I heard some murmur early morning. Oh, boy, I slept in. I wanted to be gone by now but yesterday was very draining. I stuck my head outside the tent and noticed three locals, who walked that scurry track, Zimba and I came from last night. We weren’t far from the border. We were in a forest. There was no one here. By the time I got down from the loftus tent, they had gone.

I was sipping on my first coffee, thanx to Theodore. By the way, does any of the Taste Bakehouse crew see the photos of or with Theodore? No one says anything. So I haven’t been posting anymore.

Anyhoe, the three locals returned, pointing at their bellies. Okay, fair enough. So I gave one of them some vegetables and bread I had spare to share. Then she wanted money. Okay, is that it? It’s all about the money. And so they trotted off their merry way, I thought that’s the end of that. Quick and easy. But! Ja, this is Africa. Never forget this saying when traveling in Africa.

Not too much longer, a crowd of a dozen walked up to us, asking what I was doing here. People are just not used to seeing a zebra in the paddock. I handed them again the iPad to read the story in Portuguese.

‘We want to check your car’. So, one person checked things here and there. Nothing has been found. I had no idea what they were looking for but fair enough. After the usual ‘What are you doing here, you should be staying in Manica, people are scared of the strangers’ back and forth, I asked what they wanted? ‘Yes, I slept here. It was quite here. No people. Until you got here. So, what do you want? I can give you some money?’

‘We don’t want your money. We are scared of you. You are a bad man. We call the police!’ A wanna-be tough nitwit said.

At this point….? Well, I lost it. I couldn’t believe what this flibbertigibbet was telling me.

‘I am a bad person? No one wants my money? Because everybody wants my money, I am here in the first place!!! She wanted my money’ as I pointed to the lady this morning. ‘Did you share it with everyone?’ I asked, diverting the discussion. ‘I didn’t stay in Manica because there are too many people. Too many blockheads like you, who keep telling me, what I must do. And who the F… are you to tell me I am a bad person?’ as I moved closer. ‘You are not scared of me, otherwise you would have called the police first! Now you should be scared of me. Now you can call the police! I am on my way.’

The powers of the second coffee. I turned Zimba in a tight corner and headed for a tight exit. Some tried to block us and asked me not to go. ‘Foetsek!’ as Zimba’s turbo kicked into gear. He sounds great in full revs.

Fair enough, I was waved down by a policeman on the side street. I guess Zimba’s markings are unusual around here. He was very friendly and just said that he had been called about this particular incident. ‘Bon dia and yes’ I said as I handed him the iPad. I just added vocally. ‘I had a long day and just needed somewhere to stay’. ‘Have a safe journey’ he said after reading my Portuguese story. ‘Thank you, officer.’

So, I was on my way to Tete. And from there, we will enter Malawi. People are so friendly there. But first, a vacation in Tete is on the cards. There is a camp I stayed 6 years ago. Right by the river, left next to the bridge. There I can just chill for a few days and catch up with stories.

I still have 29 days on my visa.