After ten weeks of aggressive travel, I was ready to relax. I wanted sun, beach, and, well, the freedom to do absolutely nothing for a couple days. Sure, I hadn’t technically worked for a paycheck for a couple months, but I had pushed myself to new levels of adventure with minimal moments of respite. It was time for a (brief) break, and of course that break would require a bit of work to earn.

While I was trying to figure out the best places to go for a sunny trip near South Africa in May, my friend Johnny advised that the weather in Mozambique is consistently perfect. My first choice destination, &Beyond Benguerra Island, was unfortunately fully booked for the dates I had available, so I settled for Anantara Bazaruto Island. It was a bit of a trek (flight from Johannesburg to Vilanculos, overland transfer to the dock, followed by a water taxi to the island), but I was willing to put in the time for guaranteed sun.

Getting to Bazaruto Island

The scene at JNB was rather hectic with tourists waiting to board planes to regional destinations (Mozambique, Victoria Falls, etc.) I eventually got on a crowded bus with fellow Vilanculos-bound passengers. We stood for way too long in the heat, and I rolled my eyes as I listened to my fellow bus-mates recount the previous night. It soon became apparent that a number of these people were traveling together, and they were on a different mission than I was. “Remember when that song came on last night?!” “Oh my god, I’m so hungover.” “Are you ready for what’s going to happen when we get to the island??” I couldn’t wait to get far, far away from these people.

We finally boarded our small plane, and I was thankfully seated next to a quiet man that slept for most of the one and a half hour flight. I felt terrible for the flight attendant that had to service the group asking for another beer, another wine, actually two more wines, please?!

As we began our descent the man sitting next to me slowly woke up. The rest of the party group started berating him. “Dan, what happens when we land? What do we do next? How long until we get to the island?” I listened to Dan explain that after clearing immigration and customs, they’d have a short van transfer from the airport to their water taxi. Within 45 minutes they’d be on the island.

This series of logistical events sounded eerily similar to what I was expecting upon my arrival in Mozambique. Dismissing all niceties, I fixed my gaze on my seatmate whom I now knew was named Dan, thanks to his boisterous friends. Four simple words were all that was needed: “Where are you staying?”

Dan turned his head to look at me for the first time, not without a bit of confusion. Yes, Dan, a girl was sitting next to you.

“Anantara Bazaruto Island,” he finally admitted after realizing that he was stuck on a small plane headed for a small airport, where the likelihood of a repeat encounter with a fellow traveler was high.

My natural reaction was impossible to hide. Eyes wide, fake smile plastered on my face, I responded, “Oh really? Me too!”

Dan gazed back at me not without a bit of confusion. “Wait, are you traveling by yourself?” he asked me. Um, yes. “Were you expecting a calm, relaxing vacation on a peaceful island?” Um, yes, yes, yes. Fortunately, Dan was a reasonable guy, and he immediately took pity on me.

“Everyone! This girl Andrea is traveling on her own and she thought she would be having a relaxing trip to Mozambique until she met us and we ruined it for her. I’m giving her the liability release forms to sign now!”

Dan turned out to be a decent guy. He worked for British Airways, while the rest of the group worked for one of the largest travel agencies in the UK (the agency was his client). They were celebrating their annual President’s Club trip to reward their top performers with one night in Johannesburg, two nights on Bazaruto Island and a long flight back to the UK. I resigned myself to the fact that I’d be sharing my remote island time with a group of Brits keen to party, and decided to go along for the ride.

While the Vilanculos airport was small, the process upon arrival was a bit of a mess. Americans could obtain tourist visas to visit Mozambique in advance, but I had read that it was easier/cheaper to get a visa on arrival at most ports of entry (including Vilanculos). So, I waited in line, paid $50 in cash and frowned for my visa photo.

After finally clearing immigration and customs, we were greeted by the Anantara staff, who shepherded us into two different vehicles (the travel agency group in one, the rest of us in another). I chatted with an adorable Spanish couple on the drive to the water taxi; I felt more concerned for the prospects of their romantic island vacation amongst the crazy Brits than my own experience, but they seemed unconcerned and simply happy to be away in a beautiful part of the world.

First Afternoon/Evening at Anantara Bazaruto Island

A member of the Anantara staff found me as I waded through the warm Indian Ocean water to the beach, holding my long dress above my knees (they warned me in advance that I needed to be prepared to walk through knee-height water to get on/off the water taxi). He welcomed me, handed me a fruity drink and cold towel, and sat me down to complete the check-in process. I was delighted to learn that I had been upgraded to a beachfront pool suite on the far edge of the resort, likely in an effort to keep me happy and isolated from the raging group of partiers.

I of course immediately changed into my swimsuit and settled in on one of the lounge chairs on the beach. Ahhh, I could finally relax.

My plan for the evening didn’t consist of much: a cocktail overlooking the sunset at the beach bar, dinner at one of the three resort restaurants and an early night to bed. The Anantara rate was all-inclusive, and while I didn’t expect Singita-level quality (I was spoiled forever by that place), I hoped that the service wouldn’t be of the watered-down drinks and dinner buffet variety.

After my quiet sunset, I enjoyed an equally quiet dinner of salad and risotto, thankfully made to order and relatively decent. I asked my server if it would be possible to bring the rest of the bottle of white wine to my room, and she insisted on escorting me with an ice bucket to keep it chilled. She was young, cheerful and outgoing, telling me about her life on the island as we walked. In her early 20s, she already had three children (!) and had been working at the resort for years. I was missing the Singita hospitality; while everyone at Anantara was pleasant enough, the staff was nowhere near as warm and welcoming as Kirin and Yani at Singita. This woman was an exception, and I enjoyed chatting with her. “See you tomorrow, Miss Andrea!” she delightfully bade me farewell.

First, Last & Only Full Day on Bazaruto Island

I awoke early the next morning, as I was still on the safari schedule of early nights and 5:30am wake-up calls. I hit the gym (serviceable, but at least I had it to myself), got breakfast and headed to the spa for my late morning appointment.

After a soothing massage (my fifth of the trip!), my ambitions for the day slowed way down. Reading by the pool, lunch, reading by the beach, shower, sunset, dinner, bed.

I was surprised that I hadn’t run into the Brits more; I did eventually find a girl from Ireland (she was one of a few non-British travel agents on the boondoggle) hiding from the rest of the group at one of the communal pools. She apologized for her belligerent colleagues and explained that most of them were off doing activities planned for their group (i.e. snorkeling, sandboarding). They also had private dinners scheduled every evening held away from the main restaurants to keep the crew separate from the rest of the guests that wanted peace and quiet. I had to give Anantara credit for their efforts in isolating the large group. If I hadn’t been on the same incoming flight, I may not have known we were all sharing a resort with only 44 rooms.

The one activity that I did have planned for my last evening was a sunset cruise on a traditional Mozambican sailboat called a dhow. The manager at Anantara told me a cruise was included with my stay, so I wasn’t going to say no. I expected that I’d be joined with a small group of other guests, but nope. I got a solo private cruise with not one, but two skippers. It was a little uncomfortable as they opened up a bottle of wine for me and handed over a large plate of cheese and charcuterie that was way too much food for one person. I smiled appreciatively, made small talk and enjoyed the incredible view throughout the one hour cruise.

My final night and morning on the island were rather uneventful. Dinner, more wine, early bedtime, early wake-up, gym, breakfast, check-out. Despite the worrisome start to the trip, I ultimately got the peaceful time that I wanted to rest and recharge. I felt ready for the long trip back to Cape Town (water taxi, overland transfer, two flights) and my last four nights in South Africa.