When the clock stopped

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Lake Malawi takes up 20 percent of the total area of Malawi, at the southern tip of Africa's Great Rift Valley.

The shoreline of the Lake is one of the most beautiful in the world. The trip I took on the Ilala ferry, along the lake shore to the island of Likoma, was a highlight of my time in Malawi.

The Ilala carried me to isolated villages in its own sedate fashion. It's not a tourist service. It's an essential life line for the small villages that line the lake. The timetable published by Malawi Lake Services is a work of fiction. Bustling crowds emerge from the little villages that line the lake to meet the ferry. It can take a long time for supplies and people to be loaded and unloaded.

The Ilala ferry has been making its way up and down Lake Malawi for over 70 years. In that time little looks to have changed. It's as if the Ilala is a time machine, not a ferry. Or, maybe I entered a strange land where the clocks had stopped. More of that later.

I'm aware that I rushed through Malawi. There are other places I would have liked to have visited. At the top of that list would be Njobvu cultural village, which is a community initiative - the money goes to the locals.

At the end of the last blog I was still in Nampula, Mozambique. I had just bought a train ticket to Cuamba, which is a town near the border with Malawi. I had a very early start in the morning to catch the train on Saturday 17th of September.

SATURDAY 17th SEPTEMBER

I left my hotel at 3.30am. I had been told that I had to be on the train before 4am. The train I was catching had at one time gone all the way to the border. But, it now only goes as far as the town of Cuamba. The track beyond Cuamba is broken, and no one has the money to repair the broken track. I had booked into a first class carriage. On the platform it wasn't very clear, which carriages were meant to be first class. So, I had to ask someone. Although it was supposed to be first class, the rolling stock was old and shabby. My carriage was an old fashioned sleeper that held four people. I shared my carriage with 2 Americans and a local Malawian. The local guy worked on the telecommunications infrastructure in the country. He was traveling upcountry for work purposes. Although I had been told to be on the train before 4am, it didn't actually leave till 5.30am. I managed to sleep for the first few hours of the journey.

I woke to the sight of a whole village meeting the train at a station. The same thing happened at all the villages we stopped at. There were considerable stop overs at each station because there was a lot of stuff to be loaded and unloaded. It was an amazing spectacle. I managed to swap a book with one of the American tourists. They had a much tighter schedule than me. The Americans had avoided the long road trip to Nampula - they had flown into Nampula, in order to visit Ilha de Mocambique. They were also intending to try to cross the border into Malawi the same day. I wasn't going to make any attempt to try to get to Malawi the same day. It was my intention to spend the night in Cuamba, and then dash for the border in the morning.

The train rolled into Cuamba at about 2.30pm. Cuamba is a small dusty town. Even the main road in town is untarred. Despite that it still has a bank with an ATM that accepts international debit and credit cards. Not only that, the post office in town, which is a very run down looking building has one computer with a functioning internet connection. I walked around town for about half an hour, eventually finding a hotel. The hotel, Vision 2000, that I booked into was very overpriced. It cost the equivalent of $US35. A rip off for a place that was shabby and didn't have a reliable supply of electricity or water! The water supply turned on at 6pm for a couple of hours. The electric cut off without warning at 7pm for 1 hour. But, I couldn't be bothered looking for anything else. I don't think they expect many tourists. The booking in form asks for the company that you are working for. What guests they get, I suspect they expect to be on company business. Not only was the hotel shabby but the food in the hotel restaurant was tasteless. I went to bed early, I had another early start in the morning.

SUNDAY 18th SEPTEMBER

I walked to the train station in the pitch dark at 5am. I wanted to catch an early bus or pick up truck to a border post, either Entre Lagos or Mandiba. Entre Lagos was the closer border post but I had been told that not a lot of transport passed through it. I didn't really care, I was prepared to take the first transport that was going to either border post. Whilst I was hanging around the area in front of the train station a man told me that a minibus had just left a few minutes before I had arrived. I only had to wait another couple of minutes before another minibus arrived. This bus was going to Mandiba, so I got on. It moved off very soon after I got on. It drove around in circles around the town for over half an hour picking up passengers. Whilst we were stopped on the street picking someone up, the security guy from the hotel that I had just left appeared. He had chased after me because I had left some stuff in my room. The hotel security guard handed me my torch and the book that I had swapped with one of the Americans on the train, through the bus window. Neither of the items were valuable but it would have been annoying to lose them. I've lost lots of small items over the past 10 months - most often I forget my towel.

The road to the border was very bad - it was a very dusty dirt track. I arrived in the border town at about 8am. When I got out of the bus I was mobbed by a gang of money changers and push bike taxi's. I moved a money changer out of the road into a road side cafe - so I could change some money. I had no intention of trying to change money surrounded by a mob. I changed some money and then got on one of the push bikes. It was several km's to the border post. The thin guy who was peddling struggled up the hills. He was also forced off the dirt track several times by speeding trucks. I got off the bike at the first border post to stamp myself out of Mozambique. Then I had to climb back onto the back of the bike for another 7km journey to the other border post. Although it was early, it was already hot, so I think my bike taxi earned his money.

Once I had dealt with the formalities at the Malawian border post I was recruited into a pick up truck. His initial price was outrageous. So, I got out of the truck and walked away. As a result he halved his price. Border crossings are always difficult. The touts that hang around border posts are vultures. They know, that you probably don't know what the proper price is, for things.

The pick up took me to the town of Mangoochi. At Mangoochi, I got into a bus. It was an old shabby bus going to Blantyre. Blantyre is a major industrial town in the south of Malawi. It was a long journey. I left Mangoochi at about 10am, arriving in Blantyre at about 3pm. The roads were much better than any I had seen in Mozambique - they were actually tarred. Although the bus did struggle climbing some of the hills on the route, there were times when I sure he was driving in first.

The bus didn't go to to the centre of Blantyre. It dropped me off in Limbe, which is about 5km's from the centre. So, in Limbe I was transferred onto an overcrowded minibus, which finally delivered me to the centre of the city. I walked around the city centre for a few minutes and walked into a very expensive hotel - Le Meridien. It cost me $US150.

MONDAY 19th

I had no intention of paying Le Meridien's inflated prices for more than one night. The price didn't even include breakfast. Their price for breakfast was totally outrageous at 1500 Kwacha ($US10), I wasn't the least tempted.

I walked around the city centre and found a restaurant to have breakfast for 300 Kwacha (about $US2). After breakfast I visited the very unhelpful tourist office and bought some US dollars from a Bureau de Change. I then walked around looking for alternative places to stay. I followed a sign for Kabula Lodge. But when I got there I found a front gate that was locked. There was no bell, and no one was around. So, I turned around and walked back to the city centre. I found the Eclipse Lodge almost next door to Le Meridien. It was $US80 a night, and was a much nicer place for half the price. So, I booked into the Eclipse Lodge and then returned to Le Meridien to book out.

I was shocked to find that the bill they presented me with was for far too much. Someone had charged $US40 in alcoholic drinks to my bill. I hadn't been near their bar. $40 is a lot of booze. After I complained they removed the $40 from my bill. But, the question is how did that $40 get on my bill. I was not impressed. Maybe they think everyone that books into Le Meridien in Blantyre is on a company expense account and don't check their bills. I don't know. I would suggest that no one go near that place. Not only did they try to rip me off, but the place is not actually that nice. It's certainly not worth $150 a night. The rooms have cheap and dirty fitted carpets, and the air conditioning is old. Le Meridien is part of an international chain, avoid! I don't understand why international chain hotels insists on putting cheap fitted carpets in rooms in tropical countries. Floor tiles, and rugs would be a much better option.

I moved my stuff to the Eclipse Lodge, then walked into town for lunch. After lunch I bought a new SIM card for my cellphone and did some research on the internet. Whilst on the internet I took the chance to formally complain to Le Meridiens head office. They sent me a standard E-mail a couple of days later, I've heard nothing since and they haven't dealt with my complaint properly. When I'm paying $150 I expect a lot more than from a $10 a night flea pit. In the evening I had a very good meal in the Eclipse Lodge.

TUESDAY 20th SEPTEMBER

I pottered around in my room till 10am. I then checked out and walked to the bus stop, only to discover that the bus I wanted didn't leave from there. I was intending to go to Zomba. Zomba is a small town, that used to be the administrative capital of Malawi until the 1970's, when a new capital was built. I had to walk back towards the city centre and catch a minibus to Limbe. At Limbe I then caught another minibus to to Zomba. I arrived in Zomba at about midday. I booked into Ndindeya Motel for 800 MK ($US6). A shabby hotel, but good value for the price. I walked around the town. Although it is an ex capital it is a very quiet town, except around the market. The streets are wide and tree lined, and its surrounded by very scenic mountains.

WEDS 21st SEPTEMBER

I wanted to get to Monkey Bay in order to book myself onto the Ilala. The Ilala leaves Monkey Bay on a Friday morning traveling North on Lake Malawi. I left Zomba at 9am catching an old proper bus (not a minibus). Very unusually for Africa the bus left the station with seats still unfilled, although it filled up as we travelled. By the time we got to Liwonde it filled up, to the more usual over packed condition, that I expect on journeys in Africa. I only paid for a ticket to Mangochi, I thought I might stay there for the night. In Mangoochi, I walked around, stopping to look at various possible places to spend the night. I didn't like any of them. It was very hot. As I was walking around I saw an Ice Cream Parlour and restaurant, so I stopped off there and had some lunch and an ice cream. At this stage I had decided not to stay in Mangochi.

So, I walked back towards the bus station. Near the bus station I was recruited onto a pick up truck that was going to Monkey Bay. It was 2pm when I left Mangochi. I was on the back of the truck, not in the cabin, so it was an uncomfortable ride. Up until this stage the roads in Malawi had been good. But, after Mangochi the roads got worse. Parts of the route were tarred, but much of the road was little more than a dirt track. So, I spent a couple of hours bouncing around on the back of the truck.

I arrived in Monkey Bay at 3.3pm. When I got off the pick up I saw another pick up which had the name of a local backpackers on the side. I asked the driver, to give me a lift to the backpackers - Venice Beach, which is a couple of km from the centre of town. It cost me about $US6 for a single room with a shared bathroom. There weren't many people staying in the backpackers.

THURSDAY 22nd SEPTEMBER

I got up at sunrise to take the photo of sunrise you see on this blog. I walked into town with one of the staff from Venice Beach. He helped me negotiate my way around the booking process for the Ilala ferry. We were pushed from pillar to post, I spoke to at least 3 different people in 3 different offices before I got my ticket. I booked myself a cabin on the ferry. It was very expensive, it cost me about 10,000 MK. That's for a cabin that I would have to share, with shared toilets and bathroom. There are even more expensive "owners" cabins with private bathroom - they cost over 20000 MK per person for a shared room. I could have got much cheaper tickets. The next class down, 1st class, was half the price of the cabin class. 2nd Class is half the price of 1st class, and finally 3rd class is half the price of 2nd class. But, they don't sell tickets in advance for 3rd class - in 3rd class they keep selling places - as on Malawi's buses they can always find more space.

I walked back to Venice Beach at 10am - it was already hot.

Later I got a lift back into town because I wanted to exchange a book. After exchanging the book I had a drink in a local bar, and then went for lunch. I returned to the beach on the back of a push bike taxi. When I got back to Venice Beach, I found that there were a lot more people in the lodge. A number of people had arrived in order to catch the ferry in the morning. Most of the others hadn't booked a cabin, in fact a couple of people at the backpackers were intending to travel 3rd class.

FRIDAY 23rd SEPTEMBER

We left as a group from Venice Beach at 8.30am, on the back of the hostels pick up truck. I walked onto the boat without delay, the others had to buy tickets. The Ilala was timetabled to leave at 10am, but in fact didn't leave till 10.30am. A couple of people from Venice Beach saved themselves a lot of money by buying 3rd class tickets, but I suspect they got no sleep. Up on the deck a woman said that she recognized me. Claudia had been at Maxixe, in Mozambique waiting for the bus. She is on the road for 4 months, but has been travelling on and off for 7 years - taking breaks to earn money.

I was expecting to be sharing a cabin, but when I got on there was no sign of anyone. Finally an Austrian man came on board at about 4pm, when we pulled in to port, at Chipoka.

The cabins were very expensive - they weren't worth the amount that they cost. I went to bed early at about 9am. I was woken up a couple of times in the night, when the ferry pulled into port, by the noise of people getting on and off the boat. On the first day the boat hadn't been very full, but in the morning it was packed down in the bowels of 3rd class.

SATURDAY 24th SEPTEMBER

Yesterday the lake had been as flat as a pancake, but when I got up in the morning there was a considerable wind and quite a swell on the lake. It actually felt like we were on the water. Basically I spent the day relaxing on the deck. As we arrived in various ports I watched the ferry being loaded and unloaded. Generally, everything had to be unloaded by small life boats. We were stopping at villages which didn't have specialized port facilities - we dropped anchor some distance away from the sandy beaches. Our 2 little lifeboats were then dropped down into the water to carry people and goods back and forth to the beaches. Sometimes we were also met by little dug canoes and sail boats. Every time that we arrived in a port we were met by an excited crowd from the village - the ferry is very important to all the villages that it visits. The scene we watched was the same as it would have been 70 odd years ago, as if the clock stopped back then.

There was a sort of class stratification on board. The first class deck and the cabins were occupied overwhelmingly by white tourists. Although there were 3 passengers in first and cabin class that were non white. 2 tourists and a reporter working for a Mozambique radio station.

3rd class was packed with locals, except for the 2 tourists from Venice Beach who were counting their pennies. The second class deck, though was nearly empty!

The Ilala was supposed to get to Likoma Island at 5pm, if the fictional timetable was to be believed. Of course, with the time it took to get stuff on board, there was no chance of us being at Likoma on time. Not that it mattered.

In fact we finally dropped anchor at about midnight.

The staff on the boat told us not to get on the ship's little life boats. They told us that there was a boat specifically coming to take us to the islands guest houses.

So, most of us got on the boat that arrived from the island. It was taking people to Kaya Maya and Mango Drift. Kaya Maya is the upmarket resort on the opposite side of the island to the place where the Ilala drops anchor. Mango Drift is the budget place a little further down the coast from Kaya Maya. We were all intending to stay at Mango Drift. I was glad that the swell had died down, as the boat we were transported on was very small, and the journey seemed to take forever. It was pitch black, we had no lights, and I wasn't sure how the guy who was driving the boat knew where the hell we were!

But, finally the boat stopped. We all had to jump from the boat over a stretch of water to the sand. The sand was wet and gritty. It got between the soles of my feet and my sandals. It felt uncomfortable running along the beach to the lodge. The bits of pebbles and sand felt huge against my feet. We were also running along the beach blind - it was pitch dark. There was no light at the lodge. I later learned that the electricity on the island is turned off at 10pm.

We arrived at the lodge bar, whose only light came from a mini hi-fi system, powered by a battery charged by a solar panel during the day.

I chose to take one of the bungalows, so I staggered off into the dark with a guide from the lodge. The room only cost 550 Kwatcha.

SUNDAY 25th

I was up and about at sunrise but spent the morning hanging around doing very little. One of the things that was unusual was that there were no locks on the bungalows or on anything else on the island. The island is traffic and crime free. At midday I walked into the main town on the island with 3 Americans; a couple Pam and Jonathan and Paul. We nearly took a wrong turning, but found our way in with the help of a map of the island. Paul had taken a photo of a map, he read the map from his digital camera.

As we walked towards the cathedral we were met my a man who was drunk. He led us to the church. At the church door we were met by Vincent the verger, who was resplendent in his clerical robes. He took us on a tour of the cathedral of which he is very proud. It's a very large and elaborate church, built by local craftsmen to the plans of missionaries 100 years ago.

After our church tour we walked around the market, Paul bought some bread, and then we had lunch of rice and beans, which only cost us 70 Kwatcha. The people on the island were very friendly. They are very isolated, they haven't seen that many tourists, so haven't learned the scams that are common in tourist honey pots.

After lunch we set out to find a dance festival that locals had told us about. It was a much longer walk than we had expected. It was at the northern tip of the island at the local primary school. On our way to the dance festival we stopped to watch a local football match. Finally after a long and hot walk we made it to the womens dance festival. It was well worth the walk. The dancing and the music was sublime.

On the way back, we got a bit lost. We we so busy talking about how useless George W. Bush is; that we missed our turning on the path. So, it was George W's fault that we got lost. Something else he's guilty of! We did finally find our way back with the help of a local woman at about 6pm.

At 7pm we had supper at Mango Drift then spent the night in the bar getting very drunk. A group of us stayed up very late - it was the first time in a very long time that I've stayed up that late.

MONDAY 26th

After yesterday I took it easy. I got up late, and lounged around all day. Everyone also went to bed early! Everyone was intending to move on. Some were intending to go to Chizumula island, others to move into town. I hadn't made up my mind. But in the evening a member of the staff told me that there was a flight going from the island for $US70. I told him that I was interested. I arranged with him that we would walk to Kaya Maya, the upmarket lodge first thing in the morning to check the details.

TUESDAY 27th

First thing in the morning I walked to Kaya Maya to check the details of the flight. It was leaving at 10am for Lilwongwe, the capital of Malawi. I told them that I would be on the flight, walked back to Mango Drift and had breakfast.

At 8.30am I walked back to Kaya Maya and hung around the bar nursing a Coca Cola until it was time to leave. There were 3 of us plus the pilot. We left the island's airstrip at 10.25am, turning steeply over the islands harbour. The flight took about 50 minutes.

When I arrived at Lilongwe airport I checked the price of a taxi with several drivers - they all quoted the same price. I thought it was expensive, but I couldn't get them to drop their price. So, I took a taxi anyway to Kiboko Camp, an over landers camp-site and lodge about one km from the centre of town. Kiboko camp was a lot more expensive than Mango Drift had been. I opted for a bungalow, which set me back 1800 Kwatcha.

I walked into town to do some shopping and have lunch. I was tempted to get a taxi back because it was hot. But, the driver quoted 500 Kwatcha. So, I got out of his car, and told him I would walk. He dropped the price to 400. It didn't make any difference. I told him I would walk anyway. I was punishing him for quoting an obviously inflated price. I didn't need the taxi. He might have needed my money. Frankly, I tend to avoid taxi's. It seems that taxi drivers all over the world go to the same school - where they learn to overcharge tourists! Later I checked back at the lodge. The proper price for that journey was 300 Kwatcha, nearly half what he had quoted. Although it was hot, it was only a one km walk to Kiboko Camp.

WEDS 28th

I decided to move into the centre of town. So, I booked out of Kiboko Camp and moved to Kiboko Town Hotel. I didn't do much all day. But I had some very vivid dreams at night. I wasn't sure if the dreams had anything to do with the anti-malarial drugs that I am now taking. I've been on Mefloquine Hydrochloride for the past 4 weeks, otherwise known in the UK by the trade name Larium. It's well known to cause side effects, although I have taken the drug before. I used Mefloquine the last time I was in East Africa, 6 years ago. It had no effect on me then. And this is the first time that I've suspected that it may have had any effect on me so far. I kept trying to wake myself from my dream - only realizing I hadn't woken up when something surreal happened. I did eventually manage to wake myself up, in the middle of the night. I couldn't and didn't want to go back to sleep. Anyway, it hasn't happened again as I type this 8 days later. Oh, and I bought the drug without a doctors prescription in Africa. It's a drug that is strictly controlled in the UK, it has caused depression in a small minority of people. Vivid dreams are its most benign side effect.

THURSDAY 29th

I decided to start making my way towards the northern border of Malawi. So, first thing in the morning I checked out the bus times at the bus depot for Shire Bus lines, opposite the Shoprite supermarket. The woman told me that the bus would leave the main bus station at 11am. I also noticed first thing that it had rained during the night. Probably a good thing, as Malawi has been suffering a drought for the past 4 years. Malawi is yet another country in the region that has a food security problem. As many as 4 million will be at risk when the hungry season starts in December.

So, at 10.30am I booked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to the bus station. Of course the bus didn't arrive at 11am. It came at 11.30am. So, I hung around the station. It wasn't a pleasant spot. The station is just behind the market, which is a thieves paradise. All the hotels have warnings about the area. The station has 4 bus shelter rows, which are old and shabby and smell of piss. My intention was to travel north towards the border stopping at a couple of places on the way.

I caught a bus to the town of Mzuzu. It was another long journey, but the roads were fairly good and the bus comfortable (for Africa). It was the luxury service - that's a relative term! It meant that I had a whole seat to myself! I got into Mzuzu at about 4pm. Mzuzu is Malawi's 3rd city. But, its actually not very big, and feels like a small town. The main drag through town past the banks is pretty. The street is wide and when I was there the trees were in bloom with bright purple blossom.

I avoided the taxi touts, and found a hotel close to the bus station. The Hotel Chanda was well overpriced - it cost 4000 Kwatcha, it was far too shabby to be worth what I paid.

FRIDAY 30th

I was intending to go to a little town called Chitimba. It's a small village on Lake Malawi with a pretty beach. I didn't go. I changed my mind. I caught a packed minibus that was going to Karonga. My intention was to get off the bus at Chitimba. But when the bus passed through the town I changed my mind and carried on to the border town of Karonga.

I got into Karonga at 2pm. I decided to stay the night and make my way to the border first thing in the morning. Karonga is about 30km's from the Tanzanian border post. It's a small, dusty town. It does though have a beach. I was also surprised to find that it had a bank with an ATM that took VISA cards, even if it did lack decent places to eat. Although the restaurant in the lodge I stayed in was passable. I booked into the MUFW Beach Lodge, which was on the beach front. It cost me a mere 800 Kwatcha for a room with a bathroom. But, the place was full of mosquito's. The room had a mosquito net. It needed it. Once the sun set the mosquito's lined up on the outside of the net. There were never less than a dozen of them sat on the net. Some of them even managed to get inside the net - I chased them down and killed them. I'm not sure how they got inside - for once in Africa the net looked like it didn't have holes in it. But there were so many of them laying siege, keen to suck my blood, that a few got through. It was also a very hot uncomfortable night. I didn't sleep much.

SATURDAY 1st OCTOBER

I got up early at 6.30am. At breakfast I chatted with an American who was a Peace Corps volunteer. It was an interesting conversation. He said he had learned a lot in his time in Malawi, including that starvation is not about lack of food - there is plenty in the markets. It's about poverty. People die of poverty. Food prices go up. The poor can't afford to eat.

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