Finally, after a couple of days of walking, we had reached the small village located on the slopes of the sacred Namuli. There we waited sitting at the return of the person who should bless our climb to the mountain: The Queen of the Mountain (To Rainha da Montanha).
After just over an hour, we saw her arrive accompanied by her husband and another man. She was a queen with a small entourage, but she reigns after all. In addition, her husband was wearing a tracksuit jacket that made me think that other Spaniards had been there before me ... Or that, or the Association of Parks and Gardens of Alcorcón had sent clothes to sponsor the consort king.
The Queen of this village, founded on matriarchal bases, sat on a sidewalk and began a function that made us stop believing in the magic of the sacred Namuli.
We had carried in the backpacks those present who had advised us to offer the Queen. Namely: 1 kilo of rice, another flour, another sugar, another pasta and a small bottle of coconut rum (that was homegrown). After a brief presentation - using an interpreter who translated our Portuguese into the tribal dialect - the Queen asked us what brought us to the Namuli. We commented on our trip through Mozambique and how we had heard about Vilanculos About this special place.
The conversation lasted a few more minutes until the crucial point arrived. We took out our offerings and the Queen twisted the gesture automatically. What he liked most was the rum. We all drank it in some cups that he took out of the blue one of his subjects. When he had rushed his cup (in one drink) he released us, plain and simple and in perfect Portuguese, that we had to pay 600 Meticais each for her to pray to the gods and the weather was favorable when, the next morning, we tried to climb to the top of the Namuli.
That's where all the mysticism that the place could have ended.
After a while of discussion - we didn't even have that money with us - we decided that they could keep their mountain because for us the road had been so rewarding that climbing a mountain didn't exactly suit us. At least, the Queen did have the good heart to welcome us under her roof that night.
We walked to the area of houses where part of his family was. The consort king, a character much nicer and closer than the Queen, lent us some mats and the three of us lay down to rest in the light of a Sun that finally began to lose strength, making life easier for the poor mortals who try to live in these areas of infernal heat.
Resting at A Rainha's house