Meanderings in Mozambique

This does not feel like a new country, but a new continent. I am on some strange footing, somewhere between Africa and Europe. The portugese influence is everywhere. Wide, tree lined avenues run to open squares. The language remains the offical tongue. People promenade in stylish dress. There are long, sleepy afternoons. There is a forgotton feel to the place, like as if the Portugese just up and left, forgetting to tell the rest of the world.

I decided to fly from Dar es Salaam to Beira (in the middle of the country, on the coast), where I have come to met a man running a sustainable forestry programme in an area just north of here (more on this soon).

I got here safe and sound, but my bags remained in Tanzania, and trying to get information about when I might expect them has been a test to my patience. It could be Saturday, it could be Tuesday, it could be.. well, whenever. I am finding that time takes on new dimensions here. What you think may take an hour, takes a day. What you think may take a day, takes three. There is an element of just having to go with the flow, and seeing where it takes me. I am hoping it will eventually bring my bags to Beira, and in the meantime, I am off to camp in the forest- just have to find a toothbrush first!