Cold beer
As we get closer to the first village, both men are astonished by what they see. Every few hundred metres, we pass barracas or wooden stalls proudly advertising "cold beer" in English. There was nothing here before, they say. And in the first village, there is a well-lit and well-stocked store, selling everything from washing powder to batteries. "This was just a dark, empty hole," they exclaim.

Their amazement grows as we reach the main village, Santa Maria. There are two stores, a whole slew of barracas, a local market with cement stalls, and even a brand new commercial centre, offered to the community by Machangulo S.A., the company developing the home of Prince Willem-Alexander and 200 other wealthy investors.

Party-like atmosphere
It's a Saturday afternoon, and there's a party-like atmosphere in Santa Maria. There is music blaring from most of the barracas, and the majority of people are in some state of intoxication. A decade ago, say my travel companions, there was no electricity here, no booze, and no money.

But today, about 400 people in Santa Maria and the rest of the peninsula are employed by Machangulo S.A., and while the salaries may not be high, people say they're better than nothing. We speak to a man in his early 20s, who has worked as a painter on the project for the past four years. He doesn't have a contract, but he doesn't mind. He earns enough to provide for his wife and his baby daughter and he's convinced that there'll be work for him for the rest of his life.

Slash and burn farming
His enthusiasm seems to be shared by many. People are giving up fishing and slash and burn farming for jobs with Machangulo. In fact, growing numbers of Machangulans who emigrated to South Africa because of a lack of job opportunities are now returning to the peninsula. The number of school age children has jumped from 590 in 2005 to nearly a thousand today.

Even when the construction work is completed in five to six years' time, there will be plenty of work for locals, according to the eco-tourism project. All the investors are required to hire at least two local people, and some of the jet set living in the first five houses that were completed are employing up to six people. When all the houses, the 200-bed hotel and the two resorts are completed, Machangulo S.A. estimates that there will be work for 1500-2000 people, that's more than the 1000 Machangulans of working age.

But Machangulo S.A. has not been without controversy. In the early part of this century, the company negotiated a title deed with the local inhabitants, giving it 85% of the peninsula. When the villagers discovered what they had done, they demanded that Machangulo S.A. give back some of the land. In 2007, the company started negotiations to return 4000 hectares of land to the local people, leaving the project with 50% of the peninsula. Not that this will change much for the locals because they are guaranteed free access to the entire peninsula, and no one has been forcibly removed from their land.

Eco-tourism
There has also been criticism of the apparent dichotomy between an eco-tourism project and jet setters flying in and driving around the pristine-but-poor peninsula. I put these concerns to the head of a team in Maputo who carried out an extensive independent environmental feasibility study. He says all the concerns I raise about waste management, water pollution, and destruction of the peninsula's unique dunes were considered, and steps are being taken to minimise damage to the environment.

The government also approved the environmental study, as it must by law. Machangulo S.A. confirms this: they're only building 10 to 15 houses a year to avoid permanent damage to the environment, and they're avoiding cutting rare species of trees. They're also planning to teach local people about the negative impact of slash and burn farming, in the hope of preserving the peninsula's remaining flora.

Smoked ham
When I talk to local people about the storm of controversy that has erupted in Holland about the project and the Dutch prince's involvement, they're surprised and perplexed. As far as they're concerned, anything that brings jobs to this poor and backward area of Mozambique is more than welcome. But I leave wondering how the super rich are going to manage to get their champagne, smoked ham and other essentials to this extremely remote corner of the planet.