Feature

I have never seen smiles more at ease and sharp and beautiful than I see in Mozambique - a country that has not had it easy. A successful fight for its independence from Portugal’s colonial rule in 1975 was followed by a devastating civil war just a couple of years later which lasted until 1992, at a staggering cost to human life. The intermittent abuse from cyclones has not helped much either.

Mozambique is still a slowly developing country, urgently in need of better schools, more AIDS awareness and more access to healthcare, clinics and hospitals. Its life expectancy rate is among the very lowest in the world. But its people are now experiencing an unprecedented period of stability and the Mozambican government has identified tourism and the country's incredible natural resources as a means to drive development and grow the economy. The path to recovery has started - investors are flocking and competing for bids on land development rights, understated resorts are popping up in the most secluded idylls, and every visitor receives a king’s welcome.
 
The portal for most visitors is the Mediterranean-style capital city of Maputo, though I only experience it from the inside of the airport and out of a plane window because I'm heading straight to the Quirimbas Archipelago, a chain of 32 coral islands off the far northern coast. Just south of the Rio Rovuma, the river that forms the border with Tanzania, this much less-visited part of the country offers an altogether more challenging experience. It's remote and rugged and lacks the infrastructure of the south, though as I'm about to find out, there are enough oases of calm and tranquility and downright hedonism here that even the tamest of travellers will be tempted to make the 1,000 mile journey north.

I land in the port city of Pemba, the capital of Cabo Delgado province where I'm spending a day or so before heading out to the islands. Charles, one of the helpful staff at the Pemba Beach Hotel is there at the tiny airport to greet me, waits patiently by my side until it's patently clear that my bag is not going to be appearing on the 10ft wide carousel anytime soon, and then helps me fill out a claim form. (I get my rucksack back four days later; a small miracle as far as I can tell.)

Equipped with nothing more than my camera, the clothes I'm wearing and a couple of books, I arrive at the hotel feeling suitably light, in both body and spirit. After an overnight flight from London to Johannesburg followed by a good few hours in the company of LAM, Mozambique's national airline, I'm fast approaching delirium. The Indian ocean is lulling and intoxicating, and it's hard to tear myself away from the muslin-draped sunbeds of the hotel spa's wooden 'relaxation deck' but my time here is short and I want to see Pemba up close.

Sturdy baobab trees and thatched huts of stone and straw line the only road into this town of 100,000 souls. Children run around barefoot, chasing things, weaving their way in and out of women balancing improbably large bags of produce and grain on their heads. Further along, dilapidated buildings provide makeshift forecourts for fruit sellers, barbers, and street vendors who attempt to sell me flip-flops of every hue under the African sun.

In the centre of town, I wander through the tightly-packed network of arteries that make up the central market and buy some essentials that I really can't do without considering where I am (swim shorts, for example). Further along, Pemba's rundown colonial architecture and dusty slopes dotted with sparkling tin-roofed huts provide me with ample photo opportunities. Down by the old port, skeletons of decrepit trade boats lie scattered across the sand, clambered over by a steady stream of locals.

Life here seems both frenetic and placid, formidable and yet somehow benign. I sit on a wall high above the beach and watch the street life play out around me as the late afternoon turns into evening. Some of the faces I see are inscrutable, but the majority are welcoming, responsive, curious and kind. If you think about this claim in the context of Mozambique's recent past and future challenges, you’ll understand just how extraordinary it is.

I've stared out of a lot of plane windows in my time, but it's fair to say that the short flight from Pemba into the Quirimbas Archipelago in a small seven-seater is one of the most extraordinarily memorable. This isolated group of pristine islands scattered loosely off the coast of Pemba and stretching as far north as the Tanzanian border is one of the major reasons why Mozambique's star is currently in the ascendent. This is the stuff of pure fantasy and the view from above is so jaw-droppingly beautiful that it's hard to believe the islands have remained so unexplored for so long.

The southernmost eleven form part of the Quirimbas National Park; unique in the world for being established at the express request of those who live here. Not only is it one of the most biodiverse marine regions on earth, it's also home to a number of incredibly rare species such as humpback whales, sea turtles and most notably, the dugong. I arrive at one of these specks in the sea - Matemo - with the aim of uncovering what lies underneath its shores and within the first couple of hours of setting foot on its sands, I'm plunging backwards off the side of a boat with my qualified dive master, experiencing my very own kingdom of rays and eels, triggerfish and barracuda.

The diving on offer in the Quirimbas is considered to be among the very best in the world, and the waters surrounding Matemo are home to seven major dive sites, making it one of the most sought-after dive destinations in the country. Pretty much every type of diver is catered for here - shallow coral "bommie" dives for lovers of rainbow coloured reef fish, a 40 metre wall dive for experienced gamefish seekers, and even a 90ft wreck dive for the truly adventurous.

Back on land there are even more indulgent pleasures on offer at the laidback Matemo Island Resort, Matemo's only accommodation. If the word 'resort' fills you with dread, this is about as far removed from those connotations as you can get. Check-in takes place at the writing desk in the 'lobby', which is essentially just an oversized, Arab-influenced chillout lounge replete with cushion-strewn day beds underneath huge stained-glass lanterns, and a cosy bar and restaurant leading off its opposing doorways.

The sleeping part of my stay takes place in one of 24 palm-thatched beach bungalows with my own hammock and a view of the indescribably turquoise ocean as soon as I open my curtains. It just about makes me want to sit on my deck and not move for the entire duration of my visit. But move I must, because lying a mere 40 minute boat ride away is the magical island of Ibo, a former Portuguese colonial slave port and, according to more than one source, Mozambique's next hot-spot.

Some places disclose their uniqueness slowly, requiring you to peel back the layers and dig. Ibo reveals hers in an instant - the moment I jump off the boat I know I'm somewhere remarkable. This island was once Mozambique's mightiest trading post, but it's remained all but invisible to the outside world for almost a hundred years. Now, slowly, people are returning to its shores to witness the revival of its ancient buildings, to watch its silversmiths at work in the crumbling workshops of the star-shaped fort, and to experience the special, almost ghostly atmosphere of its wide acacia-lined avenues and alleys.

I'm shown around by a native resident who works as an official island ambassador . One of the first places we visit is the old customs house where records of slaves were (and still are) kept. Piles and piles of faded string-bound papers and books are stacked above a rusty typewriter and the sobering weight of history fills the room.

Most of the island's grand old mansions are still abandoned and lie in ruins, with trees sprouting out of holes in the rooftops and monkeys jumping over the rusty wrought-iron railings trying to steal whatever fruit they can. But these are fast becoming sought-after properties; the objects of a number of sensitive restoration projects. Preservation of Ibo's heritage is thankfully being taken very seriously here, although the intermittent electricity and lack of cars, tv, internet and general tourist infrastructure should prevent the island from becoming an overly gentrified version of its former self, at least for now.

Back on Matemo, I have to admit I'm not exactly falling over myself to get to Medjumbe, the next and final island on my journey through the Quirimbas. There's always the possibility of disappointment, especially when I feel like the island to end all islands has just been discovered, and I'm sitting on it.

But how quickly we adapt! Medjumbe stuns me out of whatever sense of complacency might have begun to creep upon me. It's a small private island, meaning the only people here are those staying and working at the Medjumbe Island Resort. At just one kilometre long and 350 metres wide, it is literally all yours.

I go for a run along what appears to be the most sublime beach ever, and look up to find myself at the far end of a gently curving sandspit that has its edges demarcated by the Indian ocean on both sides. And when I turn around I see the twinkling lights of the bar and lounge in the distance, dwarfed mostly by the sky and the sea, and the golden-pink sun sinking into the water.

If this all sounds a bit too much, it's because it is. It's no coincidence that the island's primary inhabitants are honeymooners, which is fortunate because there isn't terribly much to do here besides marvel at the natural beauty all around you. Of course, that's not strictly true. You can dive, fish, sail, snorkel, windsurf, kayak, water-ski, birdwatch, or simply fall asleep on one of the overstuffed sofas in the loft lounge that overlooks the bar. In fact, you can more or less do anything you like. Treat the place like a second home. At least, that's what I'm encouraged to do by the unobtrusive staff. Let's not beat around the bush here, this is the ultimate in upscale African luxury  - the sort of place where they actually will bring you the moon on a stick if you ask for it. But I'm more than happy just to ogle it in the sky.

And so it ends as it begins - another flight, and another chance to gaze down on the now recognisable outlines of Matemo and Ibo as I head back to Pemba for my longer flight back down south to Maputo. As I glide over the painterly blue reefs below, I'm reminded of the 1976 Bob Dylan song 'Mozambique' - "I like to spend some time in Mozambique/ The sunny sky is aqua blue/ And all the couples dancing cheek to cheek/ It's very nice to stay a week or two" - and ponder that though the good man apparently never came here himself, he pretty much got it spot on.

Practical information:

Virgin Atlantic offer direct flights to both Nairobi and Johannesburg from where it's possible to fly to a number of destinations in Mozambique. From Johannesburg you can fly to Pemba with either South African Airways or LAM, and from Nairobi with either LAM or Kenya Airways.

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About the writer:

Freelance writer and photographer Krzys Piekarski is a Polish-born New Yorker who also teaches writing and literature at the University of Texas. He is currently collaborating on a full-length travel book with Texan sailor Ben Edelstein who has recently returned to the US after 8 years circumnavigating the globe.

Krzys travelled as a guest of Rani Resorts.

Visit our Mozambique Destination Guide here