5 August, 1998 — Welcome to Malawi
We reach the Tanzania-Malawi border. Greg is instigating the border
change hawkers, and Jocelyn and I pour gas into the tanks. (I spill
all over J.) We spend the rest of our Tanzanian Shillings on water
and cookies and head into Malawi.
The border station is quite mellow. Just a large brown corrugated
metal canopy over some small offices. There is an overland truck
pulling up preparing for immigration and customs. We pass it up
in hopes to cut in front of their line; we don't want to wait for
40 18-something Europeans to get the stamps. We are successful.
It being later in the day, we head to the nice Rest Camp in Karonga.
A nice sunset walk on the beach and a nice 15 MK ($0.75) Chambo
(fish) and rice dinner at some local dive. Drink a couple of ice-cold
Carlsbergs and enjoy the coming of a full moon over the refreshing
Lake Malawi.
Walking along the road to Senga Bay, Malawi — October
14, 1998
6 August, 1998 — Karonga (Let's fix the
alternator)
The car absolutely will NOT start. We push, push, push, but have
no luck. Finally a Suid African trio manage to jump start us after
connecting their car to our car via jumper cables and about ten
minutes of high revs. We conclude that our alternator has failed
so we drive to a local welder/electrician guy. This man attempts
to rebuild our alternator while I enjoy another 15 MK Chambo this
time with rough tomato soup. (No food poisoning.) Finally things
appear fixed on the man closes Breakfast's bonnet with a slam. We
decide to stay another night at the Rest Camp where we enjoy a fine
homemade chicken dinner.
7 August, 1998 — “The Worst Road
in Africa”
And the next morning we begin our trek down “The Worst Road
in Africa.” And it is indeed SHIT. But, somehow, I am beginning
to enjoy pothole roads. We take it slow, stopping along the way
at some small village where I witness my first boa-board game. Several
hours/38,954 potholes later, we arrive to Chitimba and manage to
find a campground just purchased by some Brits whom we met in Nairobi
just some months ago. Nice place, amazing beach, and my first plunge
into the healing waters of Lake Malawi. We enjoy some expensive
beer—overlander prices. An hour later we are clinging to the
steep, 20 switchback, boulder road to Livingstone. It is during
this ascent that we first notice a slight rhythmic clicking noise
emanating somewhere within the Breakfast's loins. We ignore the
noise for now.
High in the mountains among pine trees we arrive. The place resembles
the Sierra Nevada mountain in California and I feel at home. We
enjoy a nice dinner. After dinner, I hear my first exposure to Senzo,
the South African reggae artist whose music I grew to love as our
journey progresses. And crash outside in the crisp, mosquitto-free
air.
8 August, 1998 — What's the clicking noise?
Clicking getting worse. Even worse after the decent back down to
normal altitude, and finally in Mzuzu it is downright awful. It
hurts to listen, but the sound overwhelms the air. Todd wants to
stay in Mzuzu until Monday, but it being Friday, I say “No
mon, let's push on and solve the problem in Nkhata Bay.” Click,
click. Several witch doctor later, we are on a beautiful “Bonny
Dune” type road winding and descending back down to the inviting
lake. Click, click. We buy some firewood, take a picture, and we
are there at Africa Bay. Several beers and one spacecake later,
I am laughing outta control at Murray Power's “soft-jazz-DJ-afternoon-show-radio-voice.”
It is damn good. The whole while I am gazing out at the lake at
the midnight fishermen. Their bright lanterns persuading bugs tom
come close, attracting fish in the process creates a shimmering
spectacle across the horizon contrasting the pitch night sky. It
is mesmerizing. Eventually I do crash with Jocelyn's mushy butt
pushing in my face.
9 August, 1998 — JG RIP
The three-year anniversary. Wake up. Deep breaths. Give thanks.
I miss you. I walk downtown. Discover the day market lady and her
tasty rice, beans, and tomato sauce. I spot a guy with a Steal Your
Face tattoo. We chat, and I jump on top of some guy's Landy and
we are off, puffing a spliff of some fine Malawi wowwi. We end up
at a beach near Njaya,
where there is a camp fire; we are swimming, puffing, sharing stories.
A nice day and I eventually walk back to Africa Bay.
“Wholly Shit!” The internal organs of breakfast are strewn
all over the place and it stinks like, like, well quite frankly
like nothing I have ever smelled before: a mixture of rotten grease,
dirt, straw, shit, and a bit of hell. Greg, smiling, “Jocelyn
found a mechanic, it's now or never.” I think, I get drunk,
and I eat more space cake. Again, as the night progresses, I watch
the fishing boat on the lakes—bright shimming lights slowly
moving across the lake in the distance. Eventually and reluctantly
I slither into my bed next to a snoring Jocelyn and a squirming
Filipino butt. Yikes.
August 10 - 18, 1998 — Space Cake
These next few days are a bit blurry, so there will not be that
much here.
10 Aug, 1998 - ?
11 Aug, 1998
Bought a cool teak pipe and sanded it.
12 Aug, 1998 - ?
13 Aug, 1998 - ?
14 Aug, 1998
Bought a beautiful fish Chef's Chair; Gearbox is
“finished” and we have our first click-free drive.
15 Aug, 1998
Chill out, relax, and say good-bye to our friends
including Murray Powers, Ben, et al.
16 Aug, 1998
Leave Africa Bay early and drive all the way to
Salima, find the fried small birds, Greg eats one, go to Lilongwe,
can't find a place to sleep. End up at some random local hotel,
nice dinner, camp in the backyard.
17 Aug, 1998
Awaken in Lilongwe at some ant infested dump. Go
get money. Get Moçambique visa. Drive south. Stay at the
Mwanza Hotel on Malawi/Moçambique border.
18 Aug, 1998
Wake up at 5:00 in the dark and exit Malawi.
Next Country: Moçambique
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