The next morning we got our earliest start yet, we were able to cover 140 km despite having to stop to patch a flat tire, and replace two more broken spokes. That was our longest day so far, which was good preparation for the day I was planning for myself the following day. Wiz decided he was going to spend an extra day in Xai Xai and take a bus to Maputo because our allotted time in Mozambique was nearing an end, and we both wanted to have a couple days to enjoy the big city. I agreed we needed to get to Maputo, but decided I wanted to give myself one more big challenge to cap off the bike tour. That night we stayed with Zach our last and most mind blowingly generous Peace Corps host of all. From Zach's house in Changuen to Maputo was bout 225km...85 km longer than our longest day up to that point. My plan was to leave at four in the morning, pack a lunch, and ride all day to get to Maputo before sun down. If I didn't make it, I knew Peace Corps volunteers that lived just before the city limits I could stay with. So the night before I greased my chain, patched my spare tires, and got my rear tire as true as I could get it. I made three peanut butter and honey sandwiches and loaded up my saddlebags before getting to bed early.
That morning I actually woke up a half hour before my alarm was supposed to go off at 4:00 am, and was actually spry enough to start riding early. I rolled out of chenguen with a beanie and a headlamp stuffed under my helmet into the cold dark quiet. The sun hadn't even rose yet and I had been riding for over an hour when I got my first flat tire just outside of XaiXai, but I was able to patch it fast and get back out on the road by 6:00 am. I stopped on a bridge to take some pictures of the sunrise over the Limpopo river.
The warmth from the first glimmers of sunlight energized me. The shoulder was wide and there were almost no cars on the road so I started listening to my I-pod. I found myself in a rhythm and everything seemed to be working in harmony, my leg muscles were in direct unison with the bikes gears, and my tires glided over the smooth pavement just like they were set on rails. I must have kept an average speed of over 25 mph for over 2 hours. I didn't feel any fatigue, the music bumping in my headphones seemed to surge directly into my legs and my peddles pumped in harmony with the flying violins, and piano of the Amalie soundtrack, or the bumping hip hop beats of Blackalicious. Before 10:00am I realized I was almost to Macia which is over a third of the way to Maputo, I was way ahead of where I thought I would be and I still felt great.
When I got to Macia I realized that I broke two more spokes. I decided to take a break and fix them while I had access to a good pump. I didn't want them all to start going out on me while I was out in the middle of nowhere. I put in the new spokes and gobbled two sandwiches and got back out on the road by 10:30. I got back up to a good pace again and had been riding for about an hour when I blew my rear tire Again!! Damn! I was absolutely in the middle of nowhere, and cursing up a storm. While I was taking my tire off a very kind Mozambican lawyer named Helder stopped and offered me a ride. He could throw my bike in the back of his truck, and he was going all the way to Maputo. The cyclist in me wanted to patch my tire and press on, but not bad enough to trump the Peace Corps volunteer in me that couldn't pass up such a dream hitch. It turned out to be the right decision; Helder was the most shining example of Mozambican hospitality that I encountered the whole trip. Not only did he drive my bike and I all the way to Maputo in his brand new truck, but when we got there he took me to his favorite seafood restaurant for lunch and even took the time to drive me around and give me a quick tour of his beloved home city.
In the end I didn't achieve my big 200km epic day, but I wasn't too broken up about it. We weren't really riding for the bragging rights. We rode our bikes through Mozambique because we wanted to see the country at our own pace, unbeholden to any pushy minibus drivers, or unreliable bus schedules. Also you see a place in an entirely different way when your traveling through it on a bike. You can make eye contact and share a smile with the people you pass along the way. Not every encounter was so rosy; there was the obnoxious drunks screaming for money, or the ill-mannered teenagers entertaining their friends by calling us Mulungu. But those encounters were far and few between when compared to the good ones. The good encounters I won't forget:
-Passing by a waving smiling group of children, and making them squeal with joyThose are the encounters that are most important, and they certainly wouldn't have been as frequent if we were traveling by planes, trains, or automobiles.
as I let go of my handle bars to give them a two-handed wave.
-Flashing a smile and a hang loose sign at the slack-jawed starring boy, to remind him that he is actually looking at a human being, which he responds to with a giant
grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up.
-Seeing the appreciation on an old women's face when I slow down to tip the brim of my bike helmet like a cowboy hat, and show my respect with a “Bon Dia Donna.”
Another great benefit of biking was the feeling I felt that morning. I guess you could call it a bikers high. The feeling when everything just clicks and peddling no longer feels like a labor, but a rush. I've had similar feelings on the football field or basketball court; where you no longer feel like you need to think before your muscles act, your legs just fly beneath you, and every tackle or shot just feels effortless. It's the same feeling the writer has when the words just seem to write themselves, in one flowing stream of thought to pen. Or for the musician who's melody just comes pouring out of their instrument in perfect tempo and rhythm. It's the feeling of life flowing at you and being fully in the moment. I never thought I'd get such a high from riding a bike, but I felt it that morning with palm groves whizzing by and birds cruising along on my pace, I felt as alive as I've ever felt...and it felt good!
Our last few days in Mozambique were spent enjoying Maputo with great people. After two years of being a huge spectacle in a small African village it was really nice being anonymous in a big city. Zach and Ali came to town with us to play host, and they were awesome at it. During the day I entertained myself riding my bike up and and down busy streets named after communist leaders from around the world (Rua de Mao Ze Dung or Karl Marx Boulevard). I felt like a bike messenger trying to keep up with the flow of traffic, weaving around buses, and dodging opening car doors. I saw many of the museums and tourist sites by biking during the day. At night we were in Zach's hands, which is good because the man has his thumb on the pulse of Maputo's social jugular. We went to all night open air dance parties in backwater alleyways, drank beers and rode bumper cars with the dutch ambassador, and made friends with cool and interesting people all along the way.
I would have loved to have spent a few more days in Maputo, or even continued on with Wiz to South Africa, but riding through Mozambique took longer than I thought, and my vacation time was finished. I have a garden to tend to in Mwazisi, and I'm ready to get back to my home away from home. My last night in town a British ex-pat approached me, and said she heard I had a bike I might be willing to sell. I hesitantly acknowledged that I did. The purple people eater and I had been through a lot together, but it was silly to haul it back to Malawi especially when she was offering to buy it for the exact same amount as I bought it for. When the bike was sold the trip was officially over. I hugged Wiz goodbye, and got on a 4:00am bus that took 36 hours to get back to Tete. I crossed the border just in time to see Malawi celebrating a peaceful and successful election. It was a great trip, and Mozambique has etched out a big place in my heart, but it's really nice to be back in Malawi. After my first official vacation since starting as a Peace Corps volunteer I feel recharged and ready to dive back into my work.
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