Time for the Beach
Malawi is a seriously laid back sort of place.
It has a reputation for friendly people, perfect beaches, and also Malwi
Gold which managed to elude me although I tried all the other local beers.
Our first port of call was the capital, Lilongwe, which has little to offer
the traveller except for an excellent travellers’ rest at Kiboko Camp, where
you find genuine overlanders with stories of their travels to distant lands
etc. etc., and who also knew which bars to drag me too, and also how to pour
enough beer down my neck to ensure that I suffered a 7-0 whitewash in a game
of pool for the first time in my life. At least I was wearing clean
Laura and Penny had
booked a diving course for the following week at Nkhata bay, so they decided
to come down to Cape Maclear for the weekend – getting there was an ordeal
as the road building programme is in a fair amount of disarray, but we
managed eventually to bounce our way to the Fat Monkey, to the absolute glee
of the local mossie population.
Lake Malawi is one of
those very special places which can exert a strong hold on the passing
traveller – I was hard put to focus on the impending rains on the coast, and
very nearly signed up for a nitrox course with Glenn Campbell who runs Scuba
Shack, an excellent PADI dive centre. Will power prevailed, and after a
couple of dives, and a relaxing weekend, I folded up my tent and left, via
of course the renowned Chembe Lodge who just happened to offer a generator,
cold beer, and DSTV at exactly the same time as England crushed Uruguay
111-13. Coincidence? You must be kidding.
So here I am in Blantyre
at another great little haven, Doogles, where I’m sadly captivated by my
first ADSL connection since Cape Town, and find myself sitting at a keyboard
all day when there are perfectly good beaches waiting for me in Mozambique.
Hmmm… Time to move East…