It is a strange feeling when you are not welcome in one country and basically an illegal in the other!
This happened to Marc and I on Sunday.
We were taken to the Machipanda border post by Elezeu and stamped ourselves out of Mozambique. Confidently we walked across the river into Zimbabwe. We had the idea of getting stamped walking around the boom and if denied exit, walking into Mutare and staying with friends of Frikkie and Juanita’s.
Game plan felt good, but we were making a serious school boy error.
We started filling out the forms at the entry desk and then we realised that we were in shit. No address of a contact in Zimbabwe, no idea of how many days in the country. You can’t just go in without a clue. We were about to wing it when the lady at the desk got involved.
“You have no contact.”
“You are using us to stay in Mozambique.”
“I will not let you enter Zimbabwe.”, she barked over to us with her eyes gazing over her spectacles.
We tried to plead our case that we were going over for two nights and staying in Mutare. Even went as far as telling her that we would phone and wait for our people to arrive.
Not a chance. She was not going to let us enter Zim. The only thing that might of swung her around was cash, since she kept on asking how much money we had available.
Not giving into bribery, probably because its illegal and we can’t afford it, we walked back to the Mozambique side.
We phoned the de Jagers from no-mans land and asked for advice. They advised us to rather try on the Mozambique side, they would be more compassionate.
Elezeu met us and explained our case to the officers. They started talking money and we stepped up the ante by going to the top brass for advice.
He came out checked us out and canceled our exit stamps, advised us to go straight to the Immigration offices in Chimoio. No money goes in without a receipt he warned us. Advice taken and still stressed about an expired visa scenario, we drove back to Villa Maninga. Marc and I discussed the fact that we were unprepared for that border and admitting that we should of known that you can’t wing an international border ,even if its Zimbabwe.
The following day at Immigration was not as easy as we thought.
At first we were told we had to go back to Machipanda border and exit to get another visa.
This was not going to happen.
Then we remembered a name from Vilanculos. The lady at the airport said we must see Mr Chumbe if we did not make it to Chimoio before our visas expired.
We asked for Mr Chumbe. Eyes widened and we were sent upstairs.
He was busy, so we made an appointment.
After lunch at two o’clock. Good stuff, we could go have lunch.
Our meeting with Mr Chumbe, the Governor Official of Immigration in the Manica Province, was brief. He had been waiting to meet us and asked how the cycling was going. He only expected us after the 20th of May.
It was strange how efficiently everything ran once he spoke.
“Ask for your receipt.”,were Mr Chumbe’s last words after he bid us farewell and blessed our journey. It might of cost a little more to go through immigration, but it was legal with no underhanded dealings.
After paying our 450Mts, receiving our receipt and that ever so beautiful 30day extension stamp, we were back on track. Well, almost, we still had bikes to tinker with and after 3000kilometers there is bound to be some hiccup.
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