The boat captain pointed into the flat, clear, turquoise water. I caught a glimpse of dolphin fin a couple of hundred meters away.
“Let’s swim with them,” said Theresa. She flung off her sarong and dove over the side of the boat. Pippa, Bridget, and Sandi followed in quick succession. Theresa took several strokes and then turned around.
“Aren’t you coming, Heather?” I looked over at the captain. He was staring into the distance and seemed hardly to have noticed the boat’s deserters.
I shrugged, pulled off my shorts and tank top, and jumped.
Our gang walking out to the boat that would take us on a day trip from Bazaruto to Paradise Island, not long before the moment described above.
We never caught up with the dolphins. We didn’t swim very fast and the dolphin pod was probably frightened by all the estrogen. But that didn’t matter. Over the course of three days, our group of ladies managed to:
- Sled down a sand dune in the midst of a sunset sandstorm;
- Explore the ruins of an abandoned beach hotel;
- Ride a pack of lazy horses up and down a pristine, white-sand beach;
- Spend many hours doing nothing, gazing out at the sea;
- Drink dozens, maybe hundreds, of caipirinhas;
- Rub mud all over each other while sitting naked in a sauna (seriously); and
- Eat far too much of everything.
The Anantara Bazaruto Island Resort and Spa, my home for three days last weekend.
Every now and again, my blogging credentials get me invited on a media trip to a fabulous African destination. (The long-time readers among you might remember the post about my Luxury Weekend in the Waterberg, alternatively named “I Am So F-ing Lucky”.) I’ve learned that when such an invitation appears in my inbox it’s best to accept immediately, which is what I did when I received Theresa’s invitation for a weekend at the Anantara Bazaruto Island Resort and Spa.
Theresa’s trips are always incredibly fun, not just because of the amazing destinations but also because of the amazing, crazy women Theresa brings together.
A group of serious journalists, “working hard” in Mozambique.
Bazaruto is off the coast of central Mozambique, near to the town of Vilankulos. We flew into Vilankulos direct from Joburg (our flights were courtesy of Airlink) on a Friday afternoon, and hopped a 45-minute boat shuttle to Bazaruto.
Our boat shuttle from Vilankulos to Bazaruto. (Just kidding. Our real boat was just out of the frame but this one was prettier.)
My photos tell the story from here on.
The inside of my luxurious bungalow at Anantara, about 50 meters from the beach.
My first meal at Anantara: grilled tuna with rice and vegetables.
The wild beach at Paradise Island, which used to be called Santa Carolina Island. We spent a day at Paradise, swimming and eating and walking around. Exploring this island was my favorite part of the trip.
The view from Anantara Spa, which is on a seaside cliff overlooking the rest of the resort. I don’t have any pictures of us naked in the sauna. (I actually did try but my lens fogged up.) We also hung out in the jacuzzi and had fantastic massages.
The Holy Lad, my steed for the horseriding outing.
Lesley and I astride our steeds. Photo taken by our lovely horse-riding guide, whose name I forgot to record.
The Holy Lad was so laid-back that I could take photos quite easily while riding him.
Massive sand dunes occupy a large portion of Bazaruto. On our last evening we drove to the dunes (about 15 minutes from the resort) and did some dune-boarding. The view was jaw-dropping and the dune-boarding was a blast, despite high winds whipping sand into our eyes. (Photo: Sandi Caganoff)
This was fun. (Photo: Sandi Caganoff)
On Monday we (grudgingly) waded out to the boat shuttle, rode to Vilankulos, and flew home. The end.
A few words about Anantara. This is a very high-end resort and staying there is the utmost luxury. Every need is taken care of before you even think of it. The resort grounds are lush, beautiful, and understated. Drinks and all the food you can possibly eat are included in the cost of your stay.
The worst thing to happen to me over the course of the weekend was having to wait a bit too long for my fancy cocktail to be served. And sitting on that beach, with my toes in the silken white sand, watching the sunset over the impossibly blue water, was perfect.
That said, Anantara is part of a big international resort chain and virtually everything is imported from South Africa and other far-away places. The cost of staying there is very, very steep: $590 (about R6500) per person, per night. This is more than my monthly rent in Joburg. I could never afford to stay at Anantara if I weren’t so f-ing lucky.
Other than the price, my only complaint about Anantara is the excessive opulence and abundance of the food. The breakfast and dinner buffets were so massive that I struggled to decide what to eat, and actually I would have been happy with a platter of grilled calamari and glass of vinho verde for every single meal. In fact my favorite meal was lunch, which was simple and chosen from a small, a la carte menu.
Less is more sometimes, and at Anantara I would have preferred a bit less. But, hey. I should really just shut up because this view is hard to complain about.
Sunset on Bazaruto. It doesn’t suck.
Stay tuned for a follow-up post about the abandoned Santa Carolina Hotel on Paradise Island.