Advertisement
Published: February 18th 2005
Ingredients for a good game walk:
* A game reserve in the middle of nowhere, that no-one on the truck has visited (including both drivers) and it seems, almost no-one at all has visited recently (unmanned entry gates, overhanging branches on roads and a very overgrown campsite.)
* A guide with an AK47 (or some such) and a nice green beret to offer some modicum of sartorial authority.
* A gathering storm
* A herd of elephants making their way along the lake-shore to the campsite, forcing us to spend the first 45 minutes walking along a dirt road
* Poachers, firing an elephant gun, (or some such) nearby
A herd of perplexed overlanders, standing around in the bush, unarmed and slightly tense, as the guide goes off to chase the poachers, and the first drops of rain arrive.
* A fantastic walk back along the lake shore, in yet another torrential African downpour, watching hippos yawning aggressively (neat trick this, try it), impalas scattering before us and the most prolonged bolt of lightning I have ever seen landing right on top of where we think our campsite ought to be.
* Returning to
Sunrise, Lake Malawi
Woke up to the reddest sunset ever across the lake, but by the time I got my camera it was too late. Sun sure rises and falls quickly round here.the campsite to find all is well, and that sponge cake (cinnamon or chocolate) has been baked in our absence, on a charcoal stove protected from the rain by a metal table, and the camp protected from the foraging elephants by the fact that the cooks were Australian, and elephants know not to mess with Australians.
It occurs to me, dear reader, that one may feel that I am exaggerating, but I’m not. Every (daily) thunderstorm really is the biggest and most frightening I have ever been in, and every bolt of lightning is the brightest, nearest and scariest. And it doesn’t seem to stop.
After leaving Dar and spending two long days heading southwest for a thousand kilometres through the Tanzanian highlands we arrived in Malawi, camping that night at Lake Malawi. No-one seemed really sure what to do in Malawi. We had two weeks, whilst most trucks seemed to spend only a week, whizzing through with a brief stop by the lake. Even our experienced drivers were a bit perplexed, particularly as most of the attractions require negotiating lengthy dirt roads, and this is very much the wet season.
In fact fortune and the
weather appear to have favoured the brave, and Malawi has been fantastic. After a first night and morning in stifling heat on the lake’s edge, with no breeze, the thunderstorms have arrived to clear the air and we have had great weather. We decided to visit the often overlooked Vwaza Game Reserve which, after the conveyer-belt feeling of the Tanzanian game-reserves, added a feeling of adventure, which is what we got. And it was good just to get out of the truck and walk, whatever the weather.
After our drenching, the rains cleared, and Paul the driver, Kim and I headed to an advantageous point by the lake shore to take sunset photographs. I was busy faffing with my tripod under a shelter when Kim, stood on a concrete BBQ by the lake, turned to Paul and with a shocked expression and said “What do we do now?” From my angle I couldn’t see what she was pointing at, so I moved forward, and there was a #@$%& big elephant, not 20 metres away, and approaching, in a nonchalant elephant-type way.
We retreated to the shelter, and I hid behind Paul’s leg, as the elephant walked in front
of us and started to munch. It seemed fairly happy and so we sat and watched, in awe. The advantage of digital compact cameras became immediately apparent - I had set Kim’s to shoot silently to save batteries. Since the sound of the mirror-slap on my EOS 20D resembles the clunk of an idea dawning in Homer’s brain I refrained from taking any photos. Paul’s film EOS 300 was much quieter so he fired a quick shot, which seemed almost silent … but Nelly responded by turning towards us with her ears wide and her trunk raised … despite the language difference we understood clearly, and Nelly was able to continue her munching for a further few minutes, until she wandered off to bother the cook crew in the campsite.
In short Vwaza was a great, unexpected and exiting interlude between the beaches of Zanzibar and the beaches of Lake Malawi.
Kande Beach was started by an overland truck driver back in the mists of time who, I guess, just said “this is nice, think I’ll live here”. Knowing and satisfying the needs of overland truckers and their drivers, a thriving business has been established.
Kande also
gave us the chance to further our dive training by completing three modules from our Advanced Open Water Course - Altitude (the lake is at 700m), Deep and Navigation. During the altitude dive we got the chance to explore the area and the cichlids (tropical freshwater fish unique to African lakes … mainly Tanganyika and Malawi). In my limited diving experience I’ve found I really love freshwater diving. I’m not sure why … one reason I think is that I’m not that bothered if I don’t see exciting things … I just like the experience of being down there, floating in this other world. I also guess that freshwater is nearer to the rivers and lakes of my childhood, and there is something exciting about exploring this once familiar terrain in a different way … in the sea you expect to see lots of exciting fish, coral, sunken galleons and treasure etc … but freshwater just seems closer to home. Ok, I’m babbling … suffice to say we both enjoyed it.
The deep dive was fantastic … going down to a depth of 30m+ is simply an experience in itself. I was a little disconcerted at first … when
Nelly
Elephant, taken on foot by Kim at 38mm equivalent focal length. (Sorry it is a bit dark - it looks fine on the camera screen). we hit the bottom I kept hearing a beeping in my head and was quite concerned. On our ascent, when I was still hearing it at 15m, I realized it was the instructor’s digital watch, beeping out seconds to ensure we didn’t stay too long. At the bottom the instructor cracked open a raw egg. The water pressure caused the yoke to stay together, with the white forming a sphere around it. He wiped away the white leaving an almost solid yoke, the surface tension so strong that I was able to spin it around on my finger like a basketball.
Underwater navigation, whilst carried out at a much shallower depth, was also absorbing an enjoyable. The “natural navigation” (using underwater features without a compass) felt a lot like orienteering (except without a map), and the exercises we did gave us a first taste of what it might be like to dive without simply following an instructor or dive-master … the first glimpses of independence.
I can highly recommend the Aquanuts, (+265 (01) 357 276), the dive school at Kande Beach. In particular, it is ideally setup for training and is very cheap.
On departing Kande Paul
the passenger did a check of the washing lines and found a pair of my underpants, cardboard dry and crumpled. Just as I was putting them in the locker I noticed what looked like an owl-pellet inside. To the hilarity of my fellow passengers (mostly female) it turned out to be a sleeping bat. After a bit of stroking I tried to deposit it in a bush, concerned that bats do carry rabies … when after showing no signs of life for a good five minutes it suddenly launched into the air, carried out a couple of strafing runs before heading off, no doubt in pursuit of more desirable underwear.
Malawi is ranked as one of the world’s ten poorest countries, with one of the highest infant mortality rates going. Being here it is hard to imagine as the country appears extremely fertile but as ever appears to be the victim of political mismanagement and short-termism.
One is lead to wondering how one measures the poverty of a nation. No doubt the standard measure is something like gross domestic product per capita. After being here I prefer to measure it in metres … how many metres will a
hawker chase a moving truck in pursuit of a sale? Normally I would say it is unusual for the 100m barrier to be passed, but on leaving Zomba plateau we were pursued downhill for a good 400m by a young chap earnestly holding aloft a bowl of local strawberries as if in a 70’s Martini advert, shouting entreaties every step of the way. After a while even the most lethargic passengers started to query “what’s that noise?” The whole incident led me to wonder if the “egg and spoon race,” beloved of school sports days, may have some darker colonial past. Hawking in Malawi is a competitive business indeed, as this laddie only just managed to outpace a rival, desperately clutching a similarly sized bowl of potatoes.
It has to be said the Malawians we have met have been more insistent in their appeals for money. I guess this is not surprising, as apart from Kande, we have seen no other trucks here, and minimal tourists other than overlanders. As part of our cultural readjustment we spent a night at a local village eating a meal prepared by the villagers, and participating in the after dinner dance with the
Quidditch
Kande orphanage style kids. Whilst the village elders were with us all appeals for cash stopped, but once they were out of sight the “I’m saving for my college degree” stories came out. It is hard to tell. On another day we visited an orphanage 30 minutes walk down the beach from Kande. This orphanage was perhaps unusual (I’m not sure) in that it was run by a Malawian couple (as opposed to expat-westerners). Their small school-room/dormitory/kitchen building catered for about 15 kids around 8 - 15. These kids were extremely well behaved and well disciplined, and performed some belting songs for us that would have silenced Simon Cowell. We played various schoolyard games in the sand (including stick-in-the-mud, which led to me tipping over several tiny chaps whilst trying to crawl through their legs) and then left, leaving nothing. I was not entirely sure about this, but the next day we managed to find a mosquito-net to donate … not all the kids in the dormitory had one. It was felt this was better than offering money, since the local (non-orphan) kids will often prioritise internet time or batteries for their walkman ahead of a mosquito net, and consequently suffer by contracting
Malaria regularly.
After two days at Kande, we hit the road again, south into the Malawian outlier that is surrounded on three sides of Mozambique. We were heading for Mount Mulanje, a 2000m+ granite plateau on the Mozambique border where alpine style walking was to be had, if the weather was good, which we were told was a less than evens chance. As it was the gods were kind and five of us spent two days hiking on the plateau staying overnight in an Tasmanian style hut (less amenities than the alpine version). This was virgin territory for Exodus, at least as far as we were aware.
The mountains were spectacular, and unlike anything we expected from Africa, being some kind of cross between Scotland, Yosemite and Tasmania. The colonial legacy left a dwindling supply of the native mountain cedar, and a surfeit of pine, which whilst incongruous made for pleasant walking. On the 1400m climb up to the plateau we were passed by locals balancing one or two 8m cedar planks on their heads, carrying them down these treacherous trails for a mere 50 kwatcha ( half a U.S. dollar ) each.
When we arrived at
the hut we were quite surprised to find two groups of Europeans there before us (a Swede and a Spanish couple), particularly as the Park Ranger had told us no other groups were on the mountain at that time. I guess our shock was not as great as theirs, as what must have seemed like five English football hooligans turning up to destroy their peace. The Ranger, who had been more than happy to collect our fees, had told us the hut was furnished with sleeping mats, so we didn’t bring any. It turned out there were only four, all of which were in use. The local climbing club had a locker in the hut, full of sleeping mats and secured by bolts and padlocks. I guess they reckoned without a wiley old lag, who for some bizarre reason hiked up 2000m with the largest pair of pliers you have ever seen. The locks were quickly dispatched in front of the slightly perturbed Swede and the slightly upset caretaker and all was well - at least for us. As it was, everyone was happy the next day when all was restored in good order and we all parted with good
smiles.
The weather was kind enough for us to sleep out under the eaves of the hut, no flying insects at that altitude. At 5.00am I was sat atop a hill with a 360 degree panorama watching a photographically dull, but otherwise stunning, sunrise.
So that was Malawi, varied, unexpected and exiting … tomorrow, Zambia and another big game park.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.06s; Tpl: 0.016s; cc: 8; qc: 24; dbt: 0.0246s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
anonymous
non-member comment
Fantastic!
Hi Richard and Kim Love reading about your adventures. Really interesting and entertaining. Great photos too. Keep the blogs coming. :-) May have to start one of my own for New Zealand in March! Ceri - Ceri Williams