Set in pretty grounds around a small swimming pool lined with swaying palms, Casa Jules is a peaceful and friendly joint, run by the likeable owner who knows a thing or two about making a decent pizza or spaghetti bolognese (by Vilanculos standards, anyway). It’s part of the backpacker hostel Zombie Cucumber, although it operates separately and is open to non-residents. Both Casa Jules and Zombie Cucumber have pleasant rooms for guests, including lovely doubles for 2250 Mets that come with free Wi-Fi access. The kind owners Valerie and Bruno will help arrange activities.

The wooden chairs and tables make for a pleasant dinner spot. We like Casa Jules for an early supper, chased by a poolside sundowner. The menu changes regularly, and is etched onto a blackboard. When we stopped by, the two daily starters were fish soup and crab samosas, both at 220 Mets. Main courses included the ubiquitous calamari, beef stroganoff (300 Mets), crayfish (500 Mets), chicken kebob (400 Mets), and prawns (380 Mets). Everything comes with mash, fries, or salad. The Italian specialities have their own menu, which is definitely worth checking out; the wood-fired margarita pizza was the best we tried in Vilanculos. It’s worth ordering ahead of time so that the chef has time to make sure the ingredients are fresh.

You can take a wander through the grounds of Zombie Cucumber, too. If you’re wondering about the name, it comes from a non-fiction book by author Nick Middleton, who travelled around Mozambique in the aftermath of the civil war and wrote about it in “Kalashnikovs and zombie cucumbers.” Zombie cucumber, by the way, is another name for Devil’s snare, a powerful hallucinogen found in parts of the Caribbean. Some Mozambicans used the term to refer to the powers of pufferfish organs; you might spot dried pufferfish hanging from some Mozambican island houses to ward off bad spirits. Now if that doesn’t whet your appetite…