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Published: December 15th 2010
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After three months of sitting on coaches, mini-buses, safari-trucks and on the couch watching soccer games, Malawi was going to provide some great opportunities to get off our butts and do some hiking. We skipped through Lilongwe, Malawi’s rather unexciting capital, staying only long enough to do a spot of shopping. My sunglasses were floating somewhere in the Zambezi, by now no doubt approaching the Indian Ocean, and the last piece of the plastic airline cutlery, which we had been using since our flight to Johannesburg, had finally broken. The sunglasses, cutlery, as well as our broken torch, replaced, we headed south towards Mount Mulanje, which meant a few more hours on another bus. We stopped for a night at a town called Dedza as a warm up exercise and hiked up the local mountain, after being told by the guesthouse owner, that to do so on our own would most certainly mean that we would get lost. After all, she didn’t presume to come to Australia and go walking around on her own. Funnily enough the short trek proved to have quite an Australian flavour to it, with gum trees lining our way through the forest. Along the way we
came across some local families carrying home bundles of firewood on their heads. Often these people were barefoot, in some instances their feet so calloused and broad they looked out of proportion to the rest of their body. One little old man had feet the size of bear claws. He negotiated the steep path with such ease that we felt quite silly struggling up the hill in our GoreTex, Vibram-soled hiking shoes. This would certainly not be the last time we felt that way on our hikes in Malawi.
After an argument with the aforementioned guesthouse owner about charging us extra for a room with hot water only to end up having one of the coldest showers of the trip and after a few more horrible bus trips we found ourselves at the foot of Mt Mulanje in the south of Malawi. We reported to the local information office to organise our guide for the four-day hike. After a half hour discussion about the right route to take and assurances that our guide would await us at the start of the hike, we went off to do our food shopping. This done we headed to the trail head and park
Sapitwa Peak
Sapitwa apparently means "don't go there". I wonder why. office to pay our hiking and hut fees and meet with our guide. Naturally the park office had no idea we were coming and accordingly no guide had been organised. “Don´t you wish to take a porter?” “No we´re just after a guide.” “Are you sure?” Yes, we´re quite sure.” “Well I´m first going to have to contact one of our officially approved guides to see if any are available.” I suggested one of the half a dozen of friendly locals who had accompanied us on the road up to the parks office and offered their services, and who were now anxiously waiting outside the office. We had deliberately declined to take any of them, because we had been expressly told by the information office and guide books that there was a system in place by which every local guide and porter was put on a roster in the parks office to keep things fair. In any case, the ranger informed us that these men were all only porters. “In that case please contact a guide for us.” The ranger fumbled with this phone then looked back up. “Can you give me money so that I can buy credit for
my phone?” At this point I kindly informed the ranger that no I did not have any money for him and that in fact it was his job to organise these things and what was I paying park fees, hut fees and guide fees for anyway, and so forth. The ranger sheepishly went about making the calls. Or at least he appeared to do so. Of course none of the guides could be reached. “You know, sir, all these men would also make excellent guides. Please why don´t you consider taking one of these men instead.” Kam, incidentally, had long left the scene to go for a walk. Her patience had, on this rare occasion, run out long before mine. I had a quick chat with the men outside and picked out the one who appeared the most competent. “Okay, I´ll take Sam here.” “Well actually, you have to take the man who is next on the roster.” “Okay and who´s that?” “Hmmm, just give me a moment.” The ranger walked out of the office with the roster in his hand and over to another building, the porters rushing after him. A big argument ensued between the ranger and the
porters in deciding whose turn it was. It was low season and there wasn´t much work for porters at the time and so each of the men was desperate to get the job. I´m pretty sure we ended up with the most aggressive of them all, who yelled the loudest. It was good to see the roster system working so beautifully. Luckily when our guide Albat came over to introduce himself he had calmed down and over the course of the hike turned out to be quite a nice young man.
So Kam tells me I need to tell you about the nice aspects of the hike and how beautiful the scenery was and all that. Well if you really wanna hear about it, things on the hike went comparatively smoothly. Unlike the parks office, the mountain huts were extremely well organised and maintained, with a hutkeeper living onsite and taking care of each one. Drinking water was provided and cedar was used as firewood giving each hut a beautiful aroma. And so on the first day we came past some nice waterfalls and pretty flowers and trees and...... Hmmm, I think what you really wanna know about is how
despite having drunk plenty of water I got dehydrated and sick on the second day. How after climbing up 1000 metres of sheer rock faces at impossible angles and struggling over boulders and under roots reaching the highest peak in Malawi (Sapitwa at 3000m) one day, Kamini managed to roll her ankle walking on completely flat ground the next, and ended the hike on an improvised crutch (a long stick if you wanna be specific). And how, despite having put up with elephants, hippos and buffaloes coming through our campsite, one single mouse running around one of the huts was able to keep me up all night for fear that it might run over my face. To make a long story short we completed our traverse of Mt Mulanje and rewarded ourselves with a couple trips to the cinema in Blantyre.
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about time
and just the kind of excitement I need to follow up on. Love, me