Oct 16 2012 Zinave National Park: oblivion

• Zinave

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_00431.jpg

  The road to Mabote is red. Clay skating on our 4x4 blind curves of a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing.

• Zinave

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_00501.jpg

  The road to Mabote is red. Clay skating on our 4x4 blind curves of a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing.

• Zinave

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_0027.jpg

  The road to Mabote is red. Clay skating on our 4x4 blind curves of a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing.

• Zinave

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_00121.jpg

  The road to Mabote is red. Clay skating on our 4x4 blind curves of a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing.

• Zinave

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_00241.jpg

  The road to Mabote is red. Clay skating on our 4x4 blind curves of a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing.

• Zinave

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/a6.jpg

  The road to Mabote is red. Clay skating on our 4x4 blind curves of a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing.

The road to Mabote is red. Clay on our 4-skating×4 blind curves in a road that goes into oblivion. Each meter seems the world, my world, spectra rubs and shadows. Nothing. A few towns with a few huts and vegetation so thick that engulfs the light to the sides. There is nothing other than follow and nothing to justify it. I sense I'm going to a park into disuse with the question of whether I will be the "first" or "last" in discovering. I head to the National Park Zinave unknown, a Mozambique.

Hasta Mabote only we crossed with lifestyle. In small villages we passed the eyes of the people they are surprised that something happens in front of your eyes. Some children run beside the car and call us "mlungus". In the distance you see women carrying water and firewood. Nothing. There is nothing more.

In small villages we passed the eyes of the people they are surprised that something happens in front of your eyes

No food we, forget it, so chew biscuits Joseph and Antonio, Portuguese friends to share them with route, had the foresight to bring. The road is long until we reached Mabote, maintained an amazing city, cleaning, that a dispensary, gas station, schools, filled, bars ... "How can you be such a city in a place like?”, I.

There we see a sign indicating missing 91 km, and we 170 km from Vilanculos, Zinave National Park. We took a narrow road that turns off to the left and we move into the vacuum of the jungle. The road is more uncomfortable, but better than expected. The car goes to a mean of 50 km per hour. It starts to drizzle. We again through some small town. Reed huts are scattered in a strict order. Where there is no vegetation homes. Rather, vegetation amid that are some houses.

Where there is no vegetation homes. Rather, vegetation amid that are some houses

Eventually we reached a door almost abandoned input makes. A man and a woman come off the floor of a hut and approach. She has her hair full of flies and face cheerful. "You have to pay 200 meticais per person 200 by car ", explains. "What animals are?”, asked. He hesitates and parsimony with which clarifies Mozambicans answer: "Now, giraffe .... and so on " (In so, with which we were dying of laughter, includes everything that moves and not wildebeest and giraffe. African Practicality). She picks up the word: "If you want to see animals have to go to the shrine, also have to pay ". By now we understand that any doubt she meets will cost.

We entered Zinave. Soon we realize that the park is almost deserted. The first 30 km, to a lodge that advertise on the road, see some monkeys and some impala. The trees are put up in packs on each other. We finally reached camp puts a signal. We crossed the gate and found some houses and shops where there are numerous rangers. We explain that they are telling the animal population and that the Government has a plan to repopulate the area wildlife.

In a large tent get a white boy, young, with a tired smile

In a large tent get a white boy, young, with a tired smile. Is Antonio, an Italian who is doing a thesis university Zinave. Tourist tries to give meaning to a protected natural extension 40.000 hectares. Soon we will arrange a visit to the shrine with Ricardo, of a park ranger. The two up to our vehicle. Before, paid another 450 meticais to the erasure.

We crossed the valley that divides the sanctuary electrified outside. "There 4 Giraffes, 60 zebras and wildebeest hundreds who came from South Africa. There is also a buffalo that was here when we locked fence and now can not get out ", Ricardo tells. We started doing miles and not see a single animal. "To see if you've left the door open?”, asked an enthusiastic Ricardo who always answers "no animals here muiiiiiitos", complicated undeterred by the fact that more than an hour we wandered into an area forbidden and we have not seen any. "There are trees behind zebras", announces our ranger with aplomb. We see thousands of branches and leaves.

"Every day I tengo get me to worry about food. There is nothing "

The Italian as I said you can not do anything. It does not have the driver promised, or computer, and the car, or maps. "Every day I tengo get me to worry about food. There is nothing ", I explained. It says anxiously, but with the disappointment of that will not understand what you came to do. "The park is very nice, but do not know how to sell ", confesses just as he currency in the giraffes. Four, young, we are paralyzed by our presence. When we try to approach the dense vegetation fleeing.

We decided then to see the lodge. It is closed. I guess waiting for people and animals, I do not know in what order. There are four wooden bungalows overlooking a river. The site is nice, the houses are new, but are beginning to look old. There is also a restaurant overlooking the flow in which Antonio sleeps in a tent. Some kids-people live within the park- walk the waters. "They should not do, they can attack a crocodile. Never ignore us and then come the problems ", me says Ricardo. Everything is there and there is nothing. It's a weird feeling.

We will of Zinave. Just then two men detained bring those who have been caught doing illegal logging. I say goodbye to Antonio with a certain penalty. I see him going to the store with the feeling of leaving it abandoned in the middle of the place lost. Park is not a place to bring tourists even as I had devised. Maybe in two years or in five it is, perhaps never will be. "Back in time", I think as a downpour that we not let me see the road. We may have been the first years or the last tourists of this place.