The road just improved the closer we got to Tete. We were making good time and even with the late start in Guro we would be in Changara before three o’clock.
The long straight downhills had us messing around,filming each other and discovering the best results were by letting go of the handle bars operating your camera with a steady hand.
Stupid and irresponsible as it sounds, it also gives you a chance to straighten out your back and rest your weary arms.
Still playing around Marc gave out a shout.
Marc missed it by inches, all I could do was slam on the anchors to avoid hitting it.
Adrenaline pulsed through us both as the snake sailed across the road in a flash of green. Black underbelly and bright green back, small black gaping mouth and possibly one and half to two meters long. It moved unbelievably quickly.
Not being Bear Gryliss’s we moved on as quickly as the snake did. Anyway we did not have to resort to eating it yet, we still had enough rice and soya beans! We cycled into Changara with all the warnings spinning in our heads. Everyone had warned of Changara, the talk of tsotsi’s and scams had us puzzled. We stopped at a restaurant and ordered the usual half chicken and chips you find everywhere, and the well deserved cold beer.
Changara is a junction town. The road leads south to Beira, north to Tete and Malawi, and west to Zimbabwe, directly to Harare. This has made it a hub of prostitution and loads of truckers, yes it can be dodgy, but its just as dodgy as any town in the Tete corridor can be.
After our chicken and beer break, we went to the police commandos to meet our contact. Being a Saturday our nameless contact was in Tete. So we had no help from the police. Not even a recommendation. So back to the restaurant.
Within five minutes we were shown were to stay and were not to stay. Our lovely waitress pointed out the brothels from the legit accommodation and we were soon in a room unloading the bikes ready to call it a day.
Our neighbour was a young proud Mozambican from Maputo. Foggy spoke English well and we sat drinking beer and chatting. He brought out pots and insisted we ate with him. Rice and stewed meat. It was great to be eating meat. Red meat!
Foggy is only twenty one and working on the construction of the new petrol station just outside Changara. He has a weakness though. He cannot resist a woman and in a town like Changara thats a dangerous and expensive flaw.
Changara does not sleep. It is buzzing constantly, even on a Sunday morning.
Foggy explained why all the Mozambicans are so anti-Changara.
The town is basically run by Zimbabweans, which was very clear when we walked through the market the following day. Everyone speaks Portuguese, but then switch to fluent English in an instant.
We thanked Foggy for his help (he supplied us with boiling water and coffee) and company during our stay. It was hot when we left at 07:30, with a ninety kilometer day ahead.
