Inglis in Africa: August 2011

Makuzi Beach- Lake Malawi

Zambezi, Moz, Dhows and Dunes, July 2011

We crossed the great Zambezi River for the fifth time today, this time via a magnificent modern bridge of 3.2km near Caia in Mozambique. Also this was the first crossing in a southerly direction signaling our route home. Previously we had encountered this incredible waterway at one of its tributaries, the Okavango River, on the Caprivi Strip in Namibia and the Chobe River at Kasane in Botswana, where we were mesmerized by huge herds of elephant frolicking at the waters edge in Chobe national park. At Victoria Falls we marveled at the majesty of these 1.7km wide and 108m high falls which we witnessed at full spate and crossed, by foot, the bridge into Zambia gawking at bungee jumpers screaming their dollars into the boiling pot below. Then again at ‘Lake’ Kariba, where the mighty river is dammed, and we took the ferry across to the huge wall bordering with Zambia. Finally at Mana Pools national park in Zimbabwe where we were awestruck by massive elephant crashing branches metres from us and caught fresh Tiger fish on a fly from calm water littered with wallowing hippo and sunning crocs. From there we had crossed moving north into Zambia. The Zambezi too somehow symbolizes our journey with its rushing rapids and crashing waterfalls, calm tranquil pools and deep green water. Also Africa’s animals and communities living in harmony along the banks. We too have had ups and downs, pleasure and pain, and our extraordinary experience has united us, as we flow to our estuary and the sea and look forward to our return to South Africa and then to our home in La Crèche, France.

Our time in Malawi was brief. This was partly because we had lost two weeks in Tanzania with bearing blues and partly because Malawi is a mess. Despite more than forty years of foreign aide (or perhaps because of it) poor Malawi appears to be going backwards, sliding into an abyss. Only this week there were reports of ‘civil unrest’ thanks to no diesel, no food, no work, no hope……My memories of Malawi from the mid eighties may have been marijuana muddled but the wretchedness of the place now left me despondent and happy to move on. Markets seemed to have little more than tomatoes and onions, queues of cars waited at empty petrol stations and curio touts harassed us to distraction. My student ‘mecca’ of Cape Maclear is now an over populated ramshackle of decrepit huts intermingled with desperate lonely lodges and the ever present filth. The Malawians however are still fantastically friendly and still form the ‘warm heart of Africa’. We had an excellent stop at Dedza about an hour from Lilongwe where we went on a fascinating tour of the clay and pottery production there. The girls are desperate to get a wheel and give it a go. My opinion of foreign aide was further tarnished by a ‘rural development conference’ on at Dedza and sponsored by the EU where obese, tie-toting, lap-top lugging, cell-chatting, munching Malawians gazed blankly at power-point slides defining ‘vision’ and other such banal issues. I couldn’t help thinking that the only vision they needed was to get rid of foreign aide, get off their proverbial backsides and get going. Our last night in Malawi was at the foot of the lake where the Shire river starts and was apt given that we had started at Matema beach in Tanzania at the top of the lake and had travelled the length of the western shore.

We entered Mozambique via Mandimba and got off to a bad start. The ‘I’m a Moslem’ immigration officer attempting to engender trust ripped us off badly. US$100 for a US$75 visa was painful and I was amazed that we allowed it to happen despite all our usual checks. We weren’t alone and met many other travelers who had met the same fate. Incredibly our luck changed shortly thereafter when our dealings with hyena-like money changers went in our favour to the tune of US$35 thanks to an accountancy error on their part! We drove on a pot-holed road north to Lichinga on the Moz side of Lake Malawi and then due east to the Indian Ocean. We overnighted at a basic camp and feasted on hunks of BBQ chicken served with Nsima washed down with good Moz beer before tackling the few hundred kilometers of Chinese construction road and then (almost) no road. This ‘road’ was bad but fun-bad and zig-zagged through raw and remote mud hut villages and countless cassava fields passing for a while through a marshy area where we had a few unexpectedly deep water crossings which challenged the BFG (alias for our car by M&Z “Big Friendly Giant”) but it handled them admirably. One crossing that did get our pulses up somewhat was a wooden bridge about 5m across and 3m high constructed from aged logs that had warped and moved leaving big tyre swallowing crevices between them. We laboured for some time replacing logs and filling with rocks and then I traversed while Ilda and the girls watched anxiously from the far bank. Despite an alarming lunge half way across BFG excelled once again and we were on our way.

Pemba is a lovely spot on a massive bay about 300km south of the Tanzanian border. We stopped off at the Pemba Dive and Bush camp and were thoroughly spoilt. Luxury camping with hot showers, beach bar, use of canoes and archery, kitchen with gas stove and fridges, hot water delivered in the morning and a paraffin lamp in the evening had us as content as we’d ever been! M&Z had a ball and we relaxed, sipped on cold beers and I even got to watch a day of the Tour De France on the massive flat screen TV! Thanks Lyn for looking after us so well. We reluctantly left and headed towards Isla de Mozambique where we found semi-wild camping on a gem of a beach at Chocas with talcum white beaches strewn with colourful shiny shells and were ‘harassed’ daily by locals offering us fresh fish, crayfish, crabs and virtually anything else that took our fancy. We accepted a dhow ride out to the Isla and enjoyed perfect sailing on this historical craft. The return trip in a brisk afternoon breeze was more challenging and had the girls somewhat anxious as the boat listed and waves crashed over the bow. The Isla was fascinating with a history stretching back to the 15^th century and a visit by Vasco De Gama in 1498 and whose statue adorns the main square. The Stone Town, Sao Sebastiao fort, museum and hospital all bear witness to a remarkable rich history but are in a somewhat derelict state. However restoration has begun in earnest and, as a UNESCO world heritage site, this is sure to become a second Zanzibar. An early start had us on the road before dawn (4.30 here!) heading determinedly southwards. The drive was long and somewhat monotonous, but on good roads, and we had an anxious stop at a police roadblock where my fake NZ drivers license (original stolen in Rwanda!) failed to impress the officer. Miraculously he seemed to bore with my bantering and waved us on wishing us a ‘good journey’! We have acquired a chicken bought at a roadside stall which was meant to be dinner but has, not unexpectedly, become the girls pet! It travels on the roof in the wheel hub and is fussed over continuously by the girls who have banned me from making it into chicken curry. I remain optimistic.

So across the Zambezi. I think that only a year ago this crossing was by ferry and again shows how African travel is changing. Fortuitously we are now at the peaceful M’phingwe Camp nestled in native forest and rich with birds and small game. We enjoyed an informative tour (in French by a Parisian lass here on work experience) of the sustainable indigenous forestry sawmill where we learnt that 4 trees are planted for every one felled and that only 75% of the trees may be felled within the concession. We were given the option of planting a tree to reduce our carbon footprint but elected to drink a cold beer instead.

Tomorrow to Inhassoro and more white beaches and aquamarine water, cold beer and prawns. Then we dawdle down the coast to the border and back to our friends at Mseleni.