From the Malawi border, I take a shared taxi to the first proper town, Karonga. I'm squeezed into the back seat with two women, a man, and two children. They're remarkably cheerful at the addition of this large, sweaty foreigner to their vehicle, though one woman's opening comment to me, in lieu of a greeting, is that I should give some money to her child. Later in the journey she tells me I have such soft skin, accompanied by a gratuitous fondle of my upper arm, and I recommend to her Aveeno daily moisturising lotion with natural colloidal oatmeal. My arrival in Malawi now means I have to turn to the Southern Africa section of the WLP, a sign that I am slowly making progress towards my rendezvous with Cape Town at the end of the
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