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Ahhh Mozambique... The love/hate relationship started before we even set foot in the country. After trying to obtain a visa in three different capital-city embassies, we were finally told to just 'get our visa at the border crossing'. Border crossings in general are usually anxiety-ridden enough, then add to that notoriously corrupt officials that speak a language you don't (Portuguese), that may or may not choose to issue you a visa, and you are left with sweaty palms and a nervously beating heart. However, like most worries in life, they never came to fruition and it was down the road we went. After a couple more early mornings, cramming into buses on dusty roads, we were back on the shores of the Indian Ocean, in Jambesse, near Mozambique Island.