Mtwara (Tanzania) to Pemba (Mozambique)

You don’t expect everything to go hunky-dory on a two-month-long tour through the east of Southern Africa in the rainy season. But Megan de Witt says there are countless advantages to touring through Africa in the “wrong” season.

Despite everyone’s good advice, my friend and business partner, Rob Rule, and I decide – as usual – to go about matters back to front. It’s the rainy season in Central East Africa, the roads are bad, bridges non- existent and mosquitoes take you for chef Gordon Ramsay’s next masterpiece.

However, we pack the Cruiser, study the maps and decide to follow every back road and river crossing we can. We’re not intentionally playing dumb; we just always seem to be ending up doing things this way…

But see the bright side: we experience and see things and places few others are destined to see.

The road between Mtwara in southern Tanzania and the harbour city of Pemba in Mozambique is around 500 km long. It’s not so bad in winter, when the rivers aren’t in flood, but in the rainy season it’s a totally different kettle of fish. When it rains, you have to be able to handle the detours, and, on top of it, feed the hungry masses with bread and sweets, in the absence of fish.

If Plan A doesn’t work

We went touring for two months – in January and February last year – from South Africa up through Mozambique. We detoured through Zimbabwe because we couldnt’t cross Mozambique’s brimming rivers, headed back into Mozambique through the Tete province, and then went travelling up all along Lake Malawi. We entered Tanzania through the back door en route to the Serengeti before heading down the coast again to Mozambique, which we crossed diagonally to the west. We passed through Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and the Kalahari until we could return home, to Cape Town, for a change to clean up the Cruiser.

Jawellnofine. One of the biggest surprises was the Unity Bridge across the Ruvuma River, the border between Tanzania and Mozambique. Before arriving there, we camped in Safari Camp Ruvuma, some 50 km from Mtwara, a large town in southeastern Tanzania.

The facilities at the camp are very basic – water-filled buckets are standing ready for the showers and toilets. However, there are also soft sandy stands under beautiful trees on the beach on the tip of the peninsula this side of the Ruvuma River.

One has to buy supplies in Mtwara, because you can’t buy a thing in the camp. But the aqua-blue sea, coral reefs and friendly personnel make up for all the effort.

A very narrow, near-jeep track, leads from Mtwara to the Ruvuma River crossing at Mwambo. Hmm, someone was lying to us about crossing the river safely here. The ferry is nothing more than three small rowing boats joined by planks and tied together with leather strips. And the Ruvuma River isn’t just full – it’s bursting at the seams!

There is no way Mr Land Cruiser Owner will load his precious wheels onto this chicken perch. And does anyone perhaps know where the customs and immigration buildings are?

Now for Plan B.

We turn back to Mtwara and follow a decent gravel road all along the river, west to Newala and Masasi. The road is very wet here and there, but hasn’t been washed away, and there is less traffic and fewer roadblocks than elsewhere in Tanzania.

In each town people look at us as if we’re from another planet. We are two white people in a place that sees other white faces maybe once a year. On top of it, I have red hair, which everyone finds strange.

The Cruiser looks as if it has been tumbling through mud and bushes. It’s raining so hard the drops are bouncing off the soaked road and we are both sitting holding an ice cold beer. Is it really so strange?

A bit of drama is waiting between Masasi and the border post at Mtambaswala. We’re cruising, admiring the massive trees and impressive vegetation and enjoying the nice cool climate despite many prophets of doom having warned us against the scorching heat at this time of year, when we slide off the road.
It’s as if you’re driving on a bar of Geisha soap.

We get out. Fortunately, the vehicle isn’t damaged. We have a close look at the mud, drink some tea, get back into the car and carry on driving a bit slower than before.

Others were less fortunate. A bus is stuck about 50 km before the border - in the middle of the road. There are soaked people everywhere. Fortunately, the driver speaks English. “There is no way to pass,” he informs us amicably.

We also get out in the rain to look at the situation. The bus is on a rise, diagonally across the road. In front of it on the rise, a truck that got stuck trying to get up the hill has sunk up to its chassis. What now?

Eish. Pushing looks like work and the truck is heavy. On top of it, the small kids are hungry, mommy. A swarm of kids soon pick up that I have a soft heart.

I hand out sweets and bread and Rob gets the Cruiser in position for the recovery.

The winch is hitched. Mommy sets the example and starts pushing the truck. Within record time, the truck is freed and we are the new mayors of the region.

Loud applause and a pat on the shoulder is followed by impassioned invitations to overnight in the veld with the group of people. They almost beg us. Whatever we do, we just shouldn’t leave them behind, please, because how will they get out without our help should they get stuck again?

We kindly decline the offer and race off to reach the border before closing time.

The road is two deeply rutted muddy troughs. I won’t be surprised if we eventually have to swim across the river…

It’s also at this stage that we stop talking about a Cruiser and start referring to the vehicle as “tree-to-tree”. As long as there is a sturdy tree nearby, we know we can at least use it to winch ourselves out should we get stuck.

To our surprise, we reach an excellent tar road about 5 km before the border post.

The Unity Bridge is a joint project between Mozambique and Tanzania, and a connecting road is being built from both sides. A Chinese firm built the bridge – the in-thing nowadays when it comes to road building in Africa.

Made of cement, two massive ornamental elephant teeth join above the road on both sides of the 720-m long bridge. It’s beautiful.

Where do all the people come from?

The border post closes at eight and we are too late. Fortunately, the friendly bridge security officer invites us to sleep in the confines of the fenced-off immigration office.

The immigration and customs officials are there at 7.30 the next morning. They are professional and friendly and it’s a pleasure to go through the procedure that is so stressful elsewhere.

While we’re waiting on the Mozambican side of the river (Mozambique’s border post opens an hour after that of Tanzania), we chat to people travelling from the opposite direction. They have horror stories to tell about the first 100km of the road to Pemba. Apparently, you get stuck there all the time and traffic police terrorise you up to Macomia, where the new tar road starts.

The travellers say they were stuck most of the night and had to pay thousands of meticals to people that suddenly materialised from the bush to pick up their vehicle out of the mud and carry it to dry ground.

We tackle the road as carefully as we can. Although it is wet and we can see clear signs of people who got badly stuck, the Cruiser laughs off the whole stretch. Our biggest problem is the parts that are a combination of disintegrating tar road and gravel road …

Later, another traveller would tell us that people who had crossed the border with us, wrote off their Mercedes-Benz off-road wheels on that 100km long nightmarish road.

The traffic police are horrific. All along the way, they’re standing asking for money. Unfortunately for them, we realised the religion card works brilliantly. All we say is, “Sorry, it’s against our religious beliefs to pay bribes.” They are so taken aback that they let you go immediately.

Our gearbox conks in near Pemba. Rob first suspects the Cruiser was running too hot – it is also 42 °C outside – and we drive the last 20km in the 4x4 low-range gears.

Mercifully, there is a Toyota workshop in Pemba who sources and replaces the spare part in record time, but Pemba is such a blast we can stay here for a week anyway.

Advantages of the rainy season

Megan says there are many advantages to touring in the rainy season.

Drive where the spirit leads you. There are fewer people at overnight facilities, making booking unnecessary.

Camp anywhere you want. In most of the countries we travelled through, we could sleep safely under a tree, well out of sight from the road.

The area. In summer, there are innumerable shades of green.

Which border post problems? You pass through border crossings easier and quicker. Nowhere do you have to queue.