Queimadas

This whole place is starting to burn. Natural fires, controlled fires that are part of management of the park itself (though not a consensual practice), and illegal fires (not really controlled). These are called cold fires. Low intensity, low temperature fires, consuming mostly the grass layer. Later the time will come for intensive and more penetrating fires.

The sky is often covered by a layer of brown to grey-ish hue, and the intense smell of burnt vegetation is a constant. As the flakes of ash hovering are. What is left is a desolated landscape and dark grey ground, waiting for the rain to wash the ashes away, and for the new grasses to emerge that will delight all the grazing animals.

On a side note: a lost explosive device from war times is likely to have gone off yesterday after lunch time. Might have been triggered by the heat resulting from the fires. A deep loud blast spread over the camp-site. No one injured. All is good.

Close encounter with elephants

Just had the most thrilling encounter with elephants this morning, at 5.15, when heading to the field to ring birds. A bunch of elephants in the middle of the road, 50 metres from us, eating. Surrounded by pitch black night, just the lights of the car to let us see what they were up to. Road sided by trees and shrubs, no fast nor easy way to reverse. Shut down the engine and kept the lights on, pointing at a young adult looking at us. The air smelling to nitrogen coming from the ground where  tall Acacia trees over 10 metres were uprooted by these animals. Could only think of how on earth would I get the four of us out of there if the elephants decided they weren't cool with us. Heart pumping heavily though not too fast. Just kept looking at their reaction and that of the ranger with us. One hand at the gear-shifter, the other on the keys, ready to flee driving somehow backwards on a zig-zagging road, with fallen trees by the elephants. 10 minutes into this the elephant decided to keep eating from the trees. We can relax a bit. Other elephants making loud noises nearby. Every time he looks at us the blood pressure going up again. Other 15 minutes go by, they turn us their backs and decide to leave the place. We wait a couple of minutes more, I start the car and we decide to get a different spot to ring birds. One that doesn't go through a pack of elephants.

Then we got 6 or 7 birds in the nets. And that's an good morning.

This to add to another encounter earlier this week. An lonely male that after crossing the road in front of us, and to whom we gave the room and time to walk away (and he indeed was walking away) decided to turn back and run toward us. Ranger cocking is rifle but easier escape that time then, as I just needed to step on the gas and rush away from there.

In the city and an escape top the beach

After postponing it a week, we set off to Beira, to the city, and left the comfort and familiarity of the bush. We are dropped in the middle of the city, backpacks on our backs and left to wander in the streets. I wouldn't say that Beira has anything appealing but the it's interesting just to drift along the streets. The city is not clean, and the lack of adequate infra-structures is evident everywhere The trash-bins that there aren't anywhere, the roads full of potholes, sometimes turning in a pothole with a road on it. Or a road running through a sector where plenty of business companies have their warehouses that becomes useless when it rains, and where cars won't go, and buses and trucks can get stuck.

We go about looking curious at everything, pretty much trying to feel the pace of it, the rhythms of people. 

We walk to the main squares, the main avenues, dodging street vendors, stalls selling everything, and kids suggesting we buy SIM cards, or purchase credit tickets for mobiles. Leaving to some smaller side streets, less busy, where it's possible to appreciate the style, and state, of the buildings. Buildings usually not well kept, not unusually abandoned and crumbling. Buildings showing the presence of the Portuguese ruling in the design of buildings and houses.

We enter look the windows shops, smile the at colourful adverts and funny shop names. We enter some of the shops to check what's fashion around here, eventually in search of a good deal. We enter the central market, a small two-level building, food on the lower one, spices and all sort of local souvenirs for tourists at the top.

We stop on a local eatery for a quick snack and heading across the city again towards the sea front, motion towards the flat we will be staying. Some 6km on foot, carrying bags on our bags we decide to take a motorcycle-taxi (I'll dig the actual designation of it later!).
The day was hot, we sweat and we are getting tired. It leave us at Clube Nautico, a fancy pub by the beach ideal to have a drink in the afternoon sun, and I'd say watching the sun setting but it does so the other direction instead.

Next morning, early in the morning, we leave home to get a chapa (the local mini-bus) aiming to reach Savane, a little isolated beach at the mouth of river Savane. The guys driving a chapa between the city centre and the airport sense a opportunity for business when we ask direction, and we end up having an exclusive ride (i.e. the route centre-aiport can wait for 30minutes) to the suburb neighbourhood of Manga, where we'll get a second chapa to Savane. 

Time of departure: whenever the car is full to the top with people and luggage and goods and whatever people have to carry.

We are privileged, and are crammed with the driver and another passanger in the cab of the van.

After 90minutes of bumps and potholes, and 3 changes of position on the 40cm of seat I had we reach the end of the road, where we take a boat to Savane beach.

Savene is a stretch of sand at the mouth Savane. River on one side, sea at the other, about 200metres of sand in between. At tourist camp, with a few simple houses, huts and camping space at it's end, and a fishermen village a few kilometres upstream.

There's not much to do, there's not many tourist. In fact, we were the only ones there, though the waiter at the bar tell us that other clients are expect that very afternoon. We'll never see them, we'll never have a sign of their presence. Might be that they were really shy and quiet. We walk the beach, lay down on it catching some sun, reading or sleeping. We run to the water and jump on it to swim the waves of the Indian ocean. Then we go back, as we have to order our meals until 5pm even if dinner is just server by 7.30pm. Go figure. Anyway, since I've to wait I may as well have a drink, sit reading and looking the sun set on the opposite side of the river. Not bad, I reckon.

A decision is taken, next morning we'll get up to see the sun rise and then cross the river back to catch the chapa back into Beira at 8am. The clouds did not collaborate to get a spectacular sun rise, but we managed to get transport all the way to the centre of Beira and did not have to wait endlessly for it!

Back in Beira a second breakfast await us in the nice Riviera Café, and a second round of city wandering is ahead of us.

Another night in Beira and today we are now back in Gorongosa.

Chitengo

Chitengo is our small little village, if I can call it that, and it's a fenced camp that serves as headquarters for the Gorongosa National Park. It's a community with three different, but connected, communities.

There're are the rangers whose main functions are to detect poachers, or the snares they leave out, in an attempt to eliminate illegal hunting of wild animals, and also look for illegal loggers. When they "need" a light day in the field they come with the scientists to keep an eye on the wild beast that may try something unpleasant if we inadvertently get too close. 

You never know when a sneaky little fellow like the one bellow may try to have a taste of your leg (though we apparently aren't fleshy enough for their taste, I've heard).

 

We also have the restoration project team, which is composed of a number of resident scientists, both from Mozambique and abroad, mainly form the USA, and visiting researchers like the Coimbra team in which I'm included. Scientific facilities were inaugurated not long ago, with the mighty E. O. Wilson blessing the lab and putting is name on it. These include a few lab and office spaces, shared by the lion people, ungulate people, bat girl, plant people, and ourselves, the seed dispersal (or poop) people.

Several bungalows for accommodate all of us comfy enough to face days of hard work (I can see the derisive grin of hardcore fieldworks in the middle of nowhere camping and going some other hardships), and a tent-kitchen, which was raided by baboons a few days ago making casualties among food items we all keep there.

Finally we have the tourist side of this place with a team that receives "civilians" who come to spend some time peaceful resting time, and taking the chance to go on a safari to see the wildlife that this area has to offer. In fact this is very convenient for everyone as we all can have access to the restaurant and bar (important in times of football world cup), and a little souvenir shop where a postcard can be bought, along with some other merchandise from the park, and sent to the world out there (once we have the opportunity to go to Chimoio or Beira., Chimoio being the closest and at 2 hours-drive distance from Chitengo). 

Fed upon

And so, the first thing that tried to feed on me, and succeeding, was a tick. A bloody disgusting tick. There she was sucking on my hip. And how fat she was. Oh well... So far no signs of any nasty pestilence, but keeping an eye on the Doxycycline stock.

Arrivals

After a long journey over night from Europe across Africa by plan, with a short hop to Johannesburg, I got out of our plane in Beira. The air is dry and warm, but surprisingly (or perhaps I was misinformed) not hot.
Going through immigration and costumes was fairly quick and straight forward, and the van that would take the group to Gorongosa was already awaiting for the 3h30m plus through potholes. In such conditions, though the law requires to drive on the left this becomes optional.

Leaving Beira and driving through its suburbs, if can call it that, is not a beauty of landscape. You see the lack of conditions, the toughness of the life of people that you and I cannot imagine. Crumbling buildings, house badly finished, huts that are not more than sheds. And lots of people walking the streets carrying goods on their heads, on their backs.

Chitengo, the small community where the Gorongosa National Park's headquarters and the restoration team lives, welcomed us early in the evening, and the local team showed us around the basics, i.e. rooms and restaurant.

After a week in here, adaptation to this new place, with its distinctive rhythms and people, it's under way. Haven't been eaten by anything nor bitten by nasty bugs. So far none of those troubles that often affect travellers fell upon. Which I reckon is good!

Might pack a waterproof backpack cover. Just in case...

Getting closer

Gorongosa is getting closer and closer. Everything is pretty much ready, and only a few details are not as we would like. Stuff like I don't have a visa from the whole time I'm supposed to be there, and I travelling only with 2 of 3 shots against rabies I should have had. So, minor things! Hopefully I'll be able sort this out once I'm there.

A week from now our team from Coimbra will be out and about searching for mammals and birds poop (what a glamorous job description!). It's an exciting opportunity to work in such an iconic place and I'm looking forward to see what we'll encounter over there.

Trial!

Landing from a dead end drift.

One-two. One-two-three. Check-check-sound!