From Maputo, I decided to follow the tourist trail to the backpacker haven of Tofu, twenty minutes from Inhambane. The drive starts at the soon to become normal, but right now pretty shocking hour of 4 AM.
What can I say about the scenery? Coconut palms litter the landscape, with more hideous pawpaw tree's popping their heads up here and there, and the ubiquitous thatch huts. The scenery becomes repetitive quite quickly, when you realise that most of the country is totally flat, sandy and almost everywhere is inhabited. Everywhere you see the small trails leading off from the roadside, evidence of people, even when you think you must be in the middle of nowhere. Villagers walk in their flipflops and ride bicycles along the road, totally unfazed by the minibus taxi's, trucks and buses that come screaming past on the bone-jarring, massively potholed roads. Chickens, children and goats scratch, play and aimlessly wander along the roadside. Who gives a fuck if the nearest hospital is 200km and four hours away? We're in a hurry!
In Tofo, I met up with the pommies that I had befriended in Maputo, along with several other folk that were headed the same way. And so we found the Best Restaurant in the World: Black & White.
At Black & White, you will have what must be, for me, pretty much everything I want from a restaurant. From the exterior, the charm begins to reveal itself. The hand painted sign, on a bit of cardboard, at the entrance of a tin and wood shack describes the menu; a typical Mozambiquan menu. Fish, chicken, braws (prawns), biff (beef), calamari and rock lobster, all served with rice or chips and salad. This is the National Menu of Moz. If you have a problem with it, don't travel here.
As you walk through the door, you find yourself in the dining room. About four tables, enough for maybe fifteen people are coated in cheap plastic table cloths, and the floor is hard, grey concrete. The ambience comes courtesy of the twenty guys playing pool, and the open air bar next door that only has one CD with four songs on it, which it plays at maximum volume.
Cheap, fresh, delicious food, skillfully prepared by someone else. All the ingredients, except the rice, probably come from the surrounding areas. Decent service comes from an unpretentious, efficient and friendly waiter. Booze comes at cost price, and is always cold, and never runs out.
Sure, you might wait a little bit for your food. Forty five minutes wouldn't be unusual. But its not like you have anywhere to go, do you? Something to do? Pretty unlikely. And for 70 mts a plate of peixe, salad, com arros (fish salad and rice) what more could you want? The fish, often something incredibly delicious like barracuda or parrotfish (probably endangered, too) is grilled, and the rice is topped with a sort of tomatoey, seafood sauce. Succulent, fresh, cheap and beautiful.
The other best thing about B&W, is the kitchen. I had looked a bit into some kitchens in Maputo, admiring their spartan economy of equipment and space, but B&W is another level. The tiny, mostly open air area consists of a few coal burning stoves, a few enormous pots for rice, and a couple of other odds and ends. None of the shining stainless steel, the drama, the docket machines incessant screaming whine, the flames and the sweat of a professional kitchen. This is hardly recognisable as a kitchen. A few smiling women sit around peeling potatoes the African way, with a knife, and stirring massive cauldrons of mysterious bubbling liquids. There might be a fridge, but I dont think so, and there might be some soap somewhere, but thats also unlikely.
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