by Msasa and Dugong Lodges and flew to Vilanculos courtesy of Pelican Air Services
The lowdown
Pelican Air Services is the only licensed air carrier to fly scheduled flights from Johannesburg International. The flight is about one hour and 50 minutes long. The service operates daily. Tel: (011) 973 3649 or check out www.bazarutoislands.com. Rack rates at Msasa Lodge are US$100 a person a night sharing. At Dugong Lodge the rate is $250 a person a night sharing. Children younger than 12 stay for $154 each a night. Children younger than four stay for free. This rate includes breakfast, lunch and dinner but does not include a community-bed levy of $3,50 a day and the cost of transfers to and from Vilanculos, which are currently $40 a person, one way. Non-motorised water sports such as hobie cats, pedalos and snorkelling are free of charge. Fishing is available for $45 an hour with petrol charged at $1,20 a litre. Waterskiing and lessons cost $40 for half an hour. Diving from Dugong is $60 a time, excluding transfers by boat or any equipment hire.
Tel: (011) 234 4950. E-mail: [email protected].