An AK-47 is on the flag of Mozambique, and also makes up the seal of this country. This is all I knew before I arrived. As the surf crashes up on the beach beside me, I’m drinking a cold 2M Mac Mahon–De Cervejas De Moçambique.

For a country with a gun on its flag, it’s a pretty tranquil place. These last few days have been phlegmatic and spontaneous. Showing up on-time for scuba diving is the only reason you need a watch out here.

The waves crash off into the distance, forever. It’s a soothing sound. I’m looking out into the expanses of Tofo Beach. It’s a wide bay with plenty of beach–beautiful.

Scuba dive by day, drink by night seems to be the pace of things out here. Friday night was a bit of an adventure. You can only really party on Friday night, and the party is at Mozambeat Motel. It’s a bit of a walk, about 20 minutes from the beach.


One can only handle so many gin & tonics. It was me, another Canadian, a Dutch girl, two Americans, and a Hungarian girl out on a mission to sing karaoke and drink heavily. The only bus out of here leaves at 3:45 AM and so our American friends were on an absolute mission to party until then.

The Dutch girl picked up a guy with the efficiency of Saga Norén, while the Americans floated around bubbly. The Canadian peaced out, and the Hungarian passed out. One can only handle so many gin & tonics, and so I woke up the Hungarian and said it was time to go. She threw up in this completely silent way that I’ve never seen before. I was stunned, it just slid out. Impressive.

How some people manage to compose themselves while drinking amazes me. Quickly I realized she couldn’t quite walk. “Shit” I thought silently…I’ll never make it home. Suddenly I see two men get in a car and get ready to drive home. It’s worth a shot.

I knock on the window with that desperate look in my eyes. The window rolls down and I already know they’re going to give us a ride–what I say is insignificant. We get to Fatima’s Nest in a few minutes and I thank our heroes.

Somehow, someway the Hungarian smoothly makes it up to her top bunk, curling up into a ball and passing out.

I’m hardly drunk.

I watch an episode of The Bridge and pass out favicons.


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