Tuesday 23 June 2009


Spelt like Tofo, pronounced like Tofu. The sun was setting behind silhouettes of palm trees as we arrived and the vast beach with long, elegant waves unfurling themselves all the way along, made me gasp out loud.

It’s better looking than Villanculos and another slightly ridiculous place to not go diving. If you tell a diver that you don’t dive because you can’t swim, they will instantly tell you that they know someone who also can’t swim and is actually a very good diver. I DON’T BELIEVE YOU. The thing about Tofo is that you don’t have to go diving to see the mad stuff. I saw whale sharks, manta rays and dolphins just snorkelling (which is a million times easier than swimming, incidentally). But, ultimately, diving really is the thing to do.

So, why don’t I dive? Well, mainly because of the not being able to swim thing, obviously, and having a healthy suspicion of large bodies of water. Also, it’s one of these labour intensive hobbies where you have to spend ages preparing to do it before you can actually do it. Also, it’s not cheap, perhaps equivalent to a week or three in South East Asia. And I’m bored enough of carrying a backpack around to want another one for under the water. Anyway, I did learn to dive, off the edge off the pool. I think I got to three metres.

When it comes down to it, a beach is a beach is a beach and the stuff you do on them is much the same. Some may be better for swimming, others better for diving, and some you just can’t take your eyes off. Tofo is one of those. So, if you like beaches, you’ll love Tofo. But you’ll barely know you’re in Africa.

No comments:

Post a Comment