This is a warning: Long entry follows. Make a cup of tea if you're really interested enough to read the entire way through...
Sorry for the hiatus (again), it’s been a hectic few weeks here jam packed full of disastrous fundraising events, medical emergencies (of the human variety) and the arrival of one very lovely boyfriend all the way from the UK.
To those who sent messages (and shampoo) from abroad, thanks ever so much. This particular blog is dedicated to Hannah Wootton – hope you’re enjoying your cup of tea in bed my dear. Can’t wait to see the new arrival on my return!
So I won’t pack everything into one blog but will do a few different entries about the places we’ve been to and what’s been happening. This one will be about TRAVELLING in Malawi
On our first day we encountered real cheesecake, 7 petrol stations without petrol and I received my first speeding ticket. After after they fined me 20 quid, they packed up the camera (if it really was a speed camera….) saying that the battery had gone flat just after it clocked me. More likely they were off to the pub with my fine.
We took the wrong road a mere three times and there was very nearly a murder committed (Miss Smith in the White Pajero with a Tyre Iron) when we realised that we were almost in Zomba – 180km from where we were supposed to be. Not so bad if :
a) You didn’t have a fuel crisis to contend with
b) Weren’t feeling so smug about having just found fuel
c) Didn’t feel the fear of driving in Africa after dark
d) Don’t have an unholy control-freakish obsession about maps and so get unjustifiably enraged when the male navigator (who wouldn’t let you look at the map) gets you lost.
In his defence, there were no road signs (until 10kms out of Zomba) and the maps were crap. Luckily we found somewhere to stay in Zomba with mozzies the size of B52s and a bed like the Grand Canyon ). And we even got to eat a dead mangled chook flung into a bowl of tomato soup.
Zomba’s a very pretty town. Looks kind of like an overgrown garden with lots of crumbling colonial plantation houses and a steep road that winds up the Zomba Plateau through amazing jungle until you reach the top where there’s a plush hotel with great coffee and amazing views over the plains of South East Malawi.
From Zomba we went to Mulanje to climb Mulanje Massif led by our guide Leason, who was orphaned by a minibus accident and guides to support his 3 younger siblings.
We hauled ass up sheer mountain side for more than 5 hours to get to the plateau of Mulanje, a mere 2,700meters high, each lugging backpacks full of Smash and 2 minute noodles, cooking utensils, ‘layers’ and sleeping bags. We cursed the fact that the three American students in our group had tiny backpacks. How had they managed it? You have to bring your own food and temperatures often have the little minus sign in front of them during the night.
We were quite chuffed when we realised that they were still slower than us But these guys were seriously underprepared - no sleeping bags, one bread roll and an orange each and no change of clothes for when the reached the top – which was COLD. Later, as Paul and I sat by the fire, wearing warm clothes and eating tasty stuff while they nibbled on a breadroll each, we felt slightly guilty and offered them a teabag (to share), and a jelly baby each. But the fact that I’d hauled our food up the mountain for 5 bloody hours stopped us from giving all of it away.
Thankfully they left the next day, which meant less guilt trips to endure, and we continued on a 6 hour trek to the next hut, walking through the clouds and even higher into jungle till we reached the base at Chambe. Had the next hut to ourselves, complete with log fire and candles, which might have been romantic if not for the sweaty socks, blisters, aching muscles and utter exhaustion.
And the third day we spent 4 hours walking down the other side of the mountain through stunning rainforest (with waterfalls), got to bottom, stuffed our faces with pizza and then headed to Mozambique
Satemwa Tea Estates
Spent the next 2 nights at a stunning 1920’s house based on the Satemwa Tea Estates Apparently our room, the old family chapel, is haunted by an old man who sits on your chest. I guess that would spoil the romance. We had the privilege of meeting the head of the estate, a brilliant 80 year old gentleman called Chip who used to fly his plane off his front lawn and has some very un-PC stories...
We got to ham it up colonial style with G&Ts and croquet on the lawn, and open fires with red wine. We mixed it up with some mountain biking, 5kms of steep up hill peddling hurling insults and swear words at each other followed by 5km of downhill rock dodging, hurling insults at each other. I stacked it three times, went over the handlebars and flipped the bike once and lost my favourite beanie – forever L.
Next stop was Blantyre
The following day we high tailed it to Cape Maclear, got lost in Balaka and visited Mangochi three times (Paul blames the maps). Got to Cape Mac
Although I was violently ill for most of the next day and night (not a hangover), on the third day I was much better and we boated 10km out into Lake Malawi to a beautiful, stunning, amazing, gorgeous island called Mumbo Island for 2 nights of sheer romantic luxury. No electricity, bucket showers and zero phone reception combined with sunset kayaking, the best snorkelling I have ever done, great food, champagne in a hammock and nights by lantern light. Ahhhh……And if we didn’t have to remortgage the flat to stay another night, we definitely would have.
Back on the mainland, we realised that we had a puncture – all part of the 4WD experience apparently - so we went to Monkey Bay and got it fixed for £8 with maximum drama and some weed fumes thrown in for free.
Eventually we rolled back into Lilongwe
