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Hakuna Matapa - means no worries when you've got matapa

I left Mozambique with tears in my eyes.

Sand in my hair that I didn’t want to wash out because I was not ready to let go.

No more tropical gangsters.

No more matapa – the local food that will send you wild

No more tipo tinto – the local rum that may or may not be ethanol and you can buy for 60 mets (2USD) per bottle

No more palm trees

No more beach dogs

No more fish so fresh its practically still moving when you buy it

No more late night parties in tiny stores in the market with a bunch of blurry eyed locals

No more Portuguese

No more quad bikes

No more strange community of people who ditched the boring nature of the first world to lose themselves in paradise

No more denial of the real world

No more dodgy ferry rides to the city to buy the bare necessities

No more diet of onion, tomatoes, pizza and beer.

No more losing weight anyway because its so ridiculously hot.

No more losing hours, days, months to your own oblivion

No more grass huts.

It broke my heart.

But new adventure is on the horizon.

Capetown is fresh. fast. beautiful. hip. cool.

Everything I’m not.

But maybe can be.

Wish me luck.

Merry Christmas.

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