Certain travellers give the impression that they keep moving because only then do they feel fully alive - Ella Maillart

16 May 2019, Cahama to Shebemba, 65,8km
Pensão Shebemba 3,000Kz (R134)

We slept well in our tent, feeling unthreatened beside the goat pen. After 3-in-1 coffee and biscuits for breakfast, we pottered back into town to photograph a war memorial and buy bottled water for the road.
It was a hot 65km to Shebemba, also spelled Chebemba and Tshibemba.
On the road, we saw bigger herds of cattle than in either Namibia or Angola, herded by boys and men carrying gourds, we assume containing water or milk for drinking. The cattle have extraordinary horns, long and curved and lovely, and look healthy. I find their slow measured pace, matched by that of their minders, meditative. A purposeful plod, accompanied by the mellow tunk of cow bells around the necks of leaders. Some of the boys herding the cattle are tiny tots, confident in managing beasts far larger than they, and outnumbering them; responsible for their family’s four-legged wealth. And we saw bare-breasted women, and trees with leaves turned yellow.
On the southern edge of Shebemba is a granite quarry. Strangely, there seemed to be an excess of granite because the road to the quarry was lined with enormous blocks of it, and one or two small homesteads “fenced” with blocks disproportionate to their modest buildings.
We had no idea whether Shebemba sported a pensão, so were thrilled when our enquiry (“pensão?”) upon entering town elicited a positive nod and pointed hand. The pensão, opposite the police roadblock, looked run down from the outside, but its plant-filled courtyard garden was charming.
Initially the woman with whom I spoke indicated she had a room for us, then said she did not. When I was clearly upset about this, she showed me what she had left: a basic box-room with a bare mattress on the floor. I said I was happy with this option and after we agreed a price, she set a girl to put clean sheets and pillows with cases on the mattress.
The bathroom was of the shared cold-water bucket-bath variety, but not in good condition with a missing loo seat and broken basin. It is astonishing that one can leave a bathroom like that feeling cleaner than when you entered it, but you can provided the water is clean and you keep your slip slops on while bathing. I don’t mind the cold water in this heat, and don’t mind having to flush with a jug of water dipped into the large drum filled from some unknown source. And, truth be told, the bathroom was considerably cleaner and less odourous than others we have been dealt during our travels.
Please note that we speak no Portuguese beyond a few learned politenesses. If needs be, we use Google Translate to communicate more complex needs. So when I say I “spoke” to the pensão proprietor, I mean in sign language and single words. Extraordinary how much one can achieve with very little.
We agreed that our hostess would feed us for a fee, and sat down later to a dinner of chicken and spaghetti at the dining table in her on-site home. So hot was the night, that we slept with our door open onto the courtyard, the entrance partially blocked by two backless plastic seats we had been provided with earlier in the afternoon. The barrier was sufficient to keep the pet dogs out, but would not have been a deterrent to a human intruder - so obviously we felt either hot enough or safe enough to risk the open door.

For today's route see below photos 
For overview route, click on ROUTE tab above…