Almost Paradise (Part II of Cape Maclear)

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After checking in for our 3 beds in the dorm, we entered the room and were greeted by 3 girls who go to Michigan State. One is even from Livonia (I realize the wonder of this moment will only be appreciated by a few of you)! They’re here, along with 2 guys from New Brunswick (Canada, not New Jersey), for summer internships.
Desperately hungry, as it was now approaching 2pm, Dave, Megan and I walked along the beach in search of food. We passed women doing laundry in the water, kids splashing around, but very few tourists. We saw a few as we passed Gecko Lounge, but for the most part, we only saw Malawians.
We decided on Mgoza for lunch. They had an open area above the bar, kind of like the tree house where Jo, Lisa and I had lunch in Penang, Malaysia, but much bigger and therefore not quite as cool. Plus there were stairs instead of having to actually climb a ladder up the tree.
We all ordered the same sandwich – tomato, cheese and onion. It was served on the best bread I’ve had in 6 weeks! It wasn’t white!! There were visible grains in the bread and the cheese had flavor! Incredible. The chips (fries) were pretty good, too. As is necessary at the beach, we had Malawian gin and tonics. We then headed down to the bar to pay and stumbled upon a South African couple. We spoke with them for a bit, and when they asked if they could buy us drinks, Dave quickly replied, “Yes.” We chatted for about an hour, and once I heard it was Kurt’s birthday, I offered to buy him and Amanda a birthday beer. Interesting conversation. Kurt (that’s not how you spell his name, but it was German, so I couldn’t pronounce it, let alone spell it) is an attorney (or an advocate, I’ve already forgotten the difference) and Amanda works in technical education. Kurt has been ill recently, so they’ve moved to a town about 100km away from Cape Maclear (in Malawi). After the usual getting to know you type stuff, the conversation headed toward politics. I was yet again reminded that politics is one of the three things you shouldn’t discuss, especially with strangers. Yikes.
When we returned to Mufasa, we discovered that the French, Spanish, and Italian had descended upon the place. They were part of an organization called African Expeditions. There were maybe 25-30 of them, mostly French, which obviously made me very happy. I’d guess their ages ranged from 50-72. They’re on a 21 day safari that goes through 5 countries. They had set up tents on the beach but when we saw them, they were enjoying dinner and drinking wine in the little eating area.
We then joined our MSU/Canadian friends for dinner at Gecko, which is probably the most built up place along the beach. It was fine, but I found it overpriced. There are far better places to eat and hang out.
I had given my phone to Megan for the night, so I had no idea what time it was when I awoke Saturday morning. I heard people moving around outside, so I went to the water where I decided it would be a time-free day. Yeah, that lasted about 30 minutes before Dave walked down and the first thing I said after “good morning” was “What time is it?” Best laid plans…
We sat at the water’s edge and watched women doing laundry and dishes while a few men just sat there. The guidebook warns of a lake disease that begins with a ‘B.’ Basically, in areas along the lake where people wash clothing/laundry and bathe, it’s not safe to swim for longer than 15 minutes, after which you must immediately shower and vigorously scrub yourself dry. Something to do with snails that carry parasites that enter your skin. Gross. Needless to say, I didn’t swim.
I did, however, kayak. Megan and I went back to Mgoza and split the Mk1,600 ($10.53) half-day rental. I’m not exactly sure how long we were out there, but it wasn’t a half-day. It was Megan’s first trip and I’m badly out of shape. Still, it was fun. We found Fat Monkey’s from the water and resolved that we’d have to go for a least a drink. Since Geoff wouldn’t let us contribute to petrol from Friday’s ride, the least we could do was patron his bar.
After changing and collecting Dave, that’s just what we did. As we walked there, a group of young kids came up to hold our hands and walk part of the way with us. It’s funny, but some places (villages, mostly), the kids cry when they see us, as they apparently don’t see many “azungu” (white people). At Cape Maclear, however, I can’t tell you how many times I’d be walking around and little kids would come up and want to either touch or hold my hand.
At Fat Monkeys we watched Zimbambwe take South Africa 1-0 over G&Ts, wine, and beer. Not copious quantities of each, just 2 drinks for each of us. We also split the best fish croquettes! Sure, anything deep fried is bound to be delicious, but these had genuinely great flavor.
See Part III, I Love the Nighttime, for Saturday night’s escapades.

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