10) Paradise???
In April 1967 our friends Dot and Buck Jones, who lived across the road from us told us that they were going on holiday and asked us to go with them. They had booked a week at “Paradise Island” which was the marketing name for Santa Carolina, a small coral island off the coast of Mozambique. It sounded wonderful so we decided to join them. The plan was that both families would drive to Salisbury in Southern Rhodesia separately and meet there for the flight to Mozambique and then to go by ferry to the island. As the Jones’ had to collect their eldest son Howard from school there they left before us.
We had an uneventful trip to Salisbury and I only remember one incident. We stopped the car for something along the way and it would not start again, Jonny asked me to drive while he pushed the car. He pushed and pushed and pushed but it would not start. Very frustrated he came and looked to see what the matter was only to find that I had not switch the engine on, any wonder it would not start. Once he sorted that out, one little push got us going again. I would not have blamed him if he had left me behind.
I remember the feeling that I got when we arrived in Southern Rhodesia; I felt that I had come home. If I was a believer in reincarnation I would have believed that I had lived there in a previous life, and been very happy there. The average rainfall in Southern Rhodesia was less than in its northern neighbour so the bush tended not to be as thick and lush as Zambia but I just loved that lovely brownish countryside with its flat topped thorn trees and many balancing rocks. Salisbury just had a very special feeling for me. I knew I would love to live there. It had wide handsome streets, beautiful modern buildings and well maintained parks and gardens. The people were friendly and happy, everyone seemed to smile and was willing to help, the shops were full of wonderful goods that we did not see in Zambia and I was willing to believe that we had already arrived in “Paradise”.
After a day or two we met up with the Jones and flew to Vilanculos where we were to catch the ferry to the island. Vilanculos was a very small town with an appropriate sized airport; I don’t suppose they had more than one or two commercial flights in and out each day. Our plane arrived at just before 1 o’clock; we all disembarked and trooped into the airport buildings to go through customs and immigration. We waited and we waited eventually we were told that the customs and immigration officials had gone to lunch and would be back in an hour. They must surely have known that a plane was expected and still they had gone to lunch. Mozambique at that time was a Portuguese colony and was run with a very Portuguese outlook; Amanhã (tomorrow) was good enough for everything. There was not a lot we could do so the hundred or so passengers just sat around in the hot terminal and complained. Eventually after what seemed like an age the officials came back and took up their positions at their desks to process us all. We stood in orderly queues and waited our turn. Things were moving very slowly, eventually one of the passengers realised that part of the problem was that between the two of them there was only one pen. So first the customs officer would do his paper work then he would hand the pen to the immigrations officer who would do what he had to do then the pen was handed back to allow the customs officer to start on the next passenger. One very irate gentleman said “For goodness sake, take my pen and lets get this queue moving a bit quicker” The two officials were very tickled at what seemed to be the novelty of having two pens and laughed and chatted away as they continued to do their job.
We were due to get a ferry to take us to the island but I don’t think it was to leave until about 4 o’clock and we were directed to the Vilanculos Hotel where we were told we could have lunch. I have never seen such a terrible place, it was filthy and I know that Dot and I could not eat anything. I am not sure if Jonny did but I do remember that Buck had something because I remember he put some chilli sauce on it. He was used to the chilli sauce that was available in Rhodesia and this was much hotter and he nearly blew the top of his head off. One could almost see steam coming out of his ears but he said it was great. We took a bit of a walk around the town and we saw the New Vilanculos Hotel; it had been built a few years before but it had never been quite finished. We were told that they planned to open it “Next year” but they had been planning to open it “Next year” for many years. The story was that on the first year they had planned to open it they found that they had not bought some vital item such as linen so they delayed the opening by twelve months. The next year someone realised just before opening time that there was some other missing item and the next year they found that there was yet another so it was delayed once again. I don’t know how true that is but one can imagine it happening there. It was large and modern and clean but unfinished and so it had never been opened and we had to put up with that terrible old dirty place.
By the time we were to board the ferry we were feeling very despondent, we were sure that the island we were going to would be even worse than this and how on earth were we going to manage a whole week there, we had no way of leaving and we did not think we would be able to eat anything for the whole week. The ferry was also a big disappointment, it was a smelly, noisy old tub that chugged along slowly and so took ages to get to the island. But when we landed on Paradise Island everything changed. It was wonderful. The hotel there was beautifully clean, the food was good we had lovely fresh fish with every meal. Our accommodation was bright and modern, little chalets set amongst the coconut palms, was a wonderful surprise. The whole island was taken up by the holiday resort so there was a wonderful relaxed atmosphere there, there were no newspapers, the one clock had stopped and the only radio with which we were supposed to keep contact with the outside world was tuned in to a Mozambique Pop music station and carried around on the shoulder of a young black boy all the time. No one was rushed but everything was well maintained and we should have had a terrific holiday, in fact we almost had a terrific holiday except for the fact that Jonathan got very sick. We had been warned that the tap water was not fit to drink and that we should only drink boiled water. There were bottles of “boiled” water in all the rooms and that is all we used, even to brush our teeth but I suppose that one of the bottles had not been boiled properly and so Jonathan got very sick. Poor little lad, during our second night there he had the most awful vomiting and diarrhoea.
There was a clinic on the island, it was run by nurses who came mostly from Salisbury for two weeks, they ran the clinic for one week and then got one week’s holiday. We asked them to look at Jonathan and when they saw how sick he was they asked two of the other holidaymakers to look at him. The two holiday makers were a husband and wife team who were both doctors, they had been coming to Paradise Island since their children were very small and they knew the dangers of the water so they always came prepared. They gave Jonathan a course of injections and we are sure that this saved his life. They also told us not to trust the water in the bottles in our room and only to drink water that we had boiled ourselves or sealed cool drinks. They told us that a good treatment for an upset stomach is flat Coca Cola, and we always used this remedy for our kids after that.
We had arrived on the island on Sunday evening Jonathan got sick on Monday night and was sick Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday but was a little better on the Friday and so I was able to take him to the beach then but we were due to leave for mainland again on Sunday. It was very good that he was so much better. Jonny managed to do a little fishing and snorkelling but we had liked the island so much that we promised ourselves that we would go back one day when Jonathan was older. Unfortunately we never did keep that promise.
We had an uneventful trip to Salisbury and I only remember one incident. We stopped the car for something along the way and it would not start again, Jonny asked me to drive while he pushed the car. He pushed and pushed and pushed but it would not start. Very frustrated he came and looked to see what the matter was only to find that I had not switch the engine on, any wonder it would not start. Once he sorted that out, one little push got us going again. I would not have blamed him if he had left me behind.
I remember the feeling that I got when we arrived in Southern Rhodesia; I felt that I had come home. If I was a believer in reincarnation I would have believed that I had lived there in a previous life, and been very happy there. The average rainfall in Southern Rhodesia was less than in its northern neighbour so the bush tended not to be as thick and lush as Zambia but I just loved that lovely brownish countryside with its flat topped thorn trees and many balancing rocks. Salisbury just had a very special feeling for me. I knew I would love to live there. It had wide handsome streets, beautiful modern buildings and well maintained parks and gardens. The people were friendly and happy, everyone seemed to smile and was willing to help, the shops were full of wonderful goods that we did not see in Zambia and I was willing to believe that we had already arrived in “Paradise”.
After a day or two we met up with the Jones and flew to Vilanculos where we were to catch the ferry to the island. Vilanculos was a very small town with an appropriate sized airport; I don’t suppose they had more than one or two commercial flights in and out each day. Our plane arrived at just before 1 o’clock; we all disembarked and trooped into the airport buildings to go through customs and immigration. We waited and we waited eventually we were told that the customs and immigration officials had gone to lunch and would be back in an hour. They must surely have known that a plane was expected and still they had gone to lunch. Mozambique at that time was a Portuguese colony and was run with a very Portuguese outlook; Amanhã (tomorrow) was good enough for everything. There was not a lot we could do so the hundred or so passengers just sat around in the hot terminal and complained. Eventually after what seemed like an age the officials came back and took up their positions at their desks to process us all. We stood in orderly queues and waited our turn. Things were moving very slowly, eventually one of the passengers realised that part of the problem was that between the two of them there was only one pen. So first the customs officer would do his paper work then he would hand the pen to the immigrations officer who would do what he had to do then the pen was handed back to allow the customs officer to start on the next passenger. One very irate gentleman said “For goodness sake, take my pen and lets get this queue moving a bit quicker” The two officials were very tickled at what seemed to be the novelty of having two pens and laughed and chatted away as they continued to do their job.
We were due to get a ferry to take us to the island but I don’t think it was to leave until about 4 o’clock and we were directed to the Vilanculos Hotel where we were told we could have lunch. I have never seen such a terrible place, it was filthy and I know that Dot and I could not eat anything. I am not sure if Jonny did but I do remember that Buck had something because I remember he put some chilli sauce on it. He was used to the chilli sauce that was available in Rhodesia and this was much hotter and he nearly blew the top of his head off. One could almost see steam coming out of his ears but he said it was great. We took a bit of a walk around the town and we saw the New Vilanculos Hotel; it had been built a few years before but it had never been quite finished. We were told that they planned to open it “Next year” but they had been planning to open it “Next year” for many years. The story was that on the first year they had planned to open it they found that they had not bought some vital item such as linen so they delayed the opening by twelve months. The next year someone realised just before opening time that there was some other missing item and the next year they found that there was yet another so it was delayed once again. I don’t know how true that is but one can imagine it happening there. It was large and modern and clean but unfinished and so it had never been opened and we had to put up with that terrible old dirty place.
By the time we were to board the ferry we were feeling very despondent, we were sure that the island we were going to would be even worse than this and how on earth were we going to manage a whole week there, we had no way of leaving and we did not think we would be able to eat anything for the whole week. The ferry was also a big disappointment, it was a smelly, noisy old tub that chugged along slowly and so took ages to get to the island. But when we landed on Paradise Island everything changed. It was wonderful. The hotel there was beautifully clean, the food was good we had lovely fresh fish with every meal. Our accommodation was bright and modern, little chalets set amongst the coconut palms, was a wonderful surprise. The whole island was taken up by the holiday resort so there was a wonderful relaxed atmosphere there, there were no newspapers, the one clock had stopped and the only radio with which we were supposed to keep contact with the outside world was tuned in to a Mozambique Pop music station and carried around on the shoulder of a young black boy all the time. No one was rushed but everything was well maintained and we should have had a terrific holiday, in fact we almost had a terrific holiday except for the fact that Jonathan got very sick. We had been warned that the tap water was not fit to drink and that we should only drink boiled water. There were bottles of “boiled” water in all the rooms and that is all we used, even to brush our teeth but I suppose that one of the bottles had not been boiled properly and so Jonathan got very sick. Poor little lad, during our second night there he had the most awful vomiting and diarrhoea.
There was a clinic on the island, it was run by nurses who came mostly from Salisbury for two weeks, they ran the clinic for one week and then got one week’s holiday. We asked them to look at Jonathan and when they saw how sick he was they asked two of the other holidaymakers to look at him. The two holiday makers were a husband and wife team who were both doctors, they had been coming to Paradise Island since their children were very small and they knew the dangers of the water so they always came prepared. They gave Jonathan a course of injections and we are sure that this saved his life. They also told us not to trust the water in the bottles in our room and only to drink water that we had boiled ourselves or sealed cool drinks. They told us that a good treatment for an upset stomach is flat Coca Cola, and we always used this remedy for our kids after that.
We had arrived on the island on Sunday evening Jonathan got sick on Monday night and was sick Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday but was a little better on the Friday and so I was able to take him to the beach then but we were due to leave for mainland again on Sunday. It was very good that he was so much better. Jonny managed to do a little fishing and snorkelling but we had liked the island so much that we promised ourselves that we would go back one day when Jonathan was older. Unfortunately we never did keep that promise.
posted by JC at
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