Riding the White Sands

Mozambique's Water Horses

The topic of our next newsletter is always on my mind, and I realized recently that I have never shared the pivotal experience that drew me into this country for the first time: riding with Mozambique Horse Safaris.  

To rectify this oversight, I have decided to write about the horses today. As I shared back here in our introductory post, after graduating from university I was looking for something horse and travel related to do, and discovered the opportunity to volunteer with Mozambique Horse Safaris. This is a wonderful experience which I would strongly recommend to anyone with similar interests, as it involves looking after the 40 horses here and riding on the long, soft sand beaches every day.

Cantering on Tequila across the wild side of Benguerra Island.

Obviously, I have stayed longer than your average volunteer, and while I am no longer volunteering, I still ride when I can and love nothing more than to hop into the familiar soft leather saddles and clip clop down the thin dirt path, through a tunnel made up of spinoza bush on one side and baobab trees on the other, down to the beach.

There are a number of rides we do, and anyone, from a first time rider to a competitive show jumper, will find something suitable. The most common rides are the day ride, which is a two hour easy ride along the beach and up the red cliffs to a view point, and the swim ride, which, as the name suggests, is a bareback ride in the warm waters of the Indian Ocean. When safari clients come to spend a week riding with us, there are a variety of longer rides we do, such as the beach and bush ride, the lakes ride (which takes you along to inland lakes) and the red dune ride, which follows the beaches north through the town of Vilankulo and up the tall red sand dunes. 

The view from the top of the red dunes, through Roman’s ears.

What I will share today are a few photos from a ride I did last week with Pat, Jay’s father and patriarch of Mozambique Horse Safaris, and one riding guest. 

It was one of those rare still days here where the ocean is so calm it looks like a flat mirror - everything is reflected back to you in a quavering likeness of semi-reality. The sea and the sky truly meet as one; stepping into water this clear is like striding through textured air. 

A fishing vessel seen twice – solid boat in air, wavering reflection on water.

Where the sand bank ends, the blues merge; there is no barrier between the water and the sky.

The distinctive dhow, rickety but mighty – if you look closely, you will see yellow in the middle of the sail; these are happy faces sewn into the black and blue canvas.

I’ve decided to tell you about this ride because days like this one are rare. Usually, there is at least a bit of wind coming from the sea, which makes the tropical heat bearable. Today, however, there was not a single breath of wind (as it is winter, the heat was not a consideration). The stillness amplified the normally soft sounds of riding – the huff of a horse’s breath, the pressing of a hoof into soft sand. The clear water betrayed its resident fish, giving away their usual hiding places, and the Little Egrets - Egretta garzetta - wasted no time flocking in to take advantage of the easy prey. Their ghostly likenesses slid along the water as they cruised overhead, dipping and diving to catch the baitfish swirling through the stillness.

This display of the circle of life was witnessed through the lens of the horses’ ears as we ambled by, hoofbeats so soft that the egrets barely startled at our passing.

I have ridden most of the horses at Mozambique Horse Safari by now, but Bazooka, a little pony-sized Boerperd – a south African breed – is one of my favorites. He was my steed for the day, and seemed to appreciate the stillness as much as we riders did. He loves the water, and took every chance to dip his nose in, splashing droplets everywhere and creating rippling disturbances to the flat surface.

As the morning wore on, the stillness was broken. Tendrils of wind returned, coaxing the water back to movement and life, and the mirror effect was gone. We turned away from the beach and into the hills, weaving between thin, towering palms and passing through coastal villages.

Our destination was a view point from which the whole of the archipelago is visible:

The dhows dot the waterline on the left hand side, being prepared by the fishermen for sea voyages, while on the right you can see the long finger of the Sao Sebastio peninsula. Farther left, out of the frame, are the islands: Bangue, Magaruque, Benguerra, Bazaruto, and Paradise. In the right corner are Pat and our guest on Chelsea and Shaka.

From the view point, we turned our horses’ noses once again towards home, and they surged forward towards the promise of a shady tree and fresh, full hay nets. Our ride was over by noon, and it was the perfect way to spend a morning.