Luckily we caught the last khombi out of Sowa and were dropped off at Dukwe, a village on the main road to Kasane. Because it was Easter Sunday, there was no available public transportation in site. We tried hitch hiking but as a big group of 8, I imagine we were quite a turn off. Using his amazing negotiation skills, Lucas convinced a man who owned a khombi to drive the group of us to Nata. So again we charted our own khombi =)
Nata has a large petrol station that is a popular stop for tourists and public trans. We thought for sure we would be able to flag down a ride. Instead we found bus load after bus load of nuns. In Botswana, churches will typically rent the buses over Easter weekend for retreats. We finally decided to split up and just meet in Kasane. Lucas, me, and another couple traveling with us, the Pappajohns, got a rather comfortable ride in an SUV. Unfortunately the rest of our group was stuck in the back of a pick up and arrived in Kasane windburned, sunburned and perhaps a little bruised. But we all managed to catch site of several elephants along the road. They leave feces the size of soccer balls!
After joining the 8th member of our group, we stayed with a Peace Corps couple, Tom and Jana, serving in Kasane. Tom accompanied us to watch the world-famous Kasane sunset over the Chobe National Park. Beautiful! Most of us set up camp outside as to not overcrowd the house. Again it rained, and again we found that all of our gear was soaked.
We got up early and headed to the boarder. Zambia doesn’t share an official boarder with Botswana. So we have to ferry across the Zambezi River which Lucas and I had done back in January. Catching the end of rainy season this time the water level had risen quite a bit. We watched as 18-wheelers waded through 3 feet of water to drive up onto the ferry. Once on board we noticed a bus on the ferry with us traveling from Livingstone to Lusaka. Coincidently we were traveling to Lusaka as well! After negotiating a double entry visa through Zambia at the boarder crossing ($80US, OMG!), we arranged for all of us to take the Lusaka bus. Luck was on our side.
We had the majority of the bus to ourselves until we arrived in Livingstone where every seat was filled. What’s nice about Zambia bus service is that every passenger is required to have a seat where as in other southern African countries, there could be several dozen people standing in the aisles. Although we were crowded and hot, the conductor tried to make us feel as welcome as possible by handing out bottles of coke and vanilla cake. It was like first class service. A Zambian man explained that the Zambian bus service is very competitive and will take extra care in keeping buses clean and providing good customer service. Lucas and I were the only ones in our group who had been as far north as Livingstone but it was all new territory after that. We went several hours without seeing any villages, which meant no bathroom stops. The flora in Zambia is quite different from the Kalahari Desert where most of us live in Botswana. There was so much lush vegetation it was like being in an African jungle.
We arrived in Lusaka late. After loading up on Zambian kwatcha, we took taxis to a nearby travelers stop, ChaChaCha Backpackers. Lucas and I tried hanging our wet clothes out in our hostel room in the few hours we would be there. I’m sure our German roommates didn’t appreciate the smell…I went to bed early. At about 3 am we woke up to catch an early bus to Chipata. We got descent seats in the back of the bus. The bus stopped several times in small villages where women and children would try to sell us baby bananas and boiled peanuts. I got my first experiences with public bathrooms, which consisted of a hole in the floor. It’s actually more sanitary because you don’t have to sit on anything and risk getting some funk on your bum. It took me a while to figure out which way to face, and then to “flush” with a bucket of water from a barrel in the bathroom. Oh, and there’s no doors on any of the stalls.
Chipata is the closest to the Malawian boarder by bus. From there we negotiated a price for a khombi to take us to the boarder, along with a couple from Holland and a Canadian. I learned that I HATE haggling. I started appreciating Botswana’s system of a flat rate. It’s so frustrating dealing with a language you don’t understand using currency you’re not used to. Once we arrived at the boarder, we were bombarded by money changers, men who exchange currency for you. We were told earlier an acceptable rate for exchange from Zambian kwatcha to Malawian kwatcha (a big difference in fact). Most of us got through ok although a few lost quite a bit in exchange (Lucas lost almost P60).
After a smooth transition through the boarder, we arrived in Malawi! It was hard to believe we were in Botswana only the day before. From there we had to take a taxi to Mchinji, then a minibus to Lilongwe, the capitol of Malawi. We convinced the driver to stop by the shops so we could load up on groceries and more cash (sometimes it pays to be in a large group!). When we arrived at Mabuya Backpackers, we were overwhelmed by the number of bikers. Apparently Mabuya is one of the stops on the ‘From Cairo to Cape Town’ bicycle tour. There were people from dozens of countries. One major bonus was that the bar was offering free beer! We managed to squeeze in for a meal (chickpeas and rice, so amazing) and even treated ourselves to ice cream. I was so happy. After a much needed shower and playing some cards, we curled up in our tents once again.
Another early morning rushing to the bus rank to catch a bus to Mzuzu. We had a nutritious breakfast of boiled egg, fat cake, and baby bananas. After several hours on the bus without stopping, I needed a bathroom break. I held off as long as I could until I had a headache and my stomach hurt. The bus paused to let some people board and I hauled off the bus, looking for the most private spot I could. I eventually just dropped trou behind a building and relived myself. It was very embarrassing but I was so happy when I got back on the bus (thankfully they hadn’t drove off without me).
Time lined up perfectly when we arrived at the bus rank in Mzuzu. We immediately hopped on the last khombi going to Chitimba. The drive was amazing once we got a glimpse of Lake Malawi. You could see Tanzania on the other side of the lake. We were up and down mountains and watched as baboons chased after the khombi hoping dumb tourists would throw food out the window for them.
We were dropped at Mdokera’s Beach Campsite, located right on the Lake Malawi shore. We were the only guests and were treated like it. After a quick tour, Mdokera took our dinner and beer requests. Although Lake Malawi has a bad reputation for getting swimmers sick, we couldn’t resist and jumped right in. After 3 days on a bus, it was heavenly. We showered under a bucket hanging from a tree and set up camp. Mdokera hired some boys to collect some drift bamboo that had washed ashore into piles so that we could have bon fires on the beach. We met some fishermen who were just about to paddle out to fish for the night. Two boats work as a team, one adorned with lights finds the fish while the boat behind catches and cleans the fish. Fishing will go on all night. So throughout the night we could see lights glowing on the horizon where the fishermen were. After an amazing, traditional Malawian meal (similar to Setswana food) we convened by the beach bon fire. Temptation took over and we went skinny dipping in the lake. Unfortunately we didn’t notice the boys sleeping on the sand until our clothes were already off.
Mdokera’s Campsite offers a unique option of sleeping in beds built in trees. The owner was reluctant to let anyone sleep in the trees because it was the rainy season but Tori and Mary convinced him otherwise. Unfortunately it did rain, again. We woke up early to watch the sunrise on the lake. And we noticed Mdokera had taken down our clothes from the clothes line so they wouldn’t get rained on and replaced them when the rain stopped. I have never had such great customer service.
We were a bit nervous packing up our things. This was our first official hiking day and we had a heck of a day ahead of us. Our destination was Livingstonia, a historic European village over 100 years old located on the top of a mountain. We later learned the desire to build a village on a mountain was because mosquitoes couldn’t breed at that altitude and the settlers had lost several settlements due to malaria. Because the hike was extremely steep and long (15 km), we agreed that we would try and hitch hike while we were hiking. Not long after I fell to the back of the group (I’m always in the back), a car pulled up with two Irish men. The last four people in our group, me, Lucas, Mary, and Colin, loaded into their tiny vehicle along with our packs. We learned the men were in seminary and doing some work with the hospital in Livingstonia. About 5 km into the drive, we realized we were too much weight for the small car as it was dragging along big rocks in the dirt road not to mention hard on the gas tank as it struggled up the steep hillsides. The four of us eventually decided to get out and walk but thankfully the men agreed to take our packs to the top for us.
The walk was steep but a wonderful relief without our packs. Guilt started to settle on us when we realized the rest of our group was not getting a lift. We stopped at a backpackers on the side of the mountain, The Mushroom Farm Backpackers, run by an Australian man. We convinced the Aussie to open up the bar so we could sample some Malawian beers even though it wasn’t even noon yet. The selection included a stout, Kutche Kutche, and Carlsburg. At the backpackers we met two British volunteers and an American traveler. Together we walked the remaining of the hike to Livingstonia. We were able to flag down our packs and headed to a restaurant to have lunch.
By this time we were concerned that the rest of group wouldn’t make it to the top of the mountain by the time the sun went down. Another concern was that several people were telling us that we would not be able to enter Nyika Park from the east entrance. According to all the tour books we read, we were expected to come into the national park through the west entrance where Chelinda Lodge is located. Chelinda offers guided tours and accommodation. But they offer tourist’s prices as well. All of us were pretty convinced we could manage the hike without a guide but knew that Chelinda would never allow it. So we planned on going through the “back door” so to speak. But it seemed no one in Livinstonia even knew where the park entrance was.
John and Tori arrived without packs and without Sadie and Amy. Apparently their group was hearing the same stories of being turned away at the park as we were. They decided Tori and John would go and fetch us and we would have to travel to the west end of the park. After a short pow wow, we decided we had come too close and would risk wasting too much time and money to start over. Tori and John stayed behind to get some food, and Colin, Lucas and I walked back down the trail to find Sadie, Amy and the packs. We found them at a Malawian home stomping sorghum and learning the local language from a group of young girls. Thankfully they weren’t too upset about having to keep hiking because they had had such a good cultural experience with this Malawian family.
We reached Livingstonia after dark and decided to camp outside a bed/breakfast, The Stoney House. The next morning a man arrived offering to be our guide to Nyika Park (word gets around fast in a small, African village). We explained to him once we got into the park, we would need a guide to take us through the park. He convinced us he could find a guide and negotiate a price we set. Things were starting to come together. Our self-appointed guide Thomas started off on the hike in his dress shoes and an umbrella while we trailed behind with our 35+ lb packs. After a few kilometers we stopped by Thomas’ friend’s house who is a wildlife guide for Nyika. He agreed to the price we offered. And even brought along his own gun (he claimed one was necessary if an animal were to attack). The gun took us a little off guard. Guns are illegal in Botswana and most of us had not seen one in over a year. But Andrew appeared very trustworthy.
The hike to Chikaka (the last village outside the park) was a rough one. When we signed on for this trip, a huge draw was that it was across a plateau, considered a relatively flat surface. What we didn’t count on was hiking across the mountain range that apparently surrounds the plateau. But the views were well worth it. There were terrace farms dug into the sides of mountains growing coffee beans, tobacco, and bananas. Along the way we bought some fresh tomatoes, avocados as big as butternut squash, and sugar cane from a small market. Once we got to Chikaka, Thomas bid us farewell. We camped at a coffee bean farm along a river. The farm had a small shelter where we could cook meals. We were not there long before the local children came to investigate. We had our first camp meal and settled in for the night.
The next day we learned that two in our group were so sick they couldn’t continue hiking that day. We decided to take a 0 day (refers to the number of miles/km hiked in a day) and relax. Secretly I think we were all happy to not have to hike that day, we were all exhausted. A man came to visit us to sell some dried coffee beans from his farm. We explained we couldn’t do anything with coffee beans. He went home, roasted the beans, crushed them, and returned with fresh coffee grounds. We bought the grounds, filtered them through a clean bandana, and had fresh coffee in the farm that the beans were grown. Because it rained most of the day, we decided to lay low. Andrew went to visit some friends. Boredom eventually overcame the children and they began pestering us; stealing our things, and throwing rocks at us when we went into the bush to use the bathroom. I have a newfound love for Botswana children.
When Andrew returned, he offered to take us on a tour of the nearby village. Sadie agreed to stay behind to accompany the sick and the rest of us went with Andrew. He introduced us to the chief, who was at the local meeting place drinking traditional brew. We got to try some and agreed it was better than Botswana’s Chabuku. Some of the small children had never seen white people and started crying. We met the local pastor and toured his church. We met the school master, toured his school, and met his wives (polygamy is practiced in Malawi). Everyone was very welcoming. For whatever reason, everyone we met wanted to give us their address. I’m not sure if they were hoping we could send donations or what but we now have a long list of pen pals if we want.
The next morning everyone appeared healthy so we continued our journey. We crossed streams and continued our up-down journey. Finally, we got into the park. The plateau is nothing like I’ve ever seen. It looks like something out of a nursery rhyme. By that time we were at the cloud line and the temperature was very cold. We set up camp under one of the few trees in the park. There was a nearby creek we could gather cooking/drinking water from. The water in Nyika Park is so clean, we didn’t have to filter. At this point in the trip many people’s tents were leaking or the tent poles were broken. Traveling through southern Africa is not easy on camping gear. Because my sleeping bag was still wet, I slept very cold that night.
The next morning we were so cold we ate ramen soup noodles for breakfast. This was our last day on trail. Although it was the flattest terrain so far, it seemed to go on forever. We did catch glimpses of zebra and roan antelope. We noticed that our guide who was normally far ahead of us even in his flip flops, was lagging behind. He admitted he was a having a fever, probably from an infected wound on his leg. We performed mild First Aid and gave him a fever reducer. We finally arrived at Chelinda Camp! It was somewhat of an oasis in the middle of the plateau. The kitchen was closed so we were forced to eat the remaining of our camp food but we were able to take warm showers!
The next day we arranged for a vehicle to take us out of the park. Even though we paid the majority of the cost of the ride, several other people piled on as well. One of the men was our guide Andrew. His leg was severely swollen and he decided he should go to the clinic. Thankfully Mary is a certified nurse and treated him as best she could with the First Aids kits we took on trail with us. Lucas, John and I are used to riding in the back of vehicles but I’m not sure if the rest of our group was. I figured it wouldn’t take us long; we were only 60 km from the road. It normally takes rides 1-1.5 hours on a dirt road from Salajwe to Letlhakeng. It took this vehicle almost 3 hours to get to the road! We were becoming very concerned that we wouldn’t be able to get to our destination, Lilongwe. After being dropped off on the road, we realized we would not make it to Lilongwe but were hoping to still make it to Mzuzu. We were all out of money and Mzuzu was the next closest village with an ATM. An ambulance passed by going to Rumphi. We piled in the back and prayed we would be able to find transport to Mzuzu this late in the day. The ambulance dropped us off with a guy who was willing to drive us to Mzuzu. We piled into his hatchback vehicle along with all our gear. It was a crowed ride. We arrived in Mzuzu after dark but were able to get to ATM and accommodation at Mzoozoozooo Backpackers. The owners consisted of a plethora of older men from all over the world including Germany, Britain, and Belgium. We scarfed down dinner and chatted with a Malawian Peace Corps volunteer. It was so nice to settle into beds that night (even though Colin and I had bed bugs). We had slept in a tent the last 10 nights.
The next day we got into Lilongwe early. After checking into Mabuya Backpackers (this time without bikers) and taking long-awaited showers, we headed into town. We market shopped for several hours then had dinner at a lovely sit down Italian restaurant. It felt so nice to not have to be eating on the road or hiking. The only problem was that the restaurant was filled with only white people. We are far enough into our Peace Corps service; we are almost uncomfortable unless we are the only white people. I think it has something to do with how white people are perceived in the media and we don’t want to be associated with that image.
That night I slept like a baby. The next day was the same cluster mess getting from Lilongwe, Malawi back to Lusaka, Zambia. Only we had a bit of a hiccup leaving Malawi. It seems the person stamping our passports when we entered Malawi had written down the wrong number of days we would be traveling. The man at the boarder explained that we needed to turn around and go back to Lilongwe to get an extension on our visa. Not only was that a complete waste of time and money, the Pappajohns had a flight out of Lusaka to catch the next day. It seemed that no amount of explanation was going to change his mind. Again, Lucas came to our rescue. He met the guy in the back room a bribed our way through the boarder. Two beers and 1000 kwatcha later, we were in Zambia.
We took a taxi to Chipata which got us on the last bus leaving for Lusaka. Amazingly everything has lined up in our favor this entire trip. To our surprise, once we got to Lusaka, we could not find any backpackers with available accommodation. We found a wonderful taxi driver who chauffeured us all over the capital looking for affordable beds. We finally made a deal with a night watchman and squeezed into 2 rooms for a reduced rate.
The next day we got last minute seats on a bus to Livingstone (the bus to Kazungula, the boarder, were sold out). Even though they were last minute, the seats were the best on the bus. It was a smooth ride all the way to Livingstone. We watched American movies and were served coke and vanilla cake again. Took taxis to Kazungula and were so happy to get back on Botswana soil. Too bad we still have 2-3 more days on a bus until we get back to Salajwe….
