Wimbe Beach, Mozambique

After spending a day wandering the nearly deserted, old streets of Ilha de Mocambique's Stonetown, we had had enough of the strangely quiet, ghost town feel of the old Portugese capital. The gradeur architecture of the once bustling city has been left to deteriorate, falling victim to the satly air and a lack of enterprise. Enormous cathedrals and mansions, forts and statues of Portugese settlers make for beautiful phots, but the lack of things to do and the strange lifeless quality of the place sent us on our way just 24 hours after arriving. With a lack of the white sandy beaches we had been craving, Kate and I set off early yesterday morning for Pemba, a town 7 hours norht and infamous for it's glittering beaches, calm turquoise waters, and picture-perfect tropical allure.
We arrived in Pemba by late afternoon and upon befriending an Italian in town, caught a lift out to Russell's Place, a South African owned camp just across the street from the beach. Turns out we arrived just in time for the celbration of a few birthdays that we being honored with the hosting of a costume party. Huck Finn, a sheriff, a toilet seat, Jane Fonda, and a member of the Fallopian Swim Team, were just a few of the outrageous characters who made the evening memorable. We somehow managed to get all of our drinks bought for us last night, a huge feat considering a cocktail here cost nearly $5! The drunk, meathead of a DJ played terrible music, but for a bystander his music selection made for some gutteral laughing fits as we watcghed people attempt to find the rythym. Most of the party attendees were white South Africans who live here permanently, a tight community that live in a warped reality of Arifkaan's culture, money, and alcohol. All night I felt as though I'd been granted access into the real world of Afrikaaners, like I was watching something that few people actually ever get to see. It was wierd...that's all I can really say about it!