It’s hot, peri-peri hot

‘Found it,’ I texted my son in his wintry boarding house in Cape Town. Bemused by why I didn’t let him skip the end of mid-year exams and join me on a 12-day trip to Mozambique, Tom had issued this parting instruction: ‘Well then, Mom, find us a perfect place for our next family holiday, near a surf break with lots of space for friends.’

I was standing on the balcony of Casa Malcampo’s main house when I sent the message. A balmy evening breeze rustled the palms, while I looked over a headland to the beach. Renowned Tofinho surf point lay just around the corner. It was the perfect spot for a frosty Dois M after a long drive.

There are few short road hops in Mozambique. Long ones become very long ones due to crawling traffic in towns and getting lost among stately palms on seaward tracks. Our long hop had started two days earlier in Joburg, when Getaway colleague Gabby Jacobs and I had piled our sarongs, snorkelling gear and mozzie repellent into an Isuzu D-Max crew cab and set the on-board sat-nav for Komatipoort.

I was last in Mozambique 12 years ago, and plenty has changed. Our eastern neighbour is now red – not (traffic police) smiled and waved our bakkie through every checkpoint.