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After weeks cooped up on board the cargo ship, and the idyllic but simple landscape of the island’s white beaches and palm trees, Jane was experiencing sensory overload on mainland Mozambique.
She’d guessed her experience of Africa, if she had arrived as planned, would be limited to boardrooms, hotel beds and perhaps a trip to the top of Table Mountain. There was nothing familiar or reassuringly mundane about this vibrant country.
Colour. It was everywhere around her. The rich, vibrant greens of a lush vegetation thriving in the humid coastal climate; the multihued blues of the sky and water; the patchwork brilliance of street markets selling the ripest, reddest tomatoes she’d seen in her life; the garish prints and colours of men’s shirts and women’s wraps that would have been obsce
