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Kilimanjaro & Snakes

Posted on June 4, 2014 by Scott CableJune 4, 2014

With our reconditioned axel in place we left Jerome in Lushoto, back down the Usambara hairpins to the plains and headed 280km north west to Moshi. We just did a quick overnight stop at The Keys Annex camping and accommodation ($8 each to camp and they gave us a room to use for a shower / toilet etc as their showers weren’t available. A friendly bar with funky wall murals and good, cheap, simple food.

The following morning it took us at least an hour to find the KCMC Hospital (recommended by everyone in Tanzania as the best place to get my bite checked for further infection etc). It’s not at the roundabout where it’s marked on any of the maps, in the Lonely Planet books, or on the satnav / Tracks For Africa. FYI it’s about 4km further along that road. They can’t have moved it recently as when we finally found it out in the sticks, it’s huge. Probably 20 buildings housing theatres, teaching facilities, admin areas and wards. There were at least 500 people (visitors, patients, students, etc) just milling around the main entrance. There is no signage anywhere once inside the gates and it took a while to find the Casualty department that we were directed to. The usual mix of chaos (as at any hospital in the world) and African organisation, but everyone was very friendly and helpful.

Given the state of some of the people wandering around Casualty, I felt a bit of a fraud taking up a doctor’s time just to check a bite. However, after an hour or so I was seen by Dr Abedi.

A really nice guy, keen as mustard, studied for 6 years and only qualified 3 months ago. He cleaned the wound, redressed it and told me that it was likely to take another month or two to heal and to get more dressings from the pharmacy in Moshi.

No charge for being seen as it wasn’t worth the hassle to open a patient file in order to collect the money.

We spent another couple of hours in Moshi town as it’s busy, vibrant and has a couple of excellent coffee shops – fresh brewed Tanzanian coffee beans. Wonderfull.

Security is pretty good as well. The Parking Attendants around here do a bit more than just hand out tickets…

From Moshi we continued west to Arusha, around the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro. Most of the pictures taken of the mountain are from the Kenyan side rather than from the Tanzanian, since the southern face is generally shrouded in mist. It was covered as we passed but suddenly a brief break in the cloud at the summit itself allowed us a peek of the snow-cap.

We sat at the side of the Arusha road for a while and over a period of an hour or so a little more was revealed. A very rare treat.

Only another 50km further down the same highway we passed the foot of Mount Meru – about 1,800m lower than Kilimanjaro, but (I’m assured by those who know) a much more challenging climb.

No snow on Meru due to the difference in altitude but once again it revealed itself from the mists as we sat and watched.

Kilimanjaro, Meru and right across The Serengeti to Lake Victoria is the heartland of Maasai country.

We were headed for Meserani Snake Park Camp, just west of Arusha, where everyone travelling west through the Ngorogoro Conservation Area (around – or down into – Ngorogoro Crater) on the only road west to The Serengeti, must pay for and pick up their NCA passes.

Arriving at Snake Park Camp on a Friday afternoon, we didn’t feel like struggling through the weekend jams back into Arusha, so decided to stay a few extra days until the office reopened on Monday

I’m glad we stayed. Ma & BJ built the camp 17 years ago on scrub land and still run it with Deon, a friend of their son. They’re no spring chickens but they’re hard working & great fun. Informative, helpful and very funny hosts. We also spent a few days with Eddy, a tour leader chilling out for a few days before picking up his next guests in Nairobi.

A very relaxing few days – we even watched the Monaco Grand Prix on TV and caught up with world news on Al Jazeera, one of the best (and surprisingly perhaps) least biased news channels in the world.

Most of all we laughed at Ma & BJ’s stories of life in Tanzania.

One story in particular still makes me laugh now – BJ explained how his foolproof method of stalking and hunting buck or buffalo works…

…walk through the bush carrying an open black umbrella in front of you
…have 2 holes cut in it so you can see forward…
…have a third hole cut for the barrel of the gun (the stock can rest on the umbrella handle)
…have a stick with a baseball cap on the top held behind the umbrella, above your head

The hunted beast thinks you’re an ostrich and ignores you to the point you could probably beat it with the butt of the rifle rather than shoot it!

Apart from just being a good place to stop on the way to Ngorogoro or Serengeti, the Snake Park is fascinating. It was started as a hobby by their son when they first arrived. Today they have around 30 species of snakes, some crocodile pools and some birds of prey. All of the animals and birds have been rescued and are either being re-habituated to be released, or are too damaged to be able to fend for themselves.

The campsite itself is swarming with birds, including Collared Love Birds that live in the thatch.

Snake Park Camp employ 40+ local Maasai. Camping is free if you pay $6 entry to the Snake Park. Profits from the Park, the bar and the vehicle repair workshop run by BJ are used to fund the Snake Park, a Massai Cultural Centre they have built, a small Maasai museum and a Health Clinic that is free to all (including administering $25-$150 a pop snake-bite treatment for local herdsmen). These days the clinic can treat up to 1,000 people per month.

A fascinating place and a great welcome. Ma even had the cook make us dinner (normally provided for the tour-truck drivers, but there were none) and asked us to join in their breakfast a couple of mornings.

4 nights camping for 2 people, 8 dinners, 4 breakfasts, 2 free T-shirts, a pot of BJ’s home-made Chilli Relish and many laughs: $75 / £42.

You can’t do much better than that.

Next…Brake failure in The Serengeti!

More local kindness…

Posted on May 27, 2014 by Scott CableMay 27, 2014

I don’t think either of us was disappointed to leave the Dar Es Salaam area and we were looking forward to some beach-time further north.

Helene drove, as my leg was too raw to be able to work the clutch pedal.

Unfortunately it was a pretty miserable, long day.

The main road north from Bagamoyo was closed due to flooding and the 30km diversion was through steep, muddy, rutted tracks that eventually took us nearly 3 hours. After that, 250km of slow tar and lunatic bus drivers again all the way to Tanga.

In Tanga we managed to get fuel and cash and then took the gravel road south for 30km to Peponi Beach. We’d been warned by locals and other travellers not to take the shortcut that Miranda (our Garmin) would suggest, as there were 2 trucks stuck in the mud in a big hole. Even so, the main (gravel) road was pretty treacherous and at one point the flooded river was 200m wide & up to the bonnet of the car as we crossed it.

In all, 300km took us nearly 9 hours. Helene did a great job and was pretty much exhausted when we arrived at Peponi on the Indian Ocean, about 70km south of the Kenyan border.

It was worth it though. View from The Penthouse at our camping pitch.

A beautiful setting.

Jane (who’s parents own Peponi) and her team were most welcoming. We awarded ourselves a few days off from cooking and the seafood in the restaurant (particularly the seafood platter) was superb.

Cracking stuff. A platter for 2 people only $18, camping only $7, hot showers, cold beer and home-made (excellent) bread. We’ve given up buying bread in Africa – with maybe 3 exceptions so far, it’s all be absolutely rubbish! So disappointing, especially since any bread we’ve had previously in North Africa has been wonderful. Jane however makes her own Focaccia rolls. So good that she made us 6 to take away with us when we left.

The next 5 days were spent resting up, with nothing more strenuous to do than watch the crabs trying to avoid the incoming tide (it lapped at the camp at high-tide, and went out about 700m at low tide)…

Some really odd-looking crustaceans…

…and very territorial.

Much better entertainment than TV.

Other than that, a couple of walks on the beach at low tide (no going in the sea unfortunately with my bandages on)…

… stretched out in a chair watching the local fishermen…

…and women gather & washing reeds, grasses and leaves before making baskets, mats, etc.

The boats the fishermen use are often over 100 years old…

…handed down from generation to generation…

…and (though simple) they’re beautiful to watch as they glide along the edge of the huge reef that fringes the Peponi / Tanga coastline.

All in all, a fabulous place to rest up amongst nice people and beautiful scenery.

R&R just as the doctor ordered.

Six nights at Peponi, dinners & drinks for 2 people: $240. That’s pretty good value in my book.

We were disappointed to leave but decided to head west to Lushoto in the Usambara Mountains.

A quick stop for fresh veg in Tanga…

…and a few (hugely expensive) ‘luxuries’ from a local Asian store (a packet of Gingernut biscuits, $5; a bar of Cadbury chocolate, $4; 1/2 pound of Cheddar cheese, $9; etc) and then we headed out of town.

Everything in Tanzania is more expensive than we’ve seen so far in Africa – except fuel: the diesel here is around 2,200 TSH (£0.80 / $1.30) per litre. Unfortunately, the reason the fuel is cheap is because it’s crap! Definitely diluted withe either kerosene or water – probably both. The rubbish that comes out of every exhaust is enough to choke you and paint your face black when you drive with the windows open.

The Usambara mountains rise from the plain at 400m altitude, up to around 2,100m and the 30km trail from Mombo up the mountain to Lushoto is tarred, but narrow and twisting through beautiful countryside.

At this time of year, it’s unfortunately pretty much permanently in the cloud and is cold due to the altitude.

After leaving the tar road, and driving through the mud-bath that is Lushoto village, we were turning a particularly tight, steep hairpin on the edge of Maguzoni village when…BANG!

In the centre of the corner, right on a narrow junction, we lost all drive.

We managed to coast backwards down the hill a little, and a bunch of the locals pushed us to the side of the road to get us out of the village traffic.

A chap came up and introduced himself in perfect English as Jerome. It became obvious that he was probably one of only a handful of people around who spoke any English at all and our Swahili lessons have not been going as well as we’d like.

No problem. Jerome (next to Helene)…

…got straight on the case with his mobile phone. Within 45 minutes 2 mechanics arrived on the back of a motorbike taxi, through the mud from Lushoto and set to work on diagnosing the problem.

It took them about 90 seconds to discover that the rear axel had snapped.

Within another 5 minutes they’d got the nearside half-shaft dismantled and all 3 of them had disappeared again on the taxi-bike to find a welder.

We certainly were lucky Jerome happened to be passing. He lives about 3/4 mile outside the village and, only seconds before we arrived, had run into the village centre because someone had told him they had spotted his lost dog.

As he got to the junction we were at, he heard the bang from our axel and saw us coasting backwards. If he hadn’t been there we’d never have known how to communicate with the locals or find a trustworthy local mechanic.

Ninety minutes later, as it got dark and started to rain again, the mechanic reappeared on the taxi-bike with the half-shaft welded to the end-cap.

They had it re-fitted within 10 minutes and we gingerly tested it. The weld seemed to hold but, 30km up a mountain, no one was certain whether it would last 1km or 100,000km.

Jerome said we could camp in his garden, just west of the village, and we limped there slowly through the rutted muddy track. He’s in the process of building a campsite & B&B business at his family farm and said we could stay there until we worked out what to do next.

A real stroke of luck, as I don’t know where else we’d have gone, or how far we’d have got.

Jerome said he was taking his father to Dar Es Salaam (600km away) for a brain / eye operation the following day. He told us to stay put and somehow he’d find us a replacement half-shaft while he was there.

Nothing for it other than to wait in his garden, watching the local wildlife and hope he’s as resourceful as he seems.

Sure enough, 3 days later Jerome returned with a 2nd-hand part from a spares shop in Dar – and the mechanics on the taxi-bike again.

We’d given him $120 in case he found a replacement part and he came back with change. Total cost of the repair $100 for the 2nd-hand part + $25 for the emergency welding, 2x mechanics’ visits and taxi-bike fares.

Bargain.

In the end, Jerome wouldn’t even take any money for the 3 nights camping in his garden. Suspecting this would be the case, we’d spent the previous 2 rainy days in camp designing a brochure for ‘Green Farm’, his new business.

He was absolutely delighted with it as he has no promotional material, and we even finally managed to press some cash on him towards printing costs.

Once again, we’re back on the road due to the generosity of spirit and willing nature of the fabulous people we’ve met.

Heading west now towards Arusha, Kilimanjaro and The Serengetti.

Spider Bite Update

Posted on May 17, 2014 by Scott CableMay 22, 2014

Just outside Iringa we stayed at Kisolanza – The Old Farmhouse. There’s no dramatic scenery around, but the campsite itself is a great place for a couple of days stopover. Setup on a farm, it’s based around a mud-built dwelling that they discovered in the undergrowth around 70 years ago and have converted to a beautiful, character restaurant.

There is no electricity. In the evening the bar & restaurant are lit by beautiful candles and lanterns.

It doesn’t just have character, it has superb food. A set, 3-course menu for $18 each evening. Not cheap but worth every penny. Everything made fresh from the farm produce: Carrot & Cardamon soup, Succulent fried chicken with perfumed farm veg and herb-coated pasta, Rhubarb sponge with a crumble topping & cinnamon custard.

The camping spots are secluded & quiet, showers are spotless and hot, and they even have a hairdressing salon.

Outstanding. In the end we stayed 2 days – couldn’t resist another dinner the following night (roasted beef!).

We had planned to head north up through Dodoma but had heard that the park at Ruaha was flooded (subsequently found out this was not true and we could have gone in on all-weather tracks). However, the bite on my leg was getting more painful, swollen and ugly so we decided to head for Dar Es Salaam to get it checked out at a ‘western’ standard hospital.

What a miserable trip. We did a 5-hour day to a simple campsite near Mikumi called Tan-Swiss (clean, hot showers, expensive bar) and then a 300km day east to Bagamoyo, just north of Dar.

That 300 km took us through typical, busy little Tanzanian towns…

…and through the mayhem of Dar Es Salaam roadworks. I think they’re putting in some sort of public tram system – 280km to Dar took about 5 hours, then 20km through the roadworks to Mbweni took another 2 1/2 hours! Quite scenic until we got to Dar, then blistering hot, dusty, noisy, dirty, aggressive, lunatic bus drivers, manic traffic.

The only campsite north, but close to Dar, is The Silver Sands at Mbweni which is very dilapidated. Camping $6 each, dinner $11 each. However, the view is not too bad.

We camped right next to the beach and just watched the world go by for 24 hours.

View of the Indian Ocean from The Penthouse at sunrise.

On Sunday morning we headed into Dar to get my leg looked at. However, we couldn’t face 3-5 hours of traffic jams again, so pulled into a small teaching hospital we’d spotted the day before while stuck in traffic. It was pretty run-down looking but the staff were friendly and the doctor seemed to know his stuff (even though it was necessary to pay 15,000 TSH ($10) up front before being seen).

This is the point where if you’re a little squeemish (or perhaps eating as you read this) you may…

…want to…

…scroll past…

…the next few pictures…

I didn’t even notice being bitten in Malawi (probably when we were out with the ‘Wells For Zoe’ team).

Overnight, on our second day at Chitimba camp a weeping blister came up…

We went up to Lukwe, near Livingstonia at the Nyika Plateau. After 36 hours, when the bite had gotten worse, we saw the ‘western’ doctor at the Livingstonia Mission Hospital…

A week later, after finishing the antibiotic course, we revisited the hospital and the doctor gave me the all-clear to travel. Probably a mistake.

By the time we got to Iringa in Tanzania (4 days later) the bite was extremely painful and a real mess.

No option other than to get to a hospital in Dar…

At the teaching hospital, Dr Fatihe took one look at it and said “That has to be cut out. Now.”

Probably, we should have pressed on into the centre of Dar itself and gone to the International Hospital, but my leg was so sore I couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in all that traffic again.

He told me I had to pre-agree the cost of treatment (250,000 TSH / $160) and I said let’s just get on with it.

The treatment room wasn’t quite up to the standard I’d hoped, but they injected a sedative into a vein on my hand, then injected a local anaesthetic around the bite. The first 4-5 injections hurt like hell, but the other dozen or so were painless.

As the doctor started cutting it became a little painful.

Helene held my hand. Really sweet of her, I thought, until she told me afterwards that it was mainly because I was waving my arms around and continually asking “where are the dancing girls?” under the influence of the drugs.

That’s when they said they thought it better to put me right out and pumped another shot into the vein.

That’s the last thing I remember for an hour as they cut out the dead skin and poisoned tissue.

When I surfaced everything was bandaged up, and we paid the cashier.

The Doc said I should come back daily for the next 5 days for antibiotic injections but I said we were heading north and couldn’t hang around Dar. They gave me a bag of painkillers and antibiotics etc and Helene drove us to a small lodge at Bagamoyo (expensive, but comfortable) where we rested for 48 hours (in the rain).

A couple of days doing nothing…

..until we felt up to heading north, to a hopefully warmer ocean climate.

Off-beat Police Action

Posted on May 15, 2014 by Scott CableMay 15, 2014

We only had a day before our Malawi Visas expired, so drove 160km north up the lake to the Songwe Bridge border with Tanzania. A good road, but pretty slow due to the heavy rain and a number of slow trucks.

Arriving at the border at noon (usually the worst time of day) we got our Carnet stamped out and passports checked on the Malawi side within about 15 minutes. We also changed money at a small Forex booth just through the Malawi side of the crossing, having been told by many people not to use the money-changers on the bridge because “they know a hundred ways to rip you off”.

The Tanzania side of the border was more chaotic, but still friendly and only took about 1 hour.

$50 each for a 90-day Tanzania visa at the first booth,
Then the Carnet stamped at the second booth to allow the car in ($20 import duty, even though the Carnet is recognised), plus $5 for Road / Fuel Duty.

All paid in US$ only.

I gave the cashier a $50 note for the Carnet & Fuel Duty, got receipts for the $20 & $5 and got $20 change.

“I should have another $5” I told her.
“No”, she said, smiling broadly.
“Yes, I gave you $50 and you only gave me $20 change. What is the other $5 for?”
“It is for me” she grinned
“Can I have a receipt then please?”
“No you can’t. I don’t have any change and I cannot open the safe for another 6 hours”

Oh well, you live and (hopefully) learn.

Top Tip: When you pay in US$, have the correct money ready in small notes.

On the plus side, just outside the border I managed to finally buy 90-days COMESA insurance, which should mean that we don’t need to buy local 3rd-party vehicle insurance at the next few borders.

The guy in the insurance booth also back-dated it a few days so that I didn’t need to also buy Tanzania Insurance and the COMESA would cover me here. They started out quoting 200,000 Tanzanian Shillings but I managed to get them down to 120,000 (£43 /$70) and saved the normal $20 Tanzania 3rd-party insurance cost.

Top Tip: National 3rd-party Insurance costs are fixed. COMESA costs don’t seem to be. They will charge what they can get away with. Negotiate.

Over the border, Mbeya is the next town of any scale, where we were heading to get the car fixed. Its 120km on a tar road that is endlessly rutted with the weight of the trucks climbing the hills. The ruts are like the tracks on an olympic ski-jump and if you lose concentration they can throw the car into a major tank-slapper. We saw at least 5 trucks turned over on their side.

It didn’t help that it rained heavily and constantly as we climbed from 450m altitude at the lake to 2,260m at the top of the pass.

If the weather had been better, it would have been a very scenic drive through numerous Rongwe Tea plantations and small terraced subsistence farms.

The workshop we had heard about was run by the Karibuni Mission and based about 20km North West of Mbeya. That gave us a chance to camp at Utengule, a coffee plantation owned by a Swiss couple up in the hills. A nice place, with a good bar, friendly staff and a good restaurant (but not cheap, $25 each for dinner).

It was only spoilt by a table of 3 middle-aged guys (American, German & S African) bragging about how they had set up an NGO locally to promote safe sex to men. Their whole marketing stance was that sex is fun, men should go out and have as much as you like, whenever you like, just wear a condom. As a result they were making a fortune selling their new brand of condoms and spent much of their time “surrounded by beautiful women for all the advertising campaigns“. If they paid any attention to the rape statistics in Africa (in & out of marriage) they may not have been so blasé.

Dickheads.

We camped on the Helipad on the edge of the hill. Not much in the way of campers’ facilities though. There’s only 1 shower and 1 toilet – both of which are in the squash court (yes, there’s a squash court: in the middle of nowhere).

Excellent view from The Penthouse at dusk though.

The next morning we were at Karibuni Mission Garage in Mbelizi around 10am. Quite a big setup, with 10 ramps / inspection pits, a Chapel, classrooms for the mechanics that they train, mission offices and a carpentry school.

They took the Vac Pump apart and said that it was damaged to the point that any repair may not last.

Fortunately they had a new one in stock and could fit it while we waited. Their quote was 410,000 TSH (£160 / $250) for the part and 95,000 TSH labour to fit it (including greasing the props and cleaning the engine).

Four hours later the new pump was on, engine cleaned up, a new bracket made and welded for an exhaust clamp that had been broken for some time, the reversing light (that I was fined for in Malawi) replaced, the top cover of the engine removed and a new gasket fitted.

Parts cost had gone up by a massive (!) £20 and the labour price didn’t increase at all (£38). Seemed to be a really thorough job and Christopher and his team really seemed to know what they were about.

The garage is a large and inspiring setup, run in order to finance the Kibuni Mission Hospital in Mbeya and also the training schools they run for mechanic and carpentry apprentices at the workshops themselves.

All morning, 30-40 teenage boys (and girls) sit in the classrooms above the workshops at the MVTC (Mbelizi Vocational Training Centre). After lunch they change out of their immaculate school uniforms into overalls and crowd round any cars in the shop to gain as much practical teaching as they can.

This probably meant our car took an hour longer than necessary to fix, but I didn’t mind in the slightest – a really worthy cause.

Besides, how often are they going to to get the chance to see what a properly rusty vehicle looks like!

That evening we went to the Kibuni Mission Camp (yes, run by the same people as the workshop and the hospital) in Mbeya town itself. The camping area is really just their carpark. After we found out that they let a massive, rough-looking guard dog out after 11am (making night-time toilet trips a bit of an assault course) we decided to take one of their simple, clean rooms (with an en-suite) for only 30,000 TSH (about £11 / $18).

Bargain – plus at this altitude its pretty cold, it’s still raining and my leg hurts like hell. Decision made.

The other decision we made was that we were going to head east to Iringa and, from there either north to Dodoma or further east towards Dar Es Salaam. We would have liked to have gone directly north up the side of Lake Tanganyika, but after weeks of rain, all the local reports are that some bridges are out and the road will be impassable for at least another 2-3 weeks.

Fortunately the road to Iringa took us through some interesting little towns…

…and some scenic countryside.

Unfortunately, although it is a long, straight, tar road, the speed limit within a couple of miles of every one of the numerous villages is 50kph at best and, in some areas 30kph (19mph). The speed bumps are so vicious (even on uphill sections!) that anything above second gear will shake bits off the car.

We went through at least a dozen speed traps.

Actually that’s not quite accurate. We went through most of them: at 2 of them we didn’t get through and twice within 100km I was fined 30,000TSH.

Eventually we drove into Iringa looking for fuel (and more cash). In the centre of town we were pulled over again by another group of police who, this time, wanted to fine me another 30,000TSH for having a cracked windscreen.

Given that we’d spent most of the day driving past cars and trucks with lights missing, odd wheels, bald tyres and chassis so crooked they drove down the road sideways like crabs on a beach, I said “no, I’m not paying“.

“You must pay, your car is defective.” the officer said.

“No, one of your bloody lunatic busses hurtling past us at 50kph over the speed limit smashed this windscreen yesterday.” I said. “There is nowhere here I can fix it so I am going to Dar Es Salaam to get it replaced. You can’t fine me just because I can’t fix it right this minute”.
“Yes I can, you must pay”.
“No. I will not.”
“Look, just pay the fine, then you can go”.
“No. I want to go to the Police Station and see the senior officer. This is unreasonable. If I had just had a car accident, would you fine me because my car had been damaged?”
The officer and his 3 pals took my license, jumped into his car and we followed them to the Iringa Police HQ.
After 30 minutes explaining the situation to the senior officer, he sent his chief mechanic to look at the car.

That got me a bit concerned – what else would they find?

“No, you must pay. The car is defective under section 36a and 43c. If you had a problem with the windscreen you should have reported it to the police and got a note from them stating that you were on your way to fix it.”

I showed him on his list that 36a was ‘Bald Tyres’ and 43c was ‘Defective Lights’.

“Look“, I said, “I’ve been stopped twice for speeding on the way here. Neither officer was concerned about the windscreen, so the Police know all about it.”

That tickled them no end.

A lot of laughing amongst themselves and finally one of them said “You may go Mr Unlucky Mzungu. I think you have seen enough of the Police for a while.”

I didn’t need telling twice. Into the car, and out of town as quickly (under the speed limit) as possible.

In Deep Do-do again

Posted on May 9, 2014 by Scott CableMay 10, 2014

I can think of a lot worse places than Lukwe Camp at Livingstonia to be told to sit and do nothing.

To round things off, Gareth and Kirsty (who we met further south on the lake) turned up. Gareth says he’s as incompetent as me mechanically, but I doubt it.

He came up with a plan to use clamps on the engine vacuum pump seal to try and slow the leak. We ran the engine for a few hours and it seemed to work. The real test as to whether or not it will hold will come when we go back up the rough track to the hospital to have my leg checked later in the week.

In the meantime, 3 Dutch guys (2 doctors and a pharmacist) were camped next to us for a couple of days. They were good enough to take a look at the bite for me and gave us a handful of dressings and antiseptic solution from their supplies.

As they wandered around the camp half naked (typical Dutch) Helene busied herself sewing up holes in my trousers.

She managed to tear herself away every now and then to get a few snaps of the dashing young doctors.

The rest of the week was spent (by me) lazing around the camp and (by Helene) going native collecting water from the well…

…and bringing it back to camp in local style.

Lukwe Camp is exceptionally eco-friendly. There is no mains power (only a little solar lighting) and they have solar showers and composting toilets.

All of it is kept spotlessly clean by owner Auke’s staff.

The whole place was built, by hand, by Auke himself. Every toilet seat, wall, door, shower, and sink.

He also built the bar / restaurant and all the furniture from his own teak and mahogany trees. Every plank of wood for the deck was cut by hand from the log and is fitted using dowels rather than screws or nails (as is all the furniture). It really is a gem.

In the restaurant, Fiskane produces excellent, well priced food. She has 4 daughters of her own and has adopted an orphaned girl (Gloria) who is now going to school for the first time at age 15. Schooling is cheap for grades 1-8 (250 Kwacha per term) but from grade 8 upwards it rockets to 10,000 Kwacha per term (£15 / $25) – well out of the reach of most families.

The stir-fry, steaks, salads, curries, etc use fresh produce from Lukwe’s large permaculture garden established 14 years ago by Auke’s wife Lisle.

They also roast the coffee they grow…

…which complements the breakfasts they serve. Home made bread and eggs from the chicks in the garden, etc.

Unfortunately my breakfast was a bit of a let-down. My own fault really, I ladled what I though was French Mustard (not seen for many months) onto my eggs, only to discover it was peanut butter. Doh!

I spent most of the next 5 days sitting on my backside nursing my ankle, just enjoying the views of the other side of the valley from the terrace.

Not a bad way to while away a week.

Helene couldn’t sit around any longer and went wandering around Lukwe’s permaculture garden and on a short hike with Gareth & Kirsty to the waterfall that runs through the valley overlooked by the camp.

As always, any attraction itself attracts kids who want to be guides.

The falls are accessible at the top and provide water for much of the local community.

There’s also a cave about a third of the way down where almost a century ago locals used to hide when Slavers came to Malawi from Mozambique looking for ‘recruits’.

Eventually, antibiotics finished, we decided to test the car up the hill to see Doctor Lynne in Livingstonia.

She was fairly happy with the progress of my bite. But not so happy when I told her that having spent 6 days keeping it covered and spotlessly clean, the previous evening I fell, up to my knees, into the soakaway for the composting toilets.

Once more in deep do-do.

Most importantly, Gareth’s clamp on the car held like a charm.

We had about 250km to travel to a Land Rover mechanic we’d heard of in Tanzania, and only 2 days left on our Malawi visas. Having lost nearly 5 litres of oil on the way up (the engine holds 6!) we decided to use the downward journey as a bit of a test.

We bounced the 15km of steep, rutted hairpins back to lake level and stayed once again at Chitimba Camp with Ed ‘The Viking’.

At least that gave me a chance to pick up the spoon I’d ordered from Chico (one of the local wood-carvers) over a week ago, having promised I’d be back in 24 hours. This is the second one he made – the first was big enough to go Dragon-Boat Racing with.

Best of all, the clamp was still fixed firmly.

Right, now to get 235km to the top of Lake Malawi and into Tanzania, before it gives up.

Unwell…

Posted on April 30, 2014 by Scott CableApril 30, 2014

We’d spent the whole day either out in the fields with the Wells For Zoe team or ferrying them around the muddy clay valley. They were going for dinner at Pine Tree Lodge and asked if we wanted to tag along. A really good steak, chips and salad – in good company. $6 each plus beers.

Early evening, they left en-masse to head down to Kande Beach (where we’d just come from) on the lake for Easter weekend. We left not long after and found they had settled up for us as a thank you for the help. Unnecessary, but most welcome.

By the time we got back to Illala Crest Lodge, on an elevated position just outside Mzuzu town, there was a huge storm – and an odd red glow in the sky. It took us a while to work out that it was a fire in the town centre market. The fire burned for 3-4 hours and at its peak the flames must have been at least 20-30m high.

We heard later that evening that the news stations had reported the Police had moved in and used tear-gas to stop looters. Many people’s livelihoods severely damaged by the fire. Apparently no one hurt and this happens at least once a year.

As we left the next morning there was considerable damage to the market stall area but people were setting up again and the place was mobbed – business as usual.

The storm meant that most of the power was out in town and, as the lodge’s Visa machine was out of action I had to use most of our cash to settle up. We needed shopping and fuel before moving on but there are plenty of banks with ATMs in town to get cash.

After driving round 11 ATM we finally found one that was a) working and b) accepted international VISA cards and we finally got away around lunchtime.

We drove broadly north and then Northwest along the edge of the Nyika mountains, heading back towards the lake. Having been at the lake most of the time in Malawi (altitude 400m) up here at 1,300m the environment was cooler and misty.

The landscape on the edge of the Nyika Plateau is beautiful. At times the road passes through huge rubber plantations on either side of the road.

For the smaller farmers, the local cash-crop around here seems to be tobacco and the hillsides are littered with small share-croppers growing it…

…and drying it ready to be sold at the local community markets.

Just before the steep drop back down to the lakeshore we came across another police roadblock. Here we go, I thought, another fine for the reversing light not working. This time it was about 12 officers living in tents either side of the road, all wearing “Immigration Officer” uniforms. Friendly, but they scrutinised our passports and visas at length.

Given that we’ve seen no more that a dozen travellers on the roads and we’re at least 250km from any border, I’m not sure who they’re trying to catch out with incorrect paperwork. We passed muster and were allowed to proceed, arriving about 45 minutes later at Chitimba Camp on the lakeshore.

Chitimba is run by Ed (the Viking) and his wife who’ve been there about 15 years. A friendly place that reflects Ed’s quirky, arty nature.

The best thing about the camp is that the people are friendly, it has a huge beachfront and the pitches drain well after the heavy rain that can dump 3-4 inches of rain in only a couple of hours. Unfortunately the camp doesn’t have hot showers or water for wash-up facilities / laundry.

Even though the showers are cold, you need to be prepared to share them…

On the beach Ed has built a ‘Honeymoon Suite’ called The Love Boat.

It’s mounted on old Land Rover springs and has a ship’s bell on a rope -presumably so that everyone knows when it’s occupied!

The lakeshore is a huge resource for the small settlements dotted along it.

It’s used as a thoroughfare…

…to launch the ancient log-canoes that both men and children use for fishing…

…and by the village women to wash the kids and the laundry.

We had our own housekeeping to do.

They say that Malawi is ‘a land built on ants’.
They’re everywhere.
Particularly in the Land Rover.
They even climb the ladder onto the roof-tent.
Have you seen the excellent film called ‘Mousehunt’ with Lee Evans? Imagine what he went through tracking that little blighter down and substitute 1 mouse for 500-600 ants.

We do our best to travel light. Not like the guys on motorbikes though, or our pals Jules and Li cycling to Australia. How do they cope without all this lot? (and this is just the rear load-area of the car!)

The next morning I noticed an insect bite on my ankle, which had come up as a bit of a messy blister. Didn’t feel it happen and don’t know when, but it flared up really fast – hopefully it will disappear as quickly.

We left later that day to go just a short distance up the mountainside to an old settlement called Livingstonia. It’s only 17km away but a challenging track when dry and impossible when really wet.

The first 6-7km are not too bad, dry and reasonably flat.

The remaining 8km though are pretty interesting.

Steep and twisty in places the track rises about 900m over the 8km length.

Low-range 2nd & 3rd gear all the way with rutted, wet, clay & gravel hairpins on steep drops that test both the Land Rover turning circle and your nerve.

Our destination, Lukwe Camp, on the mountainside is worth the drive in any weather. The camping pitches are on terraces in the trees and the bar is on poles over the edge of the valley.

The view of the Nyika foothills, Lake Malawi and the mountains across the lake in Tanzania is certainly one of the best we’ve seen since arriving in Malawi.

By the next morning, my ankle was swollen, very painful and had got worse rather than better (I hope you’re not eating as you read this….)

Auke, the owner of Lukwe Camp, told me I needed to get up to see Dr. Lynne at the hospital at the top of the valley in Livingstonia village (Helene told me that the previous day, but naturally I didn’t listen).

We’d had a lot of rain but fortunately the remaining 4km track to Livingstonia at the top of the valley is better than the lower section. It’s a very small village where a mission & hospital was established in 1884 by Dr Robert Laws from the Free Church of Scotland.

This is still the main building, completed in 1910, and probably hasn’t changed much since.

When built it was the biggest hospital in Central Africa and it still has the best reputation for many hundreds of km.

Amazingly, using the power of the Manchewe river and waterfalls (4km away) they built their own Hydroelectric system in 1905 which ran until 1986, when the Malawi Government put mains-power into the village and told them they couldn’t use the falls any more.

Hydro. In Malawi. In the middle of nowhere. In 1905!

We were seen by Dr Lynne, who runs the place. Given the number of babies and children been seen to by her assistants, I felt guilty dragging her away – but I’d been told by Auke to ask for her specifically.

I said that I hoped she wasn’t in the middle of something important. “If I’d been in the middle of something important, I’d still be in the middle of something important” she replied.

She’s also a missionary, from Ireland. She and her husband took over 3 years ago and she plans to stay “…until they don’t need me anymore, although I’m going to retire back to Ireland in 15 years one way or the other.”

She inspected the bite (and my groin?) and thinks it’s most likely either from a tick or a spider. Probably when we in the overgrown valleys round Mzuzu looking at the wells. She dressed it and gave us a weeks supply of horse-pill sized antibiotics. Total charge 1,600 Kwacha (about £2.30 / $3.50).

“It’s pretty nasty” she said “don’t plan on going anywhere unless you know they’ve got a good hospital and know what they’re doing”.

Oh well, rather than leave for Tanzania as we’d planned, it looks like we’ll be at Lukwe Camp for a few more days.

That’s certainly no hardship.

In the meantime ‘Donkey’, as we’ve affectionately nicknamed the car, is also unwell. Back at camp when we returned from the hospital I noticed a larger than normal puddle of oil and there was oil sprayed all over the propshaft etc.

Nothing registered on the dipstick so I put 2 litres in. Still nothing on the level. Another 2 litres. That barely registered.

Eventually I put in 5.5 litres (the manual says it only takes 6 from empty)! This is pretty serious.

We found where it’s leaking from – a mysterious bolt-on part on the side of the engine, just behind the lift pump. It looks like the outer seal has gone.

I couldn’t find anything in the engine section of the manual that looks remotely like it or any mention of any part that should be in that location.

Nothing else for it – take a photo on the phone, email it to ‘International Rescue’ (Frank & Liz in Cyprus) and hope they have some idea.

Once again they came up trumps. Instantly. It’s the Vacuum Pump for the brakes and, of course, all the info is in the Brakes Section of the manual.

Well… the engine took nearly 6 litres to refill it after travelling only 100km or so. I’ve got 2.5 litres left. Auke has only got a litre here at camp. The next fuel & oil he knows of is 15km back down the mountain and 100km away up the lake.

Oh well, I’m not allowed to go anywhere for the next few days so we’ve got a while to think it over.

Although, the clock’s ticking – our visas run out in 7 days.

Well….

Posted on April 26, 2014 by Scott CableApril 26, 2014

The Kande Beach campsite wasn’t as picturesque as Makuzi, but being on flat ground, meant that at least it drained well. They also have a nice bar on the beach itself.

It turned out that we were fortunate to have moved on. Not only did Makuzi suffer even more rain over the next couple of days but Kande has an uninterrupted view directly north up the lake. The evening we arrived we had a couple of ‘Greens’ with Kirsty & Gareth on the beach and were fortunate enough to be there on one of the few occasions when the rising of a full moon coincided with the setting of the sun.

The ‘sunset’ colours in the sky are in the east and actually a reflection off the moon just below the horizon.

It appeared as if the full moon rose directly out of the lake.

Superb (unfortunately we didn’t have the camera so the phone pictures don’t really do it justice).

Not bad for a phone camera though.

Just before we left to head north a bunch of guys arrived who are ‘recycling’ their BMW ie returning it to Germany. They plan to drive it all the way but, although they can stick to tar roads most of the way, I’m surprised they managed to get it down the steep muddy track to the Kande Beach camp. It’ll be even more fun trying to get it back up.

After Kande we went 120km north up the lake to Nkhata Bay looking for camping.

Although the village is pretty scrappy, a couple of the adjacent coves are lovely and have some attractive lodges. Unfortunately none of them have any facility for rooftents (other than being crammed into their car parks – the only relatively flat land around). Not what we’re looking for.

We stopped here for lunch and they said we could camp in their beach. We decided not to – it’s a small public beach and, since it’s Easter Weekend, very crowded. We would have ended up as the local TV Channel.

In the end we didn’t get lunch either. After waiting about 30 minutes (not unusual out here) the waiter came back and said it could be another hour or two as the drivers had gone into town looking for supplies (we only ordered a couple of omelettes). We couldn’t wait any longer as the next likely camping was Mzuzu town about 60km away and it would be dark before we arrived and found somewhere to stay.

Leaving Nkhata we got stopped at a Police roadblock and (unusually) they wanted to check everything: passports, Visas, car insurance and then all the vehicle lights. They found the reversing light wasn’t working and said the fine was up to 20,000 Kwacha ($50). With a bit of good humour I managed to talk them down to 3,000 ($7) but there was no way I was going to be able to talk my way out of it.

Mzuzu is a large town with most amenities, loads of fuel, ATM, a new shopping mall, etc. Unfortunately it doesn’t have any camping. There is a Backpackers but we couldn’t find it (fortunately, as a number of people have since told us it’s a dump) and we ended up in the Ilala Crest Lodge / Motel, just outside town.

Clean and with a good, cheap restaurant & bar. Dinner $4 each, beers $1. Rooms were expensive though (by our standards) at $60 per night.

Still, we lucked out. We met Neil, Elaine & Ashleigh in the bar. Part of a group from Dublin Institute of Technology, they are over here volunteering for an Irish Charity based in Mzuzu called ‘Wells For Zoe’. Over the last 7 years they have established a sustainable community farm and a programme for locally manufacturing and installing pumps for wells in communities that wouldn’t otherwise have local access to water.

It was fascinating and inspiring. They said they were going to install a pump the following day and, although we were planning to move on, we asked if we could tag along. Better still, they offered to show us the small factory they had built in Mzuzu to manufacture the pumps.

William (at 1 of the 2 lathes imported from Ireland 3 years ago) and a couple of colleagues make all the pumps from scratch.

William was originally one of the farm labourers who took an interest in the manufacture and now is in charge of the team on the ground. Wells for Zoe recognised his abilities and between him and a young girl called Aliffe (their local administrator) now have a really good team based in Mzuzu.

The pumps are beautifully clever and simple.

They’re made from Polypipe and solid plastic block. All components are milled, and connected by screw-threads produced on the lathe so that there are no elements that need to be imported. Each pump has 2 reciprocating valves, using bicycle inner-tube or pond liner as the flexible diaphragm.

Best of all they’re reliable and cheap (steel pumps may look stronger but they can cost up $500-$1000 dollars to produce). They also have components that are difficult and expensive to replace. These ‘Canzee Pumps’ designed by SWS Filtration Ltd, can be manufactured in Mzuzu for about $50-$60 per unit!

We met up with the rest of the 16-strong team of volunteers from DIT who have been digging a well locally, all piled into our car, their battered old Land Cruiser and an old saloon they have and headed out to see a pump being installed.

The communities these pumps go into are very remote and access is difficult. We got the saloon through most of the 20km journey, but eventually, due to the steep muddy, clay tracks, had to abandon it and I ferried the team the last 3-4km in 3 trips.

Eventually we had to leave even the Land Rover and walk about 1km down a steep valley carrying all the equipment needed.

The first installation was in a small group of half a dozen dwellings.

Their steel well pump (installed in 2006) had been broken for the last 18 months. Their alternative water sources have been either a well in the next village (an arduous steep, 6km walk each way) or the poor quality ground water next to their houses.

The old well had been repaired, cleaned and re-pointed over the previous weeks.

A new well-head cap was made out of concrete.

William showed the locals how the valves were fitted to the pipes so that they could maintaing / replace the bicycle inner-tube diaphragms.

The inner and outer tubes were assembled into a screw thread set into the well head.

The pump itself was attached to the well pipes and the new well-head cemented.

No more than 20 minutes later, fresh water was being pumped. This well will serve around 100 people.

We walked to a second community a couple of kilometres away to install a second pump. Unfortunately this couldn’t be completed because, although they had been without fresh water for 12 months, the people there hadn’t cleaned their existing, damaged well as they had been asked to to.

If the pump had been fitted that afternoon they would never have cleaned it and, although they would have had a pump, the water would have remained severely contaminated. Better to promise to return a 4 days later and complete the installation once they’d kept their side of the bargain, than to put in a bad system.

The locals dig the wells themselves and either leave the shaft bare or line them with home-made clay bricks. The pump itself costs $50-$60. The most expensive element is the concrete for the well head (due to it’s scarcity here) at about $100.

Best of all, Wells for Zoe is prepared to manufacture & supply the pumps to anyone who may be interested around Africa.

Outstanding. Inspiring. Life-saving.

Top Tip: visit the Wells For Zoe website.

Green Beer & Rain

Posted on April 21, 2014 by Scott CableApril 21, 2014

We got some cash from an ATM at dusty, lively Salima village and filled up with fuel (850 kwacha / $2 / £1.30 per litre) and headed north up the lake. Very scenic.

The road up the lake is single lane tar and in pretty good condition. Fortunately there’s little traffic as, if one of the big trucks comes the other way, you get forced off the road across the ragged potholes and crumbling tar surface.

Some of the bridges look pretty fragile, but given that trucks do use the road, I guess they stand up pretty well to the thundering speed they travel at.

Still, there’s little reason to drive quickly when the alternative is to travel at ‘Landy’ speed and enjoy the scenery.

The biggest obstacles are the goats and people who walk the road between the villages, schools and farms that dot the lake shore. Many people have no choice but to walk 10-15km round trip every day. The lucky ones have bicycles – and they rarely cycle anywhere other than the middle of the road.

We weren’t sure where we were heading but after 120km or so saw signs for Fish Eagle Lodge that had camping. The track from the tar to the lodge is about 12km of muddy sand, made tricky after days of rain, but the location on the lake shore was lovely. View from The Penthouse camped on the sand.

The lodge is run by friendly Camille from Congo and most of the hard work is done by Keeko a chatty, smiley local chap who seems to be everywhere at the same time and can’t do enough for you.

I asked what beers they had and Keeko said “we only have green“. Oh well, when in Rome, I’d decided to give it a try. It turned out to be Carlsberg, the same as you get everywhere but since there’s rarely any choice of brands, the locals know them by their label colours – green or gold.

The lodge is set up for chalets rather than campers but there is shelter next to the beach, separate, clean (hot!) camper’s showers & toilets. Camping at 4,500 kwacha ($11) is good value.

Even better, the food is excellent and cheap. Very good chicken curry, $11 for 2 including drinks. All prepared in their simple, but spotlessly clean kitchen.

The beach is used as a thoroughfare for locals between villages and, although camping on it at first felt pretty exposed, there was no hassle or intrusion from anyone.

It was a bit of a wrench to leave, but a cup of tea always sets you up for the morning. This thing just simmers away all day – tea you could stand a spoon up in.

We headed north on the M5 another 160km and bought fresh samosas for breakfast at the roadside. Still warm, but unfortunately pretty tasteless – just rice and onion in a batter without seasoning or flavouring.

Once again the road was tar and very quiet.

Another 7-8 rickety single lane bridges and 3 police road blocks. No hassle though and all friendly. The only time we had a bit of grief was when the main road was blocked with tree-trunks at either end of a village we passed through. A group of locals were ‘guarding’ it and wanted to sell us fish before we passed. The fish was at least a week old so we declined. When they realised we wouldn’t buy, they asked us to give them a ‘gift’ of 2,000 kwacha ($3) but we told them (politely but firmly) we wouldn’t pay and they eventually moved the trees for us to pass.

The countryside here is very green (it ought to be given the amount of rain we’ve experienced) and people live simply. They fish in the local streams…

…and farm the small plots of land they have around their mud-brick cottages.

In order to make best use of the water they can get in the dry season (and to stop crops washing away in the wet season), they put a lot of effort into tilling the soil into dome-shaped mounds (mainly planted with Cassava, which is pounded up to make a food paste & tastes like wallpaper paste). They plant the mounds in the centres to allow them easy access and to keep the crops from rotting.

Other than in the wet season, the water for irrigation has to be transported by hand from the village pump – it’s very rare that any accommodation will have a water supply, let alone electricity.

We camped at Makuzi Bay on the lakeshore. A really beautiful spot built 20 years ago by Brett and his wife. They have chalets and a simple bar on stilts built over a beach that looks like it’s been transported from somewhere on a small Caribbean island. It’s hard to believe it’s an inland lake.

Makuzi is set up for chalets ($90 per night) but does have 4 camping pitches on a terrace overlooking the beach. Brett explained they were pretty boggy due to the amount of rain they’d had but we wanted to stay so he managed to find us a reasonably dry spot next to one of the chalets.

A beautiful evening watching the locals and the Cormorants fishing from the rocks just off the beach.

Unfortunately yet more heavy rain arrived overnight. Makuzi sits in a beautiful, hilly bay but unfortunately that means when it rains all the water is funneled down through the terraces to the beach. The camp pitches were pretty much under water the next morning and Brett said that he thought they’d probably have to call the people booked in for Easter and cancel their booking.

The only other campers at Makuzi were Kirsty and Gareth, a couple of Australian overlanders who came in from Durban and are driving to the UK.

Because the campsite was out of action we had to move on and headed down to Kande Beach Camp with them, about 20km back the way we had come.

Malawi

Posted on April 16, 2014 by Scott CableApril 16, 2014

Very disappointed to leave Wildlife Camp at South Luangwa. it probably rates in our Top 5 so far.

However, we were Malawi bound. 180km or so back to Chipata, on the best road we’ve driven in Africa (probably because it’s the newest – lean your arm out of the window and it gets splashed with wet tar!).

We filled up with diesel in Chipata as we’d heard it’s cheaper than in Malawi good job too – 9.20 Zambian Kwacha per litre in Zambia (£0.90 / $1.50) but turns out 840 Malawi Kwacha per litre in Malawi (£1.35 / $2).

The border is only 30km from Chipata and was very straightforward to negotiate.

The usual mix of touts and sharp-looking money changes mobbing the car but actually only 10 minutes to get passports and Carnet stamped ‘out’ on the Zambian side, and about 30 minutes to get stamped ‘in’ on the Malawi side.

No visas to be paid for if you’re from Commonwealth countries (God bless Queen Victoria), no road-tax to pay for anything less than a 4-tonne truck (even with all the stuff we carry, that means we’re exempt) and only 1,200 Malawi Kwacha for 3rd-party insurance (£20 / $32).

Bargain.

We didn’t want to drive too far as Helene had been suffering from a heavy cold for a day or two so, 160km later, we turned up at Mabuya Backpackers in Lilongwe.

Cheap enough for camping (2,500 Kwacha / / $6) and a great curry for 3,000 Kwacha / $7. Secure, and cheap beer but nothing to write home about.

We met up with Bob from Australia who’s come in from Mombassa and is waiting for his wife to fly in and join them for a 6 month tour before heading to the UK. He’s driving a Defender 130 with a very unusual, folding rooftent that has a side compartment with a rigid floor.

Yours for only AU$32,000. That’s just the camper section, not the car etc.

A month or so after we’d had the US$ and our back-up passports ruined in Botswana by being soaked for days in 3-inches of water, I though I’d check out how the drying out was going.

Having heard you can put a wet mobile phone in a bag with some dry rice to absorb the moisture, I’d done the same with the money.

Not a good idea.

Opening the bag, the smell was like the slops-barrel of a Chinese backstreet boot-legging den. The bag had turned into a fermented, rice -pudding.

Like wallpaper paste, or a ‘$50 bill-ripple’ ice-cream.

No alternative other than to go into the money-laundering business for a couple of days.

All washed at the sink and dried (as unobtrusively as possible).

Judith sent us a plot of our general route so far on Google Earth. This one is a low-res version, but even that shows it’s been pretty circuitous. That’s deliberate, as we’ve tried to wait-out the rainy season in Central / Eastern Africa.

Waiting for the rains to pass is proving less and less successful as we head north.

We left Lilongwe for Lake Malawi – if we’re going to get wet, we may as well do it in a beautiful setting, rather than a typical sprawling African town centre.

Top Tip: stock up with Malawi Kwacha as soon as you arrive. 4 out of 5 cash machines don’t work or won’t take International Visa Debit cards. Fuel, camping etc must be paid for in cash and most ATMs only give out the equivalent of £50 maximum (in 1,000 Kwacha notes).

I had to go round 7 ATMs in Lilongwe to get the ‘wedge’ below. Even that’s only enough to fill the Land Rover tank 75%, and there are only 2 towns with (hopefully working) ATMs in the next 500km north.

The drive 140km N-East to Lake Malawi was very scenic. Very rural.

At first, rolling hillsides.

Then tobacco, rice and sugar-growing areas. Mostly small-scale share-cropping on a village-by-village basis rather than large commercial operations.

This is by some margin the most uniformly subsistence-economy country we’ve traveled through so far.

Very few towns. Many small rural villages. Beautiful countryside but the vast majority of people here live simply and on what they can grow.

Most settlements don’t have electricity to homes (although there may be a set of community buildings that do) and they get-by with a village water pump, rather than individual supplies. Buildings are typically mud-brick built. The fancier ones are rendered and painted.

We arrived at Senga Bay on Lake Malawi and found the campsite of The Livingstonia Hotel.

I don’t know what we expected of the lake, but I certainly didn’t expect it to be so beautiful. More like a sea than a lake.

Heavy skies agin. There’s been a lot of rain and any track off the tar road is fairly heavy going (there’s only one tar road east and most ‘destinations’ are between 5-15km off the tar).

Worth it though. The view from The Penthouse as we camped right on the beach.

No matter what the weather, African skies are stunning.

We planned to spend one night, but ended up being there 4 days. ‘Folding camper’ Ausi-Bob turned up and we spent a very pleasant few days with him, his wife Cheryl and their pal Gail.

Local fishermen work their small canoes off-shore and we bought 4 Chambo from Chris for 5,000 Kwacha ($11). A little watery when we cooked 2 of them in foil, but we’re looking forward to charcoal-cooking the others.

Below, in order to get the price up, he tells us how they fiercely they fight and what a massive struggle it was to land them at 5am that morning…

A really tranquil spot.

Until a family turned up Thursday night. Three adults and 6 kids in a small 4-seater saloon. How they managed it I don’t know. How they all got into a single-room 3-person tent I have absolutely no idea.

They made quite a lot of racket for a couple of hours (mostly just excited kid-noises though) until Bob told them to keep quiet around 9.30pm

Bob left at 8.30 the following morning (Friday).

At 9am the ‘sardine’ family brought a 1.5m high speaker out of the car (I can’t imagine where they had room for it) and played rap / drum and base music with the volume cranked up to ’11’ all day.

It was so loud they sat about 50m away from the speaker themselves.

Throughout the day, more local families turned up. Almost without exception they parked up their cars, turned up the stereo volume to ear-piercing levels, left the doors open and sat 30-50 metres away from the vehicles. Listening choices varied from beat-box to Party Political speeches for the elections due on 20th May.

By 7.30pm, aggravated by having caught Helene’s cold (but much worse than she had it) I lost my cool and stomped around telling then to turn the damn stuff down. Ten hours was enough!

Maybe Bob knew what was coming. How can it be he managed to leave 15 minutes before the mayhem started?

A real shame. A beautiful spot, cheap ($3 per night), fabulous views, private camper’s bar with cheap local beer (Kuche-Kuche $2 per 630ml bottle) and we’d recommend it to anyone visiting South/Central Lake Malawi.

But don’t go at the weekend!

Peaceful Sleep

Posted on April 12, 2014 by Scott CableApril 12, 2014

We left Will & Lindsey (still bickering) at Bridge Camp and drove about 250km east to Chipata (30km from the Malawi border). The first 100km or so was typical African wide sky, forested landscape.

For the latter 150km the landscape changed to undulating hills with the occasional peak to the south east. Lovely. What makes it even more picturesque is the quality of the light and the cloud formations.

Even if the roads were good enough to travel at more than 50mph / 80kph, why on earth would you rush through a landscape like that?

The few small towns we pass are typical of the region. People just getting by – entrepreneurs wherever you look, making a living out of anything they can sell. Grateful that someone (usually a telecom company) will pay to paint their store in corporate, sponsored colours.

And still, everywhere at the roadside, bags of charcoal being sold as the only fuel available to the everyday man.

It’s easy to say that it needs to be stopped, but it has provided a livelihood for generations of families and unless an alternative source of income is demonstrated, people aren’t going to give it up for some do-gooder, sanctimonious, ‘tourist’ passing through.

There has to be a way of getting Fuel Briquettes to work here.

After 5 hours driving we stopped overnight at Mama Rulah’s campsite in Chipata since South Luangwa (where we were headed) was another 120km on roads that we had heard were notoriously bad. The camp was cheap and clean enough, but nothing to write home about.

In fact, the next morning, the 120km road to the Park gate at South Luangwa was probably the best road we have traveled in Africa (12 months old, new tar, 10m wide).

The only marks on it are the discarded sugar-cane stalks from the school-kids who walk 6-10km each way to school every day with a 500mm stalk of sugar-cane for breakfast / lunch.

If it hadn’t been for the fact we needed cash and fuel (and Chipata is the last place before Mfuwe to get either) we could have just continued the previous day.

South Luangwa was beautiful.

We intended to stay overnight and in the end stayed 4 days. We tried Flatdogs Camp (Flatdogs is a local term for the low-slung, ground-hugging crocodile around here) but they have gone up-market as a lodge and stopped camping a year or two ago.

Very welcoming though. We stopped there for a chat and a coffee and they recommended Wildlife Camp, a project where 60% of accommodation income goes to the local community.

We lucked-out. What a great spot.

Panorama view downriver from The Penthouse after sunset from our camp on the Luangwa River.

An equally fabulous view from the roof-tent up river…

How could you not sleep peacefully nodding off to that?

Most of the tracks in the park are impassable at this time of the year (tail-end of the wet season ) but the all-weather roads are still ok and allow good sightings of waterbuck, hippo, elephant, springbok, occasional leopard, etc.

That said, from our pole-position camping pitch on the river we saw most of that without moving a muscle. Buffalo who set out across the river then turned back when they saw crocs…

…and fishermen who use the most primitive of hollowed-out logs to fish (then take the catch to market on their bikes)…

For a bit of added excitement, the quiet, traditional bar at the Lodge…

…is a 3/4 mile walk along the unfenced riverbank from the the campsite (far right of the picture below)…

That means a walk along the same river-front that elephants walk daily, crocs sneak about, hippos spray shit, giraffe gallop and lions patrol.

You’ve got to really need a beer to consider walking it at dusk. In broad daylight it still keeps you on your toes.

Actually, it’s just as good to sit at camp and watch the world (and the weather) go by. The world may not change quickly round here, but the weather certainly does. In no time, good dirt / sand tracks can become impassible for weeks.

11am on our 3rd day…

11.45 am…

Noon…

Eleven minutes later…

Since we’d had the car checked over by Foleys in Livingstone I’d noticed a whining noise, that appeared to be coming from the transmission (rather than the passenger seat).

Given my acknowledged mechanical expertise, I just hoped it would go away (or we’d get it sorted out once we got to Malawi). Helene convinced me to get a chap from the local workshop to look it over.

It turned out that the Universal Joints on the prop shaft were (technical term) ‘buggered‘ according to Moffat.

We took Moffat and his pal in the car to his village at the back-end of Mfuwe (most of the way spent driving sideways in the mud after the rains), where the guys went to work removing the propshaft and replacing the UJ’s.

Naturally, I supervised the delicate operation.

Helene did her normal amazing job of entertaining the village kids…

Ninety minutes of ‘Old McDonald‘ and ‘Hands, Knees & Toes‘…

She really is exceptional with people (especially kids).

She was exhausted

She has eyes they trust not to be cynical or patronising.

Worthwhile keeping them entertained though. As Moffat said, “If someone doesn’t keep them amused they’ll steal your tools – I should know, they’re my kids“.