Malawi Bradt update adventure begins! Tuesday, June 16: Dar to Kyela (Border)
My bags arrived at 3am, however, my taxi did not arrive at 5am. Having slept only about an hour, I didn’t waste any time nor energy fretting over the absent taxi as there were 3 waiting outside. I was eager to get to the bus station as well as anxious as such locations can often be quite chaotic with shady characters (especially in such a large city). It seems that often my emotions float freely between anxiety and elation as I travel. One second my mind runs wild with all of the “what ifs” and the next my being tells me to trust my instincts, leaving the rest to fate. (This is what adventure is all about!)
Arriving at the bus station in darkness, my taxi driver stopped outside the gates. I asked my taxi driver to enter the station and drive me directly to the bus. He would not, saying that it was impossible, taxis were not allowed (my taxi had done so the day before). I was leery to step out into the bus station madness: porters grabbing bags from passengers, bus staff shouting and pulling people this way and that, kids selling things, headlights beaming, engines revving needlessly. I fought him on it and so he drove me inside the gates.
I made it to my “luxury” bus without any issues. The buses were situated in rows and easy to navigate as once one person found out where I was going and with what company, I had 12 escorts. I boarded the bus and found my seat, with someone in it, so I chose another one behind the assigned one. I was relieved to remember that such tasks are often are completed without any major complications. I’ve never personally had a real problem, aside annoyance, but the anecdotes of thefts and such tend to be plenty, so it can get in my head.
From my window seat, I groggily watched the bus station show and silently hoped that the advertised 12 hour ride was indeed 12 and not 20. Mid thought, all of the buses lurched forward at once! My bus was perpendicular to another row of buses so high beams were screaming through the windows as all of the 50-passenger buses vied for position to leave the station! Buses came within inches of each other as they aggressively jockeyed for departure.
Once into position, we inched toward the gate to begin our 15-hour sweaty bus ride. I slept most of it, but made sure I was awake as we drove through Mikumi National Park. Glad I did! I saw a giraffe, zebras, impalas, and monkeys. (Complementary mini safari with my sweaty bus ride!)
At the border town of Kyela, a nice older woman let me share a two-minute taxi ride with her to a hotel. I had looked up a few places to stay but in the dark (again bus station madness, taxis and porters trying to steal your business), I thought it best to take her advice and go to the Sitima Inn. The room was 20,000 TS (about $10) for fairly clean accommodation, en suite bathroom, and breakfast. Done! Home for the night!
My bags arrived at 3am, however, my taxi did not arrive at 5am. Having slept only about an hour, I didn’t waste any time nor energy fretting over the absent taxi as there were 3 waiting outside. I was eager to get to the bus station as well as anxious as such locations can often be quite chaotic with shady characters (especially in such a large city). It seems that often my emotions float freely between anxiety and elation as I travel. One second my mind runs wild with all of the “what ifs” and the next my being tells me to trust my instincts, leaving the rest to fate. (This is what adventure is all about!)
Arriving at the bus station in darkness, my taxi driver stopped outside the gates. I asked my taxi driver to enter the station and drive me directly to the bus. He would not, saying that it was impossible, taxis were not allowed (my taxi had done so the day before). I was leery to step out into the bus station madness: porters grabbing bags from passengers, bus staff shouting and pulling people this way and that, kids selling things, headlights beaming, engines revving needlessly. I fought him on it and so he drove me inside the gates.
I made it to my “luxury” bus without any issues. The buses were situated in rows and easy to navigate as once one person found out where I was going and with what company, I had 12 escorts. I boarded the bus and found my seat, with someone in it, so I chose another one behind the assigned one. I was relieved to remember that such tasks are often are completed without any major complications. I’ve never personally had a real problem, aside annoyance, but the anecdotes of thefts and such tend to be plenty, so it can get in my head.
From my window seat, I groggily watched the bus station show and silently hoped that the advertised 12 hour ride was indeed 12 and not 20. Mid thought, all of the buses lurched forward at once! My bus was perpendicular to another row of buses so high beams were screaming through the windows as all of the 50-passenger buses vied for position to leave the station! Buses came within inches of each other as they aggressively jockeyed for departure.
Once into position, we inched toward the gate to begin our 15-hour sweaty bus ride. I slept most of it, but made sure I was awake as we drove through Mikumi National Park. Glad I did! I saw a giraffe, zebras, impalas, and monkeys. (Complementary mini safari with my sweaty bus ride!)
At the border town of Kyela, a nice older woman let me share a two-minute taxi ride with her to a hotel. I had looked up a few places to stay but in the dark (again bus station madness, taxis and porters trying to steal your business), I thought it best to take her advice and go to the Sitima Inn. The room was 20,000 TS (about $10) for fairly clean accommodation, en suite bathroom, and breakfast. Done! Home for the night!
Lady trying to sell me fish through the minibus window! Wednesday, June 17: Kyela to Lilongwe
I woke pretty early, ready to cross the border and get to Malawi. I waited for the kitchen to open at 6:30am, hoping to scarf down some food and get on my way. Of course, as I should know by now, Africa doesn’t work with time the same way as the rest of the world. (One of the women I met in Lilongwe said, “The Dutch have the watches and the Malawians have the time!” – so true for all of the countries I’ve visited in Africa!) By 8am I ate and was out the door to get a mini bus to the border. It took me another hour to get to the border… less than 15 kilometers away! At 9 I made the multistep process to cross the border.
My taxi driver insisted that I exchange money on the Tanzanian side, when I specifically said I wanted to exchange on the Malawian side. Either way, I exchanged $50 because the exchange rate they offered was better than the one posted online when I left Dar (black market?). I handed over my passport to a woman at the Tanzania border, got an exit stamp, and went on my way to cross the river to Malawi.
At the Malawi immigration office I handed over my WHO card and passport. The woman at the desk who did not look at me… she was watching cartoons the entire time she processed my paperwork! She’d read a line or two, look at the TV, read a line, TV, put the stamp on the ink pad, TV, look at my passport for stamp placement, TV, stamp my passport, TV, look at my passport, TV, hand me my passport, TV, “Thank you,” TV.
Outside the door of the immigration office an Izuzu truck offered to take me to Lilongwe direct for 10,000 kwacha ($23). I politely declined, was pressured into the ride again, and politely declined again. “Direct! Direct! Only 10,000 kwacha!” I then was pretty honest and told them that it wasn’t safe for me to travel by Izuzu with one other person, a male driver, whom I did not know.
As they (they being the people who always want to “help”- some genuine, others most likely not) were escorting me to where the buses lined up, they kept saying “Izuzu 5,000, Izuzu, 5,000!” and I kept saying, “I don’t want an Izuzu!” When we reached the buses the sign in the window said Mzuzu – a city in Malawi! Aha! That is what they were saying! I had conditioned myself to ask for Karonga, not expecting a bus to go all the way to Mzuzu.
I am not proud to say I got a little snippy with the people at the border bus station. They were pushier than the bus station folks in Dar, it seemed! I had a little flash back to “Ethiopia Sandy”, a Sandy that could get aggressive with the slightest provocation. (I was in Ethiopia for about two years and had developed a severe case of cultural fatigue.) I chose a bus based on the driver who seemed most gentle in his interactions in order to avoid more time spent pulled by my arms and people grabbing at my things (all ten of them). I thrust out my hand toward the man and said, “My name is Sandra, what is your name?.... Moses, let’s go.” I realized I was over reacting and mostly just wanted to get out of the limelight… the only foreigner at the border.
We departed around 10am and arrived at Mzuzu at 2:30pm. The lakeside towns made me smile. I could smell the fish as we drove through and I had many opportunities to buy fish from the bus window. I relaxed and reminded myself to be open to Malawi for all it is and is not.
For me, it is important to remind myself to allow Malawi to be its own, instead of trying to box it in with the “Africa” I’ve come to know. As much as I try to differentiate in conversation with friends and family, it always seems to end up, “Sandy was in Africa” instead of “Sandy was in Ethiopia” or “Sandy is going to Malawi” and thus I find myself resorting to the same phrasing, and in doing so, it curbs my thinking as well. But I guess that is how we learn the world, by comparison, and so if it weren’t Ethiopia, I’d be saying… “in Thailand.”
Anyway, I made it to Mzuzu, waited four hours for a bus to depart to Lilongwe. Leaving in the darkness, something I was trying to avoid, I hoped the ride would be without incident (as I hope they all are, of course), as I had never travelled by bus at night in Africa.
I arrived in Lilongwe at 3 am, was very kindly picked up by the driver of the Kumbali Country Lodge, my hosts for the next two days.
Thursday, June 18: Bus lag and Kumbali Country Lodge
I began my Bradt research from here, spending a half a morning to getting organized and putting my brain back on. Midday, with the help of a Kumbali driver, I began to pop in to places to update the book. I felt overwhelmed! I couldn’t have done it without a driver! So many places and not fast enough legs! Anyway, the main highlights of my stay at Kumbali were the people! My hosts were very kind to me and helped me get situated to really dig into updating. They “made” me play volleyball and even transferred me to my next location. Malawi was living up to its reputation: very helpful and friendly people!
I woke pretty early, ready to cross the border and get to Malawi. I waited for the kitchen to open at 6:30am, hoping to scarf down some food and get on my way. Of course, as I should know by now, Africa doesn’t work with time the same way as the rest of the world. (One of the women I met in Lilongwe said, “The Dutch have the watches and the Malawians have the time!” – so true for all of the countries I’ve visited in Africa!) By 8am I ate and was out the door to get a mini bus to the border. It took me another hour to get to the border… less than 15 kilometers away! At 9 I made the multistep process to cross the border.
My taxi driver insisted that I exchange money on the Tanzanian side, when I specifically said I wanted to exchange on the Malawian side. Either way, I exchanged $50 because the exchange rate they offered was better than the one posted online when I left Dar (black market?). I handed over my passport to a woman at the Tanzania border, got an exit stamp, and went on my way to cross the river to Malawi.
At the Malawi immigration office I handed over my WHO card and passport. The woman at the desk who did not look at me… she was watching cartoons the entire time she processed my paperwork! She’d read a line or two, look at the TV, read a line, TV, put the stamp on the ink pad, TV, look at my passport for stamp placement, TV, stamp my passport, TV, look at my passport, TV, hand me my passport, TV, “Thank you,” TV.
Outside the door of the immigration office an Izuzu truck offered to take me to Lilongwe direct for 10,000 kwacha ($23). I politely declined, was pressured into the ride again, and politely declined again. “Direct! Direct! Only 10,000 kwacha!” I then was pretty honest and told them that it wasn’t safe for me to travel by Izuzu with one other person, a male driver, whom I did not know.
As they (they being the people who always want to “help”- some genuine, others most likely not) were escorting me to where the buses lined up, they kept saying “Izuzu 5,000, Izuzu, 5,000!” and I kept saying, “I don’t want an Izuzu!” When we reached the buses the sign in the window said Mzuzu – a city in Malawi! Aha! That is what they were saying! I had conditioned myself to ask for Karonga, not expecting a bus to go all the way to Mzuzu.
I am not proud to say I got a little snippy with the people at the border bus station. They were pushier than the bus station folks in Dar, it seemed! I had a little flash back to “Ethiopia Sandy”, a Sandy that could get aggressive with the slightest provocation. (I was in Ethiopia for about two years and had developed a severe case of cultural fatigue.) I chose a bus based on the driver who seemed most gentle in his interactions in order to avoid more time spent pulled by my arms and people grabbing at my things (all ten of them). I thrust out my hand toward the man and said, “My name is Sandra, what is your name?.... Moses, let’s go.” I realized I was over reacting and mostly just wanted to get out of the limelight… the only foreigner at the border.
We departed around 10am and arrived at Mzuzu at 2:30pm. The lakeside towns made me smile. I could smell the fish as we drove through and I had many opportunities to buy fish from the bus window. I relaxed and reminded myself to be open to Malawi for all it is and is not.
For me, it is important to remind myself to allow Malawi to be its own, instead of trying to box it in with the “Africa” I’ve come to know. As much as I try to differentiate in conversation with friends and family, it always seems to end up, “Sandy was in Africa” instead of “Sandy was in Ethiopia” or “Sandy is going to Malawi” and thus I find myself resorting to the same phrasing, and in doing so, it curbs my thinking as well. But I guess that is how we learn the world, by comparison, and so if it weren’t Ethiopia, I’d be saying… “in Thailand.”
Anyway, I made it to Mzuzu, waited four hours for a bus to depart to Lilongwe. Leaving in the darkness, something I was trying to avoid, I hoped the ride would be without incident (as I hope they all are, of course), as I had never travelled by bus at night in Africa.
I arrived in Lilongwe at 3 am, was very kindly picked up by the driver of the Kumbali Country Lodge, my hosts for the next two days.
Thursday, June 18: Bus lag and Kumbali Country Lodge
I began my Bradt research from here, spending a half a morning to getting organized and putting my brain back on. Midday, with the help of a Kumbali driver, I began to pop in to places to update the book. I felt overwhelmed! I couldn’t have done it without a driver! So many places and not fast enough legs! Anyway, the main highlights of my stay at Kumbali were the people! My hosts were very kind to me and helped me get situated to really dig into updating. They “made” me play volleyball and even transferred me to my next location. Malawi was living up to its reputation: very helpful and friendly people!
Bakkie = pickup... trusty wheels for the first bit of my research! Friday, June 19: Bakkie
Feeling as though I had wasted a few days getting my head on, asked to pickup the truck I’d be using for the next few weeks a bit early. I was nervous to learn to drive on the other side of the road, on the other side of the car, and in a new country! (If you can’t tell already, this week was full of a lot of firsts for me and I had this tingle in my gut saying… hmm this is new… see what happens!)
Well, as I pulled out of the car park in the Nissan diesel pickup (the cage on the back was used to game reserve transport animals at one point), I think the manager of Barefoot Safaris Lilongwe had doubts about my ability to drive… to be fair, as did I! My left had seemed disconnected from my brain as I tried to shift. I was overthinking it all, staying very far to the left of the road, one tire basically off the tarmac. I white-knuckled the steering wheel every time I made a turn, went through a round about, and every time another vehicle would pass me.
Feeling as though I had wasted a few days getting my head on, asked to pickup the truck I’d be using for the next few weeks a bit early. I was nervous to learn to drive on the other side of the road, on the other side of the car, and in a new country! (If you can’t tell already, this week was full of a lot of firsts for me and I had this tingle in my gut saying… hmm this is new… see what happens!)
Well, as I pulled out of the car park in the Nissan diesel pickup (the cage on the back was used to game reserve transport animals at one point), I think the manager of Barefoot Safaris Lilongwe had doubts about my ability to drive… to be fair, as did I! My left had seemed disconnected from my brain as I tried to shift. I was overthinking it all, staying very far to the left of the road, one tire basically off the tarmac. I white-knuckled the steering wheel every time I made a turn, went through a round about, and every time another vehicle would pass me.
Bertrand! Saturday, June 20: Bertrand, my tour guide!
While wandering around Lilongwe, I met Bertrand. He was very familiar with the Bradt guide and with Lilongwe so he offered to wander around with me. He saved me hours of looking for places that were closed and showed me some new, popular spots. Big thanks go out to Bertrand for the help!
Sunset fishermen at Chia Lagoon
Sunday, June 21: Driving the Lake
Getting to the lakeside to start my northern loop as the sun was setting…
Getting to the lakeside to start my northern loop as the sun was setting…
 Bua River at Tongole | Tuesday, June 23: Tongole Wilderness Lodge and the 4 Star Illness I had a proper welcome from a case of “poo finger” that I picked up from, I believe, a little girl who wandered around Nkhotakota with me. I had a wonderful first afternoon at Tongole, canoeing the Bua River, watching crocodiles, and enjoying an “MG&T” – Malawi gin and tonic sundowner on the riverbank. That evening I had a delicious four course meal that I got to taste twice… No sooner had I gone to bed than I sprang out through the bed net, ran to the toilet and violently tossed my cookies. I did this every 10-20 minutes until 4am… and my other end decided to join in as well… making it quite the double dragon experience. I will say, throwing up in a 4star toilet feels the same as it did in Ethiopia… but the other end was comforted with softer tissue! Wednesday, June 24: Tongole Recovered I slept all day… ate a piece of toast for dinner… and then slept all night. |
Bua River
Thursday, June 25: Bua River
Finally well enough to actually enjoy Nkhotakota Wildlife Reserve, I went on a sundowner walk up river to some calm pools. I woke early the next morning to walk to some waterfalls and watched the crocs some out to bask in the sun.
Friday, June 26: Ngala Martinis
I left the reserve and made it back to the lakeshore where I promptly dipped in before doing more work. The owners, Barbs and Alan, and their neighbor, a writer/teacher/ex-banker being properly distracted from his book by Malawi, joined me for dinner and drinks that evening. Our laughter serenaded the setting sun over the playful lake. What fun folks I’ve been able to meet in my travels! I’ve had so many engaging conversations, met many light-hearted people, eaten wonderful food, and had many playful moments in my travels so far. I think I like this job…
In the effort to aid Simon, the writer, in his research for his book we made a few martinis with different gins, comparing the local to the import. Lets just say it was hard to get on my way the next morning!
Finally well enough to actually enjoy Nkhotakota Wildlife Reserve, I went on a sundowner walk up river to some calm pools. I woke early the next morning to walk to some waterfalls and watched the crocs some out to bask in the sun.
Friday, June 26: Ngala Martinis
I left the reserve and made it back to the lakeshore where I promptly dipped in before doing more work. The owners, Barbs and Alan, and their neighbor, a writer/teacher/ex-banker being properly distracted from his book by Malawi, joined me for dinner and drinks that evening. Our laughter serenaded the setting sun over the playful lake. What fun folks I’ve been able to meet in my travels! I’ve had so many engaging conversations, met many light-hearted people, eaten wonderful food, and had many playful moments in my travels so far. I think I like this job…
In the effort to aid Simon, the writer, in his research for his book we made a few martinis with different gins, comparing the local to the import. Lets just say it was hard to get on my way the next morning!
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