There’s a quote that reads “people don’t take trips, trips take people”. One such trip was about to unfold.
I don’t remember much planning, just a mention of an adventure up North. A week later we were on the road.
Two thousand five hundred kilometers, five days and two border crossings later we sat with palm tree dotted landscapes, ocean edged villages and endless blue skies. Surfboards, boardshorts, bikinis were all we needed to swap a little bit of the South African winter for an early summer in Moçambique. We had a whole month of surf travel and limitless exploration ahead of us and we planned to make every moment count.
The night before we sat in front of a fireplace mapping our desired route; the night before our lives were ordinary and we had no idea that the journey we were about to embark on would set the standard for all future surf adventures. With then Surf Cafe owner, surf coach and pocket rocket of a surfer; a man so tall that it sparks off conversations, whom pretends to work but actually explores for a living; a yogi, musician and wisdom extraordinaire and traveling fine art jeweler and slow life ambassador- there was no doubt that things were going to get interesting.
The morning of departure brings a howling Northerly, this meant good waves all along the coast but in order to actually reach our destination we knew we had to be selective. As we rolled onto the N2, in the distance, white sprays and blow out barrels were being framed beautifully by the Volkswagen kombie windows and on any other day we’d be out there hooting and hollering, but today, long before we knew Africa was calling.
Winding roads took us through contrasting landscapes. With each passing minute the open road unfolded in front of us, loosening the grip of our everyday routine. We stopped to buy pineapples from a lady in layers of dress and trousers in shades of yellows, greens and orange. We stopped and stayed just south of the Kei Mouth. A view of the lagoon and outstretched beach met us early the next morning, a bird’s eye view of three-to-four-foot glassy surf in the distance was enough to set the tone for the day. Darting through the Transkei always inspires. The lifestyle, the vast open spaces. The beauty of life truly lies in simple things. Lured by how uncomplicated things seem. The colours of the houses, turquoise; peach and then some. Creativity was cultivated in Africa.
After a day of rural sunlit exploration, we leave the Kei behind as last light falls. The sun sets over a world that has no value of time but a life that is dictated by the sun and the moon. We pushed through to reach the lower South coast of Durban- a warm water west coast simulant. A stone’s throw away from the beach, we arrived at a place with tipi’s, tree houses and a forest located jacuzzi- it was a world if not explored one would know nothing of. We spent the night and then another, in hope of finding waves and when we eventually did we knew that we have found a portal into paradise. I felt challenged and outside my comfort zone as soon as we hit the water. The wave had power and punch and commitment was at the order of the day. With each set passing I could hear my heart pounding in my head. Clear water and blue skies eventually calmed my nerves. Every wave thereafter had me coming back for more. There is little in this life that satisfies as much as being humbled by the ocean. Dropping in to align and attune.
We make a quick stop in Mtunzini, where free range children wonder the garden and play make belief and dress up. We get to stay in a caravan at the far end of the property, pick avocados fresh from the tree that was to become the base of every meal from Moçambique and beyond.
An hour into our drive the next morning we realize that the map and all-important paperwork was left in Mtunzini. We had no choice but to turn back, a well-deserved second cup of coffee and yet another breakfast was feasted on before hitting the road once more. We make it to the Swaziland border and push through to Moçambique. Our first sunset dips out of view over an empty rural landscape and we find ourselves in awe.
The further we head North the more preconceived ideas fall by the wayside and instinct takes over. The beauty of travel lies in a change of scenery and routine that leads us to discover more about ourselves than we ever knew existed; but most of all the beauty of travel lies in the fact that we get to do really crazy things and be completely wild and feral, as no one really knows you and the effort of living up to societal standards no longer means a thing. Absolute bliss. We arrived at our destination in time for an afternoon surf, an all girls line-up had me smiling from ear to ear. We pitched our tents on Mocambican soil for the first time that evening.
We took a day to settle in and the next to visit the market. What makes this country so incredible is the Mocambican soil grown fruit and vegetables so readily available. We ate mielies from the cob, bought peanuts, chilies and plenty of fruit. No shiny shop fronts or glitzy blinding glamour; just local fabric, handmade wooden jewellery and fresh fish and rice from the market restaurant. Each day new faces and different places.
Every morning was met with surfboard under arm in hope of something brewing on the back line of the point. We were seldom disappointed, partly because we were in another country and partly because it was part of our own continent. After a week of trekking down to find a wave, one would think we’d skip a day or have a lie in, but religiously we woke up at sunrise and took that walk of hope. Not by force but by choice, as if led by a deep convicted revelation of the life of the soul surfer.
Adventures unfolded accompanied by surf first, eat later, explore after. We walked from one end of many ocean edged villages to the other, spending time with the locals and as I let my camera lens capture poetry in motion I slipped into the Mocambican slow life. Another market set against an ocean backdrop, where the wind brings news of a different way of life. Days were long and it felt like we could fit a million and one things into just a second. An early morning surf, coconut bread ‘smousing’ from local barefoot children; a dhow trip across to Pansy Island, an afternoon walk-about and yet another surf well into the night. Blue skies and off-shore winds, warm water; snorkeling on unknown reefs and a television forever blaring with low budget music videos that Africa calls her own.
Void of contact with the outside world, Africa settles within you as if you’ve always belonged, like this truly was your home and in hindsight you almost don’t grasp why life should be any different.
Africa took us by the hand and lead us to treasures in unexplored waters, she also showed us that being different, raw and true to yourself brings ultimate freedom and authenticity. After a month of living in a tent, making coffee on a fire, in my feral wild state, it was time to head back. Maputo brought one last night of dancing to the rhythms of Mozambican flare.
After thirteen years of surfing I thought I knew it all, but I was clearly wrong, as I left with open eyes to a whole new side of surfing and a whole new side of me. A side of surfing that I always knew existed but could never find. A side of surfing void of pride but filled with humbleness; void of ego but instead filled with soul, void of selfishness and instead filled with unconditional love for the ocean and all that it brings.
After thirteen years of surfing it took a trip to Mocambique to remind me that as the ocean changes so do we- how one trip, unexpectedly, shaped a stranger into myself, is the reason I keep on exploring, I keep on traveling and I keep on surfing.