Malawi: Lake Malawi to Zomba.

Tuesday 30th June: Malawi

We met for breakfast at 8am and I managed to update the blog, but not the pictures. Natalie joined us just after 8.30 and once we’d paid our bill & bade farewell to Chris & Sandi, we were on the road again.

It took 2½ hours to reach Salima, the town where we would leave Natalie. It was a very windy morning, the roads are narrow & driving was a bit of a challenge because it seemed the whole population of Malawi was out walking on the road. With the strong wind unsettling a lot of cyclists, it meant we had to be extra careful not to hit one. Later in the morning,  a cyclist came out of a field. We all expected him to stop but he actually rode across the road in front of us, a mere 20 feet away from a very strong & solid bullbar.  Evasive action was taken which resulted in him living to act stupid another day.

A couple of hours further on, we arrived at yet another roadblock. They appear with regularity so after a while, they don’t really bother you, if everything is in order. A little while earlier, we had been stopped by the army, who were carrying out a full scale search of vehicles. That went fine & we were on our way quickly. However, the next police stop was clearly set with the intention of extracting as much money as possible from motorists. In fact, so blatant was it that they had a cashier’s office right there. Our policeman was trained in the fine art of this and set about his investigation. First thing he checked was the Malawi insurance sticker on the windscreen. His face lit up, it had expired in March. I leaned out to tell him we had a blanket policy (Comesa) for most of Africa and he put his book of tickets away when I showed him the very dodgy Comesa card.

That passed, because most of them really don’t know anything about it, but it had the word ‘Insurance’ on it & our car registration number. Next, the drivers driving license, all in order. Now for the Warning Triangle: yes we have that & showed it. How about a fire extinguisher, yes again. Then they started a search of the vehicle, wanting to see the contents of our safe and a description of everything in the back as well as on the roofrack. Finally, when he looked all but doomed, he pointed at our front bull bar & asked where our reflectors were. Reflectors?? On the front of a vehicle?? He had us, though I did point out that it was a private vehicle and not commercial & didn’t feel that it was really a requirement. Was there a private car in sight to compare with, no there wasn’t. He wasn’t for moving so I asked him to write up his ticket so we could get on our way.

While we were in the cashiers, paying our 1,600 Kwacha ($12), another poor soul (a local) was being done for exactly the same thing & came in with his ticket. As I returned to Dusty, a car pulled up, overloaded with people and clearly creaking at the seams. What do you know, no reflectors. I quickly pointed this out to another policeman who shrugged his shoulders and waved the car on. I guess we just got the awkward one today. Nonetheless, we’re going to cut up two sticky backed bits of silver duck tape & stick them on today. If you wonder why they're so bothered about reflectors on the front bumper, it’s probably because so many drive around at night with no lights. Will they have a fire extinguisher or warning triangle? Doubtful. Some vehicles look like they’re kept together with elastic bands and others just have a sticker, asking for help from above, to stay alive. 

 

We headed for Zomba but only got about 500 yards down the road to another police check. This could turn out to be a long day. We mentioned our previous stop and the fact that this was a bit intrusive, and he waved us on our way. Now, perhaps we could make it the remaining 60 kms or so to Zomba.

We did, and when we got there, needed to visit an ATM to get cash. There were three in this town, two of them with very long queues, a common sight in Africa, particularly on the last day of the month when pay goes in. The third had no one but we quickly found out why. It was broken. We joined the queue for the Standard Bank, it was cold & we were dressed for the warmth of the lake we left that morning.

 

Only one of the two machines worked and we waited patiently with everyone else. At last, probably after about 30 minutes, it was my turn. Up I strode, went to put my card in and the slot locked. A message popped up on the screen to say the ATM was closed. Now what? Well, we needed money so we stood there for another 20-30 minutes while they were obviously working inside to repair it. The other one was actually already removed so someone stuck their head in the hole to tell them we now had none. It fired into life, I was very reluctant to be the first one to stick my card in so I went up & pretended it didn’t work, letting another guy in the queue then try his. Success. 

 

We all got our money out & set about finding accommodation. We finished up at Forest Lodge, which is really just a small cottage at the top of a mountain. It had been recommended to us by Sandi, at our previous hotel.  The owners weren’t there, there was no electricity, just candle light and it was freezing up there. The chef asked to speak to us and said he hadn’t been told about us, but had chicken. The other two guests, a UK couple, had placed their baggage in one of the other rooms but would remove it if we stayed. John, as always, was easy. He’d do whatever.

We headed back to town. We found another hotel, both of us got an upgrade to an exec room & it had electricity, but no food. We walked down the road to Annie's Lodge & had dinner there. The place looked good when we checked it out earlier, but it had no rooms available. The food was just awful, chicken curries and a beef curry. My beef looked like pellets; in fact it could well have been dried dog food for all I know. It was all cold but we munched through it. Finally, came the time to call it a night &  wish farewell to a day that went downhill from the word go.