Malawi Day One Gallery
Phew, what a journey. I actually managed to walk through Dubai airport for the first time in several years instead of getting a wheelchair, which felt good. Whilst I’m a lazy tart and liked getting a lift, I also didn’t like feeling like an invalid. 14 hours to get from Dubai to Malawi, longer than I was expecting. But the bonus is I accidentally did another country en route. I thought I was flying from Dubai to Addis Ababa in Ethiopia (where I have stayed before) and then on to Lilongwe in Malawi. So, I changed planes in Addis and then dozed off. I was woken with several bumps as we landed and looked out over a sea of greenery. I got off and headed into the small terminal building. I was clutching my passport and Malawi visa application form. I was hoiked out of my queue twice and moved to a different queue by a guy in a uniform whose job was obviously to move people from one queue to another. But when I reached the counter a kerfuffle ensued. The lady behind the glass partition called a guy in a uniform and shouted “Malawi, Malawi”. He hurriedly escorted me back to the plane, which was fortunately still sitting on the tarmac. I was in DRC (the Democratic Republic of the Congo). Well I wouldn’t normally count this as “doing” a country, but given that the last time I tried to get to DRC (when I was in Rwanda) they said they couldn’t get a visa for me, and given all the violence and strife that is going down at the moment, which make it a fairly dangerous destination now, I am going to consider the DRC box ticked.
So we took off again and landed in Lilongwe.
Malawi so far is very pretty. Wheaten pastures and bushy dark green trees. I am in a charming spot called Kumbali Country Lodge. Really quiet and peaceful. Nothing but birdsong and cicadas to drown the senses. The waiter/receptionist is called Manuel! Que? As he was showing me to my room, I asked him if it was safe to wander around at night; were there any dangerous animals like hippos or big cats, I asked? Oh no, he reassured me, only dangerous snakes. Aargh, my worst phobia.
Well I’m sitting outside on my terrace, having a sundowner and listening to the cacophony of birdsong. The temperature is perfect and I am looking forward to dinner. Just keeping one eye scanning for any slithery advancement.
Malawi Day 2
I was, as usual, awake half the night, but there was a cemetery hush outside apart from an occasional bird call. Deliciously silent. So peaceful. I had arranged with my driver Francis that we would leave at 9.00 a.m. to head to the lake. Well I was tired and very comfy in bed, so time ticked by and I didn’t get up. I was just fiddling on the internet which I was pleased to still have, having been warned there would be no internet here. Finally at about 9.00 I went for breakfast. I saw Francis waiting and told him I would be late (you will know the feeling Rin 😘). I ordered a full English. I was happily waiting for my breakfast when the large and outgoing F&B manageress, who had introduced herself to me the night before, came to ask me a favour. I was about to travel to their other property on the shore of Lake Malawi. They had another guest, Andrew, a jolly nice and respectable chap who had known the owner of the properties for years, and who was also going to the lakeside property this morning. Would it be ok if he shared my car, rather than taking a second one to go to the same place? Well I was really miffed. What a cheeky imposition. I am paying for private transport, and don’t want to share my car with some bloke I don’t know just because he’s a chum of the owner’s. The F&B lady could see that I was not exactly thrilled at the prospect. She said it didn’t matter if I was uncomfortable with the idea as she could arrange alternative transport for him if necessary. Well I told her that I really wished she hadn’t asked me, but since she had I could hardly refuse, as long as he sat in front next to the driver and not in the back with me. But it rankled with me all through my breakfast. How annoying. I was cross at having been asked and also cross with myself for not wanting to share my car, feeling that I was being unreasonable. But I should not have been made to feel like that.
The F&B woman came and introduced the owner and Andrew to me. Great. Whoop de doop, I’m still feeling put upon. I finished my breakfast and was on my way back to my room when I saw Francis. I told him that I had been asked to give a lift to some bloke I didn’t know who was going to the same place. He looked perturbed and headed into reception.
By the time I vacated my room, about ten minutes later, he had sorted it. We were not taking Andrew as it was against his company’s rules. He could only drive me as I had paid for private transport. I was quite happy about that.
I went in to pay my bill. I was given a bill for $285 for the night. What? I didn’t have that much to drink last night! I said that I had already paid for my room via my travel agent (my go to African travel guru, Judy Fell of Africa Connection), so I should only have to pay for the drinks I had ordered. Well this took a while to sort out and I was quite impatient to leave. Finally it got sorted, with an apology, and off we went. So, lovely as the property and location were, I didn’t exactly leave on good terms with the place. Pity.
It was quite a long drive from Lilongwe to the lake shore in Salima, made longer by me wanting to stop and take some pics in a local village. With it being Sunday, we saw lots of villagers in their Sunday best (little boys with white shirts and bow ties, buxom ladies in brightly patterned sarongs) returning from mass, this being a predominantly Catholic country. Along the road I saw goatherds, women with children bandaged around their back with garishly coloured cloth, a guy with a straggly line of scrawny, angular oxen and ladies walking along with huge bundles and buckets and bowls and heaps of wood or palm fronds on their heads (funny how you never see the men doing the heavy lifting!).
I got Francis to pull over by a small village. We walked around. The children were shy, the ladies placidly breast-feeding their babies were smiley and calm. I saw the circular maize store, the communal bamboo-walled bathroom (bring your own water!), the communal bamboo toilet - I didn’t look inside, knowing it would be a stinky hole in the ground arrangement. There were goats and cockerels and hens and their chicks. The houses were mostly mud huts with a few red brick buildings. The roofs were thatched. They were clearly all desperately poor, living hand to mouth from what they grew on the land. There were hymns emanating from a nearby ugly new rectangular brick church, so I popped in for a look-see.
Back on the road again. I nodded off on the back seat and woke when we were not far from the lake. Kumbali Lake Retreat is the sister property to the one I was in last night. The manager introduced himself as Stinga. Extraordinarily dazzlingly white teeth-and they were natural, not Hollywood style. After quite a few uneven stone steps, I arrived at the main lounge/restaurant/bar area, with a thatched roof and open at the sides. It is about 20 metres from the lake shore, with a sandy beach lying between. A stunning location. The sound of the waves from the lake is gorgeous, just like listening to the sea. So restful. A pleasant breeze played about. I didn’t want to go to my room-I just wanted to stay here and listen to the waves and relax. I felt like I could have stayed here for another three years.
Andrew turned up and was warmly welcomed by Stinga and the other staff. Clearly a regular. They gave me some fish for lunch, which wasn’t particularly nice, but I wasn’t hungry anyway, having had an English breakfast. Suddenly a rock rabbit, not a creature I have heard of before, ventured into the lounge area. I tried to get a picture, but it hopped off. Then I suddenly saw another 4 or 5 of them, all around the place. But I couldn’t snap them as they were too nervous and elusive. I also saw a thing like a large black and white skink and a large lizard that looked like an iguana. I think it was a Monitor lizard. A red cardinal flittered about in the bushes. Butterflies were in abundance.
I stayed sitting, lulled by the sound of the waves, for most of the afternoon. But then I had to go to my room and get changed for the 4.00 p.m. boat trip. Oh lord, a lot of misshapen, uneven stone steps winding up the hill for quite a way. Even worse, the loo is outside, so I have to unlock the door and traipse down a stone walkway, past the outdoor bamboo “shower” cubicle. Very inconvenient.
I got changed into tee shirt and shorts and made my way gingerly back down all the awkward steps. I called for Stinga and complained that the room was unsuitable for me and I wanted something closer with less steps and with an en suite bathroom. He said they had given me the closest room and the one with the most convenient bathroom. Apparently the others have bathrooms behind the chalets so you have to go outside and walk uphill to get to them. Groan. At least mine is on the same level. I told him he had better have someone to escort me to my room after supper, as I wouldn’t be able to safely manage those steps on my own in the dark.
It was now 4.00p.m., so I wandered down onto the small beach and clambered aboard the waiting boat. Andrew joined me. We were going to search for fish eagles. The water on the lake was quite choppy. We motored round to a beautiful promontory and the boat boys got out a whistle, and whistled. This was apparently their usual signal to call the fish eagles and let them know some fish were about to be thrown out for them. Well we saw 4 or 5 of them. Magnificent creatures with a wingspan of maybe a yard or more. They swooped down and scooped up the fish we had thrown, before returning to their dens on the wooded cliff. I tried to video them, but without success as they were too quick for me and it was difficult to stand with the boat wallowing from side to side.
Then we went over to see a small fishing village. Fish were drying in the sun on scores of long tables set out on the beach.
After an hour, we motored back to the lodge. I got someone to help me up the steps to my room and said I would take supper in my room as there was no way I was going down and up those steps again in the dark. So I ate on my veranda, overlooking the lake. Mild beef curry, followed by chocolate pudding and custard. Getting fat.
I am now in bed. There is absolutely no internet here, which is marvellous, and none where I am heading to next on the islands in the lake, so I don’t know when this will get posted. I don’t care. I am listening to the waves rolling onto the shore and it is just the most wonderful sound, a really good sound to nod off with. Night night.
Malawi Day 3
I was awake half the night as usual, but listening to the waves washing onto the beach. Amplified by the quietude it was a mollifying susurration. I gave up trying to sleep around five and went and sat on my verandah. I soon saw early travellers on the lake, in small sail boats and canoes, travelling to and fro. I went back to bed for a bit and read my book. I heard a voice from outside my door at about 9.15 saying I was late for breakfast and would I like to have it in my room. So I ordered another full English. Must stop doing that!
I sauntered down well before 11.00 when I had arranged to meet Francis. We set off for the Blue Zebra Lodge on Nankoma Island in the lake. I stopped en route to browse some stalls at a craft market and ended up buying some more tat that I didn’t need: hand carved bowls, a wooden fridge magnet and a wooden letter opener.
It was a short boat ride, just 20 minutes in a power boat, to Nankoma. There was an American couple on the boat with me, who had won their trip in a lottery. The lake was choppy and I got showered by waves a few times. My luggage, in the bow, got even wetter.
What a lovely spot this is. Judy Fell nails it again 😘.
The American couple and I are the only guests on the island tonight, so we have been upgraded to executive rooms, and jolly nice they are too. My terrace is right over the lake, my room flower bedecked.
I spent a long while sitting in the swing seat on my terrace, rocking gently back and forth. The lake was the deepest blue colour. I could see the pale blue-grey silhouettes of the mountains on the opposite shore of the lake. My room is called Cormorant and, funnily enough, I saw a cormorant perched on a rock in the lake just in front of my terrace. At first I assumed he was fishing, but he must have eaten earlier, as he just sat there preening himself, looking to the left, looking to the right, looking out across the lake and I didn’t see him dive into the water once after a fish. He had been sitting there for over an hour when I left to go for lunch.
As you will all know, I love animals. I am not normally especially interested in birds, except when I come to Africa. The variety here of all shapes and sizes of bird and the startling vivid colours is a spectacle to behold. One that has come to my attention so far on this trip is the African pied wagtail. Not of gaudy hue, but a very prettily marked black and white bird about the size of a sparrow. Very cute. There is also a bush/tree next to my terrace with round berries on it that the birds like to eat. I caught a really cute snap of a small bird with a berry in its beak. Along the sandy path to my room are many small lizards, including ones with electric blue tails. So pretty.
I had a lazy afternoon after lunch, lying on a lounger with my book. I went to the sunset lounge, but it wasn’t the best sunset, as the sun ended up going down behind a mountain rather than over the lake. Then I moved to the bar beside the pool. Then dinner. A bush baby came in to the restaurant area to join us for dinner and a waiter gave it some sliced banana. So cute, with a face like a battered teddy bear and a huge bushy tail, I just wanted to cuddle it, but it stayed up in the rafters. I am now back in my room/tent. It is very windy tonight and I can’t close one half of the tent flaps, so it’s a bit like lying in a mild cat 1 hurricane! But the noise of the waves has increased. Gorgeous.
Malawi Day 4
Well I was awake all night. The wind increased and all the flaps on my tented room were flapping and slapping wildly. I dozed off in the morning and when I awoke and looked at my watch I was amazed to see that it was gone 4.00p.m.! Heavens. I was just in time to get up for the sunset cruise I had booked the day before.
I got dressed and went down to the beach. I saw lots more of the blue-tailed lizards on the way. There was only me and the skipper, Idrisa, on the boat and we set off for a good spot to watch the sunset. Then we stopped for refreshments and to watch the sun go down. Lovely. I saw some more fish eagles diving down to the lake for supper. That was all I did today, apart from having a bit of dinner. I can’t remember the last time I had a day as lazy as this 😀
But since I don’t have much else to say today, I shall tell you a little bit about Lake Malawi and the blue zebras. Lake Malawi is one of the African Great Lakes. It takes up 20% of the area of the country of Malawi. It is known as Lake Nyasa in Tanzania and as Lago Niassa in Mozambique. It is located between these three countries. It is over 700m deep in parts and is 560 kilometres long. There are numerous islands dotted in the lake and I stayed on two of them: Nankoma and Mumbo.
It is the ninth largest lake in the world and has more species of fish than any other lake. The occasional croc too! It is particularly known for its cichlids-a diverse variety of fish. Some are eaten, such as tilapia, some, like the cichla, are game fish and some are aquarium fish, such as the freshwater angel fish. Many types are endangered.
I had seen signposts on the road to the lake for blue zebra, and they had small fish logos. The girl who gave us an introductory talk about the lodge, wore a polo shirt with a fish on it. I asked why she had a fish instead of a zebra on the logo, and she explained that the blue zebra was a type of cichlid: a small and pretty blue fish and we could see them in the lake around the island.
One thing they don’t tell you about on the websites for hotels and lodges in and around the lake, is that if you swim in it you are highly likely to contract Bilharzia (or snail fever), a nasty disease that is caused by a parasitic worm. It lives in human blood vessels and affects the intestines and urinary tract. But it can affect other organs too. Sounds nice, doesn’t it?
Well I really wanted to go snorkelling in the lake and to see all the fish and I was armed with my cache of enormous anti-Bilharzia pills. But the lake was too damned cold anyway. So I never got to see any real-life Blue Zebras 😪
Malawi Day 5
I went to the restaurant area for breakfast and ordered, yes you’ve guessed it, a full English. The chef came out to see me and admonished me. He said I must eat it as I had barely touched my dinner last night and he was most offended. He looked jovial enough though. I reassured him that it was no reflection on his cooking: I usually don’t eat a lot. I made a good effort with my breakfast though, to placate him. I watched a little yellow weaver bird flitting around in the rafters and investigating the woven wicker lampshades, possibly with a view to adopting one as a ready made nest, A couple of pretty pied wagtails hopped around on the floor in search of crumbs. Then blow me down if four guinea fowl didn’t come strolling in, with their distinctive white spotted plumage. The waiter gently ushered them out. Jen, the receptionist came in to confirm my boat time. I mentioned the guinea fowl. She explained that they were four ladies and they were trying to find a male mate for them so that they could expand the population.
Then it was time to pack, get back on the boat to the mainland and go and join Francis, who was waiting for me. I could have opted to go by boat to Mumbo Island, which would only have taken about an hour and I was quite tempted to do this. But instead I decided to go by car, which would take 3 1/2 hours, so that I could see more of Malawi.
The road trip was interesting. We passed through numerous very small villages. Some had maybe only two or three houses, some had maybe fifteen or twenty. Many of them seemed to have a communal water pump, and this was always surrounded by a cluster of folk pumping away to fill their buckets. A lot of the houses were of mud with thatched roofs. Many were of red brick, with either thatched roofs or tin roofs.
On the road we saw many people walking, often with huge bundles and buckets etc on their heads, and with children strapped to their backs as well in the case of the women. Sturdy stock. Many people were cycling and Francis explained that some of the bikes were taxi bikes that people hired to get around, as they couldn’t afford their own bikes.
Unfortunately the villagers are not very friendly towards tourists and Francis got very nervous whenever I wanted to take a picture of anyone “because they can become aggressive”. We passed a small village which had the most stunning lush wetland scenery behind it. I asked him to stop so I could go and take a picture. Well I was immediately mobbed by about fifteen kids all reaching their hands out and demanding “money, money”. I took some snaps and then pulled out a five dollar note for them. On the way back to the car some adults said something to Francis and he said “No, no, she has already given five dollars to the children”. They scowled. The scenery was beautiful, but the atmosphere and attitude of the people was not.
We came to a village with busy market stalls on either side of the road. I wanted to get out and take pictures, but Francis would not let me. He told me to take pictures through the open car window, so that we could “get away quickly if they turn aggressive”. At one point I saw a woman carrying a simply enormous pile of firewood on her head. I told Francis to stop. I got out and smiled at her. I showed her my phone and asked if it was okay for me to take a picture. She took the wood off her head, threw it on the ground and spat. Charming. I told Francis that I didn’t understand their attitude. He said the villagers didn’t understand tourism and the benefits it could bring them. He said some of them believed the foreigners sold the pictures of them when they got home and so they resented not making any money themselves. For this reason he often handed over a few Kwacha to anyone I took a picture of, to appease them and to ensure they didn’t become “aggressive”. This was a word he used a lot, sadly.
We stopped at a museum Francis wanted to show me. I wasn’t really interested, but acquiesced to keep him happy. The main room was virtually empty, with just photographs on the walls and two dummies in local dress posed around a tea table. “Is this all there is?” I asked. “Not much of a museum. Let’s go”. I turned to go, but the curator said “No, please stop and I will show you all the masks”. Well that sparked my attention, since I have a collection of masks from all around the world. He opened a door and lo and behold there was a fabulous central array of masks of all colours and designs. I got my phone out but he said I was not allowed to take pictures. He said that each mask was numbered and there was an explanation of what it represented. I asked him what number 220 was. He and Francis looked for the explanation while I went to the opposite side of the display and surreptitiously took some snaps.
Next I was shown into their shop, which was full of carvings and trinkets. Just my kind of shop. I selected several items. But when I came to pay there was a problem. The bill came to USD57. I didn’t have that much in small notes, so I gave him a hundred dollar note. He had no change for it in dollars. He asked if I would accept change in Kwacha and I said no as I was only here for a couple more days. I asked if he would take payment by credit card, but he couldn’t as he didn’t have a machine. So we reached an impasse. Francis told him to keep the items for me. We could get some change by the lake and I could buy them on the way back.
Next we had to stop by a pharmacy. Here’s something they don’t mention on the websites for their lodges when they tell you about snorkelling in the crystal clear waters of the lake to see the myriad of brightly coloured cichlids-a particular type of small fish which are found in the lake. If you swim in the lake, you are highly likely to contract Bilharzia. The remedy for this is that you diarise six weeks from your last swim and then take some pills. Hence our trip to the pharmacy. I thought they would be easier to get here than in Dubai. I was given six enormous tablets and the pharmacist impressed upon me that I should take them all in one go and only after a very heavy dinner and then go to sleep. That sounded rather ominous. I doubt I shall be going in the lake to swim anyway. Although I have brought both of my masks and snorkels, and I did want to see the cichlids, the water is too damn cold.
We set off again until I spotted another craft market. So we stopped and I did some more shopping.
Finally we reached the lake shore and I climbed on board another boat. This took me to Mumbo Island. I was met by a young girl called Kerry, with several unseemly silver piercings in her face. She took me to the reception area and a welcome drink was arranged. She said breakfast was at eight. “From eight until when?” I asked. “At eight”. That’s not very amenable, I thought. Then she said I would be in a room on the far side of a small island in front of us. “Far side? It’s not a long walk is it?” She said it wasn’t too far and had a lovely lake view. I said I’d look at it.
The place, like all the other places I’ve stayed on this trip, was virtually empty. To get to the island we had to go down onto the beach and cross over the water on a fairly narrow wooden walkway with a loose bit of nylon rope strung along one side like a makeshift handrail but which wasn’t much in the way of support. I didn’t like it. The path through the island was narrow, uneven and difficult, obstructed by rocks and huge protruding tree roots. The thought of trying to navigate this lot in the dark was a definite no no. I would not be going back again for dinner. Then we got to the room, a flimsy shelter made from bamboo. The view over the lake was nice, but that was only thing that could be said for it. The bathroom was separate, along a narrow outside walkway and down some wooden steps. Aargh! Horrible. She showed me into the bathroom. There was what looked like a normal toilet, but I couldn’t see the flush button or handle. I asked her where it was. “Oh, there isn’t one. This is a composting toilet.” “A what? What on earth’s that?” She explained that you did what you wanted to do on the loo and could put some paper down it. Then you used the wooden scoop to get some wood shavings from the large basket next to it and just added these on top. Yuk I didn’t much like the idea of this. The shower was a tin bucket dangling from the ceiling on a nylon rope with a shower head protruding from the bottom of it. “We can bring you a bucket of warm water whenever you want a shower.” “Oh yes and I’ve got to go on a five mile hike and over that blasted gang plank to tell you that I want a bucket of water, as there’s no phone in the room. Great. Actually, is there any electricity in the room? I can’t see any switches”. “No, but we have little eco-torches. We’re an eco resort”. I explained that this just wasn’t really going to work for me. Surely they had something more conveniently located. No, she ran through the options and none of them appealed at all. Damnit! I ordered some wine and considered my position.
When she came back, I said I simply didn’t want to stay here. I would get the boat back to the mainland and find somewhere else there to stay. I was very disappointed. Kerry said she would contact my travel agents and also speak to the boat captain.
She returned with the unwelcome news that the boat captain said it was too late to go back to the mainland now, as it would mean him having to return in the dark. What?? Why on earth should that matter? Doesn’t the boat have any lights? I suspect he’s just being a lazy git. So I’m bloody stuck here for the night.
I get into my single bed (first time I’ve been in one of those in years) and fall fast asleep.I must have been spark out, because when I wake up someone has been in and put the mosquito netting down all around me. Kerry comes back later to bring me some bloody eco torches and asks if I’m coming to dinner.No I say, it’s too much effort to get there and back.She goes and brings me some food.After that I settle down for the night with my door wide open, a breeze coming in everywhere through the bamboo walls and roof and the delicious sound of lapping water all around me.
Malawi Day 6
I wake up early and lounge in bed for a few hours listening to the waves. I managed to get to the loo in the night without breaking my neck, which was surprising. Perhaps I could stay here for just one more night? Nah. At 8 Kerry arrived with a guy carrying a breakfast tray for me. Apparently I needed to get down to the boat around ten to nine. Apparently they are moving me to a beach cottage in Cape Maclear. I said I would like to take a shower and was told someone would come up with a bucket of hot water for me. Well he didn’t come back with the water for about half an hour! I hadn’t touched my breakfast as I didn’t want to be interrupted in the middle of it. So by the time I’d showered and dressed, Kerry was back to chivvy me down to the boat and with a guy to carry my bags. Now I was really looking forward to getting off this island. And then calamity struck.
I was just walking off the deck at the front of my room and joining the nasty uneven pathway again. Well I really don’t know what happened. I just stepped down onto the path. I don’t know if I stepped into an uneven bit or whether my foot landed awkwardly. But I jarred my right knee really badly. Ouch, that really hurt! I didn’t fall over, just felt like my knee was totally scrunched. My new knee. I couldn’t walk for a few minutes. Then I tried to hobble slowly down the path, hanging on to the trees on either side of me for support (hoping there were no vipers coiled around them) and stopping frequently because it hurt. When we got to the gangplank, it did finally occur to Kerry that she should probably take my hand to steady me. We got to the boat and I climbed in for the 45 minute trip to the mainland.
When we got back to the beach it looked like half the people in Malawi were doing their washing in the lake. They were washing themselves, their clothes, bedsheets and big bowls full of crockery, cutlery and pots and pans.
The owner or manager of the resort came out to meet me at the boat and to escort me to the cottage. My knee had started to stiffen up by now and I could barely walk, so he had to help me. Ironic, because he had had an amputation and had a prosthetic on his right leg. He said “I can see why you might have found the terrain difficult on the island. It would be a little tough for anyone with impaired mobility.” I said “I didn’t have impaired mobility until about an hour ago. I had two new knees in November, but they were working fine until I stepped off the deck and onto the pathway this morning. I don’t know what I’ve done, but I really hope I haven’t somehow damaged my new knee.”
Well the lakeside cottage is nice. Comfortable enough and with a great location. I rested for a bit and then thought that I’d try and go out to the little craft stalls in the street behind the cottage that they’d told me about. But I had to abort that as I simply couldn’t walk. A couple of the stallholders brandished carved wooden walking sticks at me and asked if I wanted to buy them! Oh hell, I feel like an invalid again.
I struggled back to the cottage and haven’t been out since. I can barely make it from the bed to the bathroom. My right knee just gives way and collapses when I try to walk on it. Oh misery. I do hope I haven’t damaged my new knee. I’ll have to order a bloody wheelchair for Dubai airport again tomorrow. Oh, I can’t-no phone and no internet. The trip coming here from Dubai was actually the first time in several years I had walked through the airport without needing a wheelchair and I was so happy that I could do that. I’ll just have to hope that my knee’s better in the morning after a rest.😪😪😪
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