You do go on a bit…

I have a friend who can be a nag.

Look in the mirror I hear you think.

Still, this guy is something else. If he gets an idea in his head, it becomes fixed… and good Lord he can go on about it.

One of the awesome things in Mozambique is the bread. Particularly the bread rolls. Pão (along with vinho), is one of the few Portuguese words I have learnt. Survival I call it.

The bread is not made with preservatives, so it doesn’t last too long. It doesn’t need to, it’s necessary to eat it immediately. It’s not at all good for you of course, but who cares!

At one point I planned to go on a road trip with a friend (not the nagger), and stay at a coastal resort in central Mozambique. My nagger friend is full of advice. One of his pearls was that under no circumstances should we eat bread as padkos along the route. (Everywhere you go in Mozambique takes an age because the roads are mostly dreadful and there are many police stops along the way asking for refresco). Padkos is necessary.

Eating bread along the way will make you apathetic he implored, you need to eat stuff like nuts and fruit and drink lots of water. You need to stay alert, it’s a long way and the roads are so bad.

I relayed this input to my travel buddy and she immediately objected. But Rosie, she said, you make the most awesome rolls, I was looking forward to our padkos. This is true. I have few (zero), culinary skills, but I do make a good sandwich.

I know, I said, we just mustn’t tell him.

What if he comes to check before we leave she wailed. I know I said, there is a good chance of this, we will have to hide the rolls and show him the bloody nuts and shit.

The other irritating thing this dear friend does is call me constantly. Mainly because he knows I hate it. So, it did not end when we managed to leave and get on the road, our bread rolls safely on board, he phoned constantly to check how we were doing and what we were eating.

The other thing you need if you ever travel in Mozambique, is a strong bladder. This was prior to my she-wee days. I’m not really sure a she-wee is something one can share with a friend? Any input on this matter is appreciated.

Anyway, we didn’t have the benefit of even considering a she-wee to share and it became a crisis.

We knew of a place, you may know it…. Buffalo Lodge…. a great place to stop for coffee and a well deserved ablute.

We were desperate… desperate…. finding Buffalo Lodge was critical.

My friend phoned (again)…. how’s it going, what are you eating…..?

For the love of…..

I saw the sign to turn off and yelled and pointed Buffalo, Buffalo! If we had missed the turning it would have been the end of any dignity we were barely hanging onto.

Buffalo… I heard him say in the distance as I threw my phone down… well, I suppose that’s good, but buffalo?