I’m getting a little hungry as I sit here typing this up on a couch in Fatima’s Backpackers. “Nice black chicks man….Ahhh It’s like heaven. I don’t want to  go to heaven tonight” says the guy to my right. He has told us to go to Copa Cabana, a strip club here in Maputo.  “Ahhhhhh…!” says Gucci, laughing with his head in his hands. Such a French way to laugh. “Casper is coming!” he says with a smile on his face. It’s going to be an interesting night.

A story from James of a South African stripper sticking her vagina in his face while saying “Want some sushi?” really makes me grimace. Today I’ve been just hanging out and doing not much. I did a lot of work today and now people are trying to organize this Copa Cabana shit.

It was raining like crazy today. Breakfast was great, at like 09.30 Daria and I had a boozy breakfast at this awesome garden restaurant off Vladimir Lenin Street. It was fantastic…I had a 750 metical bottle of champagne, and I introduced her to Mimosas. It totally blew her mind. My petit breakfast was tasty, but I ate some of her huge Mozambican sandwich thing. It was fantastic…this huge sandwich–and only just a half portion too–in a bowl of beef gravy and cheese on top with some fries to dip it in. Fuckin’ awesome.

Yesterday I took that fucking eight hour bus from Zavora and then got into the hostel. I went to this odd little Korean/Vietnamese place and ate some beef pho…in Africa. And a side of kimchi too–not bad. Felt really full and took a bit of a nap. Then I showered up and we had some drinks and then we eventually went for some dinner at the same garden place with Kasper and the ginger kind of crazy Norwegian garbage-lady. She was cool. They left early to go smash.

I went to this weird street bar place for an afterparty where we met up with the rest of the hostel-goers. It was kind of boring, but I held this big drum while this dusty older white guy was playing it. I got a up-close view of his hands drumming away and I could like see them in slow motion moving faster than my eye could follow. It was cool as fuck. Some guy was beatboxing as well while another played the table with his hands in the restaurant. African people are so musical.

The rest of the people tried to go to a club but I wasn’t down. Daria and I went to go watch Fight Club but only made it half-way through. The other hostel-goers came back like two hours later. Then in the morning I found out no one got into the club due to dress code violations. Rejected, they walked back and got stopped by the cops three times. The police found the girls rolling papers and were like ooohhhh! and got all excited, but then they saw it was just tobacco and were disappointed.

I’m beginning to like Maputo.