Monday 11 July 2011

The Bare Necessities

So we haven't quite made it to Ibo yet.

Jen and I have been staying, as you know, at a backpacker establishment known as Russell's Place (named after the owner) but its other name is Pemba Magic Lodge. We now know why the place is "magic" - two nights ago our backpacks mysteriously disappeared without trace from our dorm room. Thankfully Jen and I had our valuable stuff - money, passports, laptop, camera with us in the bar at the time of the theft and so haven't lost any of that. We've just - rather tediously - lost our clothes, shoes, toiletries and - most annoyingly - all the little trinkets and souvenirs and presents we'd picked up in Africa over the past six months. Nothing world-ending to lose, but bloody annoying nonetheless. Jen's been shopping today for a change of clothes and some toiletries, but it is safe to say that we're right down to the bare necessities now. How very hardcore of us.

How did this happen, you may ask? Well the dorm we were was built onto the top of a shipping container and so while it had stairs, it didn't actually have a door (which in Africa is pretty standard on dorm rooms). That being said, it was upstairs and out of plain view, and our backpacks were chained by travel lock to our bed. Compare this to a number of the campers in Russell's establishment who were simply in unsecured tents with bags lying unprotected next to them and you can see our suspicion - we were by no means the easiest or most convenient target, and yet somehow our bags seem to have been specifically targeted by someone who knew they were there. The "guard" to our dorm was apparently asleep and somehow the thieves (because there had to be more than one) escaped completely unnoticed.

Now I don't want to go slinging around claims like "it was an inside job."

But the inescapable conclusion is that it was an inside job.

Russell isn't actually here at the moment and his manager Rafael has been handling things. And by "handling" I mean making a half-arsed attempt to seem concerned whilst telling Jen (twice) that "maybe if we gave a little money the bags would show up again." It was unclear to Jen whether he was asking for the money himself, or just indicating that this is the way things work around here, but it's lucky for both Rafael and myself that he said that to Jen, and not me. Had he said it to me he would now be in hospital, and I would now be in jail for assault and GBH. It's actually quite galling to still be staying here, but we've had to remain here so that our dealings with the police could go more smoothly and they knew where and how to contact us. We have, at least, been moved to a different room.

Speaking of the Mozambican police, well it's been reassuring that in a week of such distress and confusion they have been all we expected them to be - bureaucratic, unhelpful and generally incompetent. They are also refusing to give us a copy of the police report we signed, due to it now being "secret." Telling them that it's not actually a secret from us given that we're the ones who wrote it (translating everything we lost into Portuguese no less!) and signed it has so far proved unsuccessful and, I daresay, will continue to remain so. While in the police station for the third time I actually saw a list of cases under police investigation where someone had been caught and arrested. Having seen these guys in action I was genuinely stunned - how bad a criminal do you have to be to actually get caught by these mugs?

It would be remiss of me not to mention Hywel and Megan here - introduced by Jen in the previous entry - who have been absolute champions over the past couple of days. They've bought us drinks, assisted us with the police, Hywel even offered me clothes...and most brilliant of all they've just cooked us the most stunning seafood feast on the basis that they didn't want our memories of this place to be negative. Having also had such a good (albeit brief) time with James and Sam on Mozambique Island, we can only think that the house the four of them shared in Malawi must have been a fantastic place to live.

And in the spirit of not letting such an incident have a negative impact on our trip, we have decided that tomorrow we're going to go across to Ibo and the Quirimbas Archipelago anyway, and what's more we're going to get to the boat on a private 4WD transfer rather than a seven-hour chapa ride. I reckon we've earned that.

A final mention though, to our dear Russell and his truly "magic"place. I've done quick count and by my reckoning we've so far this year found accommodation at 122 different hotels, hostels, guesthouses, homestays and campsites. At 121 of those we haven't been robbed.

Take a bow Russell. Take a bow.

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