Malawi
Trip Start
Mar 20, 2012
1
15
30
Trip End
Oct 16, 2013
Kande Beach, Central Region, Malawi
Thursday, May 24, 2012
crossed the border. The time spent with Ryan’s parents and then travelling
through these glorious countries seemed to have flown by. The difference
between the countries, simply by crossing the border is astounding. Malawi is land locked by three surrounding
counties, but with a lake that makes up a fifth of the country and spans two
thirds of the eastern boarder there is no need for the ocean. It wasn’t too long until we reached the campsite
for the night; a simple place right on the white sand shores of Chitimba Beach. It is breathtakingly beautiful as you listen
to the small waves gently lapping against the shore. The downside was the price of internet –
1500MK ($7.50USD) for an hour, which ultimately was worse than NZ dial up. Luckily only one night there before heading south
to Kande Beach in the morning. After a
much appreciated sleep in we made our way through the hills toward Mzuzu. The drive made me nervous witnessing the remains
of some pretty serious truck accidents. These
are a common sight all over Africa. As
we entered a clothing market in Mzuzu some crackling and sparks signaled that
the top of our truck had taken out a power line. This put us a bit behind schedule by a lady
wanting compensation for some potatoes she wouldn’t be able to cook without
power. We stopped at the clothes market, where the donated
clothes are so ridiculous even the locals won’t wear them. Perfect for our fancy dress evening that was
penciled into our itinerary though. A
swarm of sack carrying men surrounded us trying to entice us with their
sequins, floral patterns and overly revealing clothes.
Later on our mission to Kande beach we pulled into a market housing wooden
polished, works of art. What these men
create from a piece of wood is beautiful, from tables to globes to wooden
animals with the tap of a chisel. The
new campsite was again lakeside and we had the luxury of a three night stay. Down on the beach the locals tried to sell
all sorts, laundry cleaning, cakes, paintings, dreads, carvings, t-shirts and boat
trips, anything to make a dollar or two.
The night crept upon us and after chowing down some food we exchanged
costumes with victims from a hat full of names. The clothes looked like they
had belonged to a lesbian roller-skater, were stolen from magnum PI or were
worn in the musical gay Tarzan. Cupful’s
of alcohol were drunk until enough courage was built up to venture to the bar
and jump around.
The following morning a pig hanging by its legs was carried past us on its
way to get dizzy over a fire. The day was
spent relaxing on the beach and swimming in the saltless sea. The pig had been cooking for hours over
glowing coals and it made a crackling sound as its skin turned to
crackling. A honey mix was painted onto
the ribs as our eyes continued to outgrow our stomachs. We all stuffed ourselves so full that a rendition
of the previous night’s dancing was not as appealing.
A village tour displayed the ways of living for the 4,500 people living there.
The food they eat and how they prepare
it, the houses, even one of the 3 water pumps over a well (donated by Canada),
of which I used to pump a bucketful. The
school and hospital were intriguing to find how understaffed and overworked
they are, but did not appreciate the donation boxes shoved under our noses
while they watched. Dinner was also in
the village which was flavorsome and was shadowed by a dance by the children of
the village, which was somewhat worrying watching the hip thrusting and general
eroticism of it.
We evacuated the campsite at 5am for a 12hour drive day toward Zambia. A day and a half of driving finally got us to
the border. I’m sure Zambia must have a
lot to offer tourists, including Vic falls and game parks, but we were just
using it as a route to get to Zim. Not
till the succeeding day did we enter Lusaka, the capital. Our minds boggled as we lunched in a mall so
western we struggled with the choices. Sadly
it was our last night with Anna, our guide, and Dixon, our driver before
changing trucks to a different guide and driver, Anna and Dave, before heading
onto Zimbabwe.
