A couple of weeks ago Andy and his friend KK went to Marracuene for a day of motorcycle riding, something they used to do almost every week and now it’s monthly or even less. He returned like a defeated warrior.
“Is there a war going on in Marracuene that we should know about?” I asked looking at his dirty clothes and face.
“The ferryboat was out of order and we had to cross the river on very small boats with the motorcycles, a risk we didn’t expect!”
“What about the cars? How can they cross to this side?” I wanted to know.
“They don’t. They stay on the other side until the ferry is repaired” he explained.
“But this can take hours or days and the conditions on the other side are very precarious!” I exclaimed in dismay.
“That’s the fun of doing this. We never know what’s going to happen!” Andy concluded.
Knowing about the lack of food and accommodation, plus the exposition to mosquitos, next time we visit Marracuene I shall have a chill until we cross back to this side.