A Year In Motion

Uganda and Tanzania both border the huge Lake Victoria, but there are no ferries operating the route, so the only option for us to make it from Arusha to Kampala was via Kenya. Travelling fast through Africa becomes a costly exercise, mainly in entrance visas. Kenya is quite cheap in comparison however, with the standard visa at $25 for three months, or a transit visa of up to a week for only $10. I’m fast running out of space on my passport though, so although our transit visa was cheap, it took up a full page of my passport. Only 9 full pages empty for the rest of our world tour – will I make it around the world?!

The bus ride from Arusha to Nairobi is along a road which is under complete reconstruction and through some of the driest land in East Africa. We had a complete African Spa experience – the traditional African Massage as the bus bumped and jostled all along the road caressing our muscles with all the tenderness of a bulldozer, and an African Hammam where we could sit sweating in a confined space inhaling clouds of dust instead of steam. We were filthy and tired by the time we got to Nairobi around 10pm. Nairobi has a reputation for being top of the charts of Africa’s most dangerous cities, along with other worthy contenders such as Johannesburg. But unlike other cities, it was still buzzing after dark. Nonetheless, as we had a connection to Kampala the next morning at 7am, we opted not to discover Nairobi by Night, but instead checked into the first hotel we saw which was right next door to the bus office. In Africa, almost all bus routes are run by private operators which means that most of the better companies do not depart from the central bus stations. We had booked with a trans-African operator, Kampala Coach, which offers a Royal Class service from Nairobi to Kampala with luxury armchairs (only three people to a row!), and we treated ourselves to a little transportation indulgence, well warranted after our day at the spa.

The drive through Kenya was beautiful, with rolling hills, and lush verdant valleys. If it wasn’t for the banana trees, you’d be forgiven for thinking you weren’t in Africa at all – it certainly defies the stereotype. We passed through field upon field of tea plantation and it was great to see the land yielding its massive potential. The formalities at the border were completed without a hitch, and in the Ugandan immigration office they even had a TV showing the first day of the English Premier League. Add to that the fact that Irish people are the only non-Africans to be able to enter Uganda free of charge, and I felt at home right away. Ninfa had to pay $50 and there was no TV showing Sex and the City, so she didn’t feel quite as much at home but was still excited.

We continued on our journey, and decided to disembark 100kms before Kampala in a town called Jinja. Jinja is famous for being at the source of the Victoria Nile (the Nile has many sources, and this one emanates from Lake Victoria), and being home to some of the best white-water rafting in the world. We thought we’d give it a go. Our first impressions of Uganda were good as well, as a minibus brought us from the bus stop on the main road into town free of charge, and a local girl called Anita was really kind and guided us to our hotel.

The next morning we set off to Nile River Explorers for our rendez-vous with our fellow rafters. At breakfast we met a New Zealand couple, Tim and Helen, who are volunteering in Uganda, and a Spanish couple travelling through Africa. When we arrived at the river, we decided to team up in a boat together. Each boat should have a crew of 8, one of which is the guide who steers and controls the raft. We were only 7, which meant a bit more rowing exercise for us boys.

The rafting takes us 30km along the Nile and starts at the foot of a dam. Over the first few kms, the water pushes the raft along nicely, and Henry, our skipper, took the opportunity to give us the safety drills and instructions on how to reach the other end still alive. Still not feeling confident, we hit our first rapid. It was a grade 3 and was no problem even for debutants. Rapids are graded according to their difficulty and force, with Grade 6 being similar to a rocky high-speed waterfall, and Grade 1 being something for all the family. It wasn’t long until we hit the Grade 4s, and the Grade 5s, and inevitably our first flip. Flips are fun as it involves holding on to the raft for dear life, only to be catapulted into the air, sink into the churning water, panic while you’re completely disoriented, only to somehow surface and have a safety kayaker waiting for you and pulling you to safety. Quite a buzz, and all this in a split second!

After around 10 of the 15 or so rapids, we had lunch on the boat, and jumped into the water to cool down from the sun. The currents in the water are so strong, and rafting gives a new respect about the forces of nature, and the power of the great river, as you speed along without any effort at all. At times, however, the water is still as a lake, and you begin to realize what 30kms is when constantly rowing. All along the river, the villagers use the river as a fundamental life-source, for everything from clothes-washing to fishing to their daily bathing – we saw more than a few naked men drying off on the riverside, alas the ladies must have been in a more secluded area.

Our final rapid was a combination of a Grade 6 and a Grade 5. We shored and walked around the Grade 6, but what a mighty sight it was. Our skipper Henry told us how dangerous Grade 6 can be, he himself having spent 45 seconds underwater when he last tried one. The fact that one of them is called the Dead Dutchman probably tells you all you need to know. We got back on the raft at the bottom of the Grade 6, and unanimously agreed to “paddle hard” (get the biggest thrill with the biggest risk of flipping) at this our final rapid. We got halfway down the ferocious rapid, and I have no idea what happened. By some freak of fortune, I was still in the boat with the Spanish couple, while Helen and Tim were being rescued by kayaks, and Ninfa was already 100m downriver bobbing right through the rapid followed by some floats which previously were part of our boat. Our crew was now reduced to a few, and we paddled like crazy into the middle of the rapid again, and crashed down into a spray of white water, and somehow came out the other side with the adrenaline rushing. It was crazy! We paid $125 each for the pleasure, which includes a barbecue and beers at a campsite overlooking the rapids. The bar was also showing the Arsenal game, in which they scored a last-minute equalizer against Liverpool – a great way to end to a great day. And oh, the next day on the drive out of Jinja, we saw our first crocodile in the Nile …

Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest peak in Africa, lies in the north of Tanzania near a town called Moshi, close to the Kenyan border, and conveniently on our bus route from Dar es Salaam to Arusha. So we decided to overnight there in order to take in the view of the snow-capped peak, before the snow is projected to melt in 2020 due to the effects of global warming. Alas, during the 24 hours that we spent in Moshi, the clouds were heavy and low, and we saw no more of Kilimanjaro than if we had been sitting looking for it in Ireland or Honduras. But, snow big deal (pardon the awful joke).

Almost everyone who goes on safari in Tanzania will end up passing through Arusha. Lying to the south-east of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area and the Serengeti, the town is full of cheap hotels, safari operators, and scammers, and despite that, we quite liked it. At this stage, we’re well accustomed to touts, and some of them can actually be quite useful, especially in an environment with no signs or anything else to guide you. And for the few who try to rip you off, there are as many or more who are just trying to earn a few shillings in an economy which gives them no other option of employment.

We shopped around a few safari operators before paying a visit to the local tourist office. This is an essential stop in Arusha, because not only is it next to a nice cafe serving great espressos, but it features a message board for travellers seeking other people to share their safari, thereby getting a lower price for all concerned. Safari vehicles in Tanzania sit 7 people, so up to 6 is a good number, and gives everyone a window seat for viewing the action.

We saw one ad from an Austrian couple, Ben and Sophie, for a 3 day safari, which was what we were looking for too. We met them later and arranged to depart the following morning with a 5th person, Nell, an Irish-American. The total cost per person was $335 including all entrance fees, meals and accommodation and we booked through Sunny Safaris who we can recommend. Our itinerary would bring us to three parks – Tarangire, Lake Manyara, and the Ngorongoro crater! Alas, no time for my dream destination of the Serengeti, but it just wasn’t practical. In any case, the famous Wildebeest Migration had already passed into the Maasai Mara on the other side of the border in Kenya. Another day perhaps.

We were told that Tarangire had the most wildlife at this time of year, so we set off there first. A few metres through the entrance gate, we were already spotting zebra, wildebeest and impala on all sides. Ben, one of the Austrians wanted to see elephants, and Tarangire with its large elephant population sounded promising. By the time we had completed our afternoon tour, we had seen close to two hundred elephants – babies, mothers, males, elephants with tusks almost touching the ground, giant elephants – amazing! One of the highlights was seeing a family of about 20 elephants drinking at a river, only for a herd of over 50 buffalo to move down the hillside, leaving clouds of dust in their wake, to drink beside the elephants, and only a few metres in front of us.

Tanzania definitely has more animals than South Africa – the numbers are overwhelming – but Ninfa had one mission only – to see a lion. We had seen a leopard sleeping on a tree by the roadside, but on morning two, we hit the jackpot. On the road ahead of us, a group of cars was stopped at a fork in the road. On the low, wide pillar which held the signposts, a fat lioness was sitting proudly, and she looked scary! We were marvelling at the power she radiated, no doubt the queen of the jungle, when she shot down from her perch and started off in pursuit of a kudu about a hundred metres off. The excitement was rising, and the jeeps circled around the side of the road with the lion and kudu in view. The lion was crouched down, and every step was in slow motion as she closed in on the kudu who was oblivious to the danger. Everyone was hoping the lion would catch her prey, except Ninfa who was hoping the kudu would live to graze another day. In the end, due to divine intervention or a well-honed skill of survival, the kudu bolted and the lioness went skulking off into the forest. It was really exciting, and encapsulates everything about a safari in the wild. That’s why you’re not allowed to get out of your car (although I did have to brave the wild for a quick toilet break nearby a herd of elephants later in the day).

That afternoon, we went to Lake Manyara. Lake Manyara is surrounded by dense forest, which makes it less than optimal for game viewing. Ideally you want thin vegetation and low grasses to be able to spot the animals, and this was anything but. On the other hand, its ideal for primates, and we saw hundreds of baboons, as well as vervet monkeys and blue monkeys, Down by the lake, you can get out of the jeep, and we took the opportunity to stretch our legs and get a closer look at the numerous storks, pelicans and far off in the distance some pink flamingos. On the way out of the park, we hit a traffic jam. Traffic jams on safari are some people’s idea of the worst possible thing, but to be honest they have their purpose. If you see a traffic jam, it means it’s something well worth seeing. This time the jeeps took their turns stopping to view a sleeping lioness and two lion cubs playing and rolling in the dirt – an excellent finale!

Our final day was a trip to Ngorongoro Crater, and we definitely saved the best for last. We left camp at 6am and drove for an hour to the park entrance. From there its another hour to the crater peak, through dusty, foggy, treacherous roads lined by Maasai villages. The crater itself offers an amazing landscape – a flat and dusty bowl surrounded by a steep circle crowned by huge looming clouds. And in terms of game viewing, it’s outstanding. There are no elephants here, but plenty of zebra, wildebeest, impala, hartebeest, and best of all – lions!

We were driving along a quiet track when I saw a traffic jam in the distance. I asked our driver to turn around and make his way to the jam, as it was bound to be good. As we got closer, we could see the vultures circling in the air, and we had a good feeling this was going to be spectacular. When we got there, people in another jeep told us there were three lions. As we got closer, we saw two jackals scavenging on the remains of a dead zebra, while the vultures law skulking in the background waiting their turn. Around the scene lay a lion and two lionesses who had already had their turn, and were waiting a while before coming back for more. It was an incredible sight.

We thought that we wouldn’t be able to beat that, but a little later we saw another smaller traffic jam. This one was even better. Two lions and three lionesses were circling a small group of buffalo, and moving themselves into position for an attack. We sat wonderstruck at the back and forth of the moves, at the daring of the buffalo to charge the lions, at the lions regrouping and attempting to isolate a sole buffalo. We watched for around half an hour at this marvellous sight before the lions resigned themselves to a lost battle. Ngorongoro had proven incredible! We stopped for lunch at a lake and admired some hippos before heading homewards.

The next day, I took a trip to a nearby village to see a little of how the locals live. A school-teacher offered to be my guide for a small fee, and he showed me around the village and the farms and houses of the locals. A couple of local boys joined us, and I admit I was a little nervous that one of them was casually carrying a machete the whole time. But they weren’t in the least bit threatening. They were delighted to have a visitor and enjoyed posing for photos. The children, as always in Africa, were adorable, although a little shy. It was sad to see how dirty they were – snot dried on their faces, and legs and hands caked in dirt. Even a toddler was crawling around in a dirty yard. But what option do they have – no electricity, living in mud huts, sleeping on floors. Most of the women were busy mixing mud and repairing their houses. One of the local women showed us her ornamental Maasai costume and told us a little about the traditions of the village. It was an interesting and sobering insight into the day to day life and poverty of the majority of Tanzanians.

So that marks the end of our trip to Tanzania. Next stop is Uganda to which we will travel by bus through Kenya. Look out for our next post from Uganda!

Photos from Safari are online – check out http://photos.ayearinmotion.com/Africa/Tanzania

Another early start in our first day in Tanzania as we traveled from Mbeya to Dar es Salaam in Tanzania. There were no seats on the luxury buses so once again we had to opt for a local bus. We were told that the journey would take 12 hours, but when we arrived 15 hours later we were not surprised. After 10 km, one of the back windows (across from our seat) of the bus broke. It was very early in the morning in the Tanzanian mountains so we froze for 3 hours and later Tony suffered from a chest infection.

Dar es Salaam is a city for African standards but we found it a bit quiet, especially since it was almost impossible to buy alcohol anywhere. We stayed for 2 days to catch up on administrative stuff, but since there are not many attractions we spent most of our time chilling out in the best hotel in the city, the Kilimanjaro Kempinski, which has an amazing view of the city from the 8th floor bar. The best thing in Dar was finding a delicious Lebanese restaurant “Al Basha”, where we ate all our meals. In our opinion the food in Africa is quite bad so it was fabulous being able to eat high quality Middle Eastern cuisine.

With nothing more to do in Dar we left on the “slow ferry” to Zanzibar, a place I had always dreamed about. The slow ferry leaves at 12:00 pm, costs $20 and took us 3 hours to reach Stone Town. On the way back there is no slow ferry during daytime so we had to take the more expensive “fast ferry” which costs double price and was only faster by 20 minutes. We arrived in Stone Town and it immediately it started raining cats and dogs, so we checked in at the first hotel we saw. The prices in Zanzibar are obviously very different than in mainland Africa. We both dislike the fact that in the island everyone quotes prices in US Dollars. If you don’t have Dollars sometimes they will take Tanzanian Shillings but at a ridiculous exchange rate and the other times they will tell you to go yourself to the bank and exchange them for Dollars. On more than one occasion we both (myself a lawyer and Tony lately acts like one also) had to demand our right to pay in the official currency of the country, Tanzanian Shillings, of course. Another thing is that most places do not take credit card and if they do they will charge you up to 8% extra. Yes, we are in Africa, so we have accepted this so far, but in Zanzibar being so expensive and touristy we expect a bit more of service. The more I travel through Africa the more I come to appreciate my country, Honduras, and realize that we are more advanced. We are “3rd World” also, an unpolitical correct term that some people still use; but charging in another currency, charging commission to credit card purchases, and exchanging money at a rate other than the official one are all regulated by law and constitute illegal acts in my country.

Anyway, moving on to the great things….we were lucky that the weather improved greatly the next day as it stopped raining. We met people that had been there for a week and had seen rain and cold everyday. We chilled in Stone Town, walked through town, watched beautiful sunsets, had delicious coffee and did some activities. Zanzibar was governed by Oman so the Arab influence is still quite present. You can evidence it in the beautiful details of the architecture such as the exquisite carvings in the big wooden doors, the balconies, and certainly in the very conservative population. As well there is quite a big Indian influence and population. The elements of Arab, Indian and Black African mixed together make Zanzibar a very exotic place such as its name evokes

The first activity we did in the Spice Island was a “Spice Tour”. We were taken to a farm on the outskirts of Stone Town where we were shown the traditional way of planting spices. In Zanzibar traditionally all crops are planted together and mixed in the farm in the same plot. We were shown cacao, nutmeg, vanilla, Arabica coffee, ginger, pepper, cloves, curry leaves, lemongrass, etc. as well as some fruits. It was an ok tour, but Tony thought that similar activities we had done in Honduras were better.

Afterwards we walked through the market looking at the varieties of fish and fruit mainly. I am also glad to point out that so far from what we have seen in Africa, we have a bigger variety of fruits in Honduras and definitely better tasting bananas. For many years there has been a big banana case in the World Trade Organization in which Latin America against European Union demands same treatment for exporting our bananas as the African countries receive. Maybe this is the reason why we can still buy good bananas in Honduras and not in Africa, as probably all good African bananas are exported to Europe. We then walked through the Old Slave Market, which is now a church, to hear about the old slave trade in Zanzibar. At night we walked through the famous food market which looks very organized and tasty, but obviously overpriced. Fortunately we decided to skip the seafood and went only for a Zanzibari pizza which is La Vache Qui Rit (triangular creamy cheese) cooked in dough; as later we were told horror stories about the hygiene of the market and the not so fresh seafood.

Definitely the highlight in Stone Town for us was taking a dhow to Prison Island, where we could play with the second biggest species of turtles in the world. And boy they are not big, they are giant! Four of these turtles were given as a gift by the government of Seychelles to the British Governor in the day and happily they have been able to reproduce and now are a family of more than 50! They are so gentle and love being hand fed by all the visitors. We could have spent all day with them but we had a shuttle to catch to Kendwa, a beach in the North of the island.

An hour later and we were in paradise. We were so tired of public transport that we opted for the daily touristy on time and very comfortable minibus that takes people from Stone Town to several beaches along the island for about $7. It’s a service we recommend highly as they even aid you in looking for a hotel that suits your needs and do not leave you until you are satisfied with your choice. If we had taken a dallah dallah we would have been uncomfortable, would have taken double the time, would have been exposed to risks, and would have had to walk 2 km from the main road with our bags (we were told thieves operate there waiting for tourists) and then many more km on the sandy beach looking for accommodation.

After looking at many options we opted for a hotel with a big wide beach in the middle of Kendwa. Kendwa is a beach at the very north of the island of Zanzibar, and located next to Nungwi a bigger town with many more options and more of party vibe. We were pleased we had chosen Kendwa as the beach was absolutely perfect: wide and long white sand. In Kendwa there is not much tide so it is possible to swim anytime or lay in the beach, which is not the situation in most of the beaches in Zanzibar. Very easily we could have spent all our days lazily at the beach, but we went scuba diving. We took a boat for almost 2 hours to the Mnemba Atoll and dove there. We were hoping to see many marine turtles but only got to see one, in Honduras we saw many more. The visibility in the water and the colors of the coral are not as good as in the Caribbean or Red Sea but we saw fish we had never seen and in large quantities. To my delight we saw many starfish. We were given time to snorkel also but the sea was too rough there to make it enjoyable. For one dive we paid the shocking price of $80 (with discount). Diving is always great but in Zanzibar the highlight is just chilling in the beach, watching the sun rise and set. We could have just stayed there for much longer but we had to move on. If it were not for the “papasi” (touts in Zanzibar) who wont leave you alone all day, Kendwa would have been paradise. Among them are the famous Masai tribe who inhabit the inner parts of Tanzania. It is very interesting to see them walk the beaches in their traditional costumes selling their jewelry as some of them have realized that they can make much more money in Zanzibar than in their territory. Just seeing them in the beach is an attraction in itself.

Before our safari adventure we had to return to Dar, where the highlight was meeting our good friends Nadia and Alex, with whom we traveled the next day to Moshi and Arusha to start our safari adventure. It was great to catch up with her on the 10 hour bus ride.

I would like to remark two things. The first is to apologize to our friends and family when we describe too much specific details, making it a bit boring (as we were told), but we do it because travel blogs are a very important tool for travel planning. Other traveler’s blogs have helped us with our own organization and we hope to do the same for others. The second thing I would like to mention is that the more I travel the more I realize that paradise is at home in my country, in Honduras. I am proud of all the natural beauty we have, the friendliness of the people, the fair prices, the lack of touts, and especially that it is still quite virgin and untouched in terms of tourism invasion, making it a fantastic destination. I urge travelers to travel there and offer my help in any matter required.

Until next time, from safari-land…

One of the things I enjoyed a lot in South Africa was the … newspaper headlines. I regret not noting them at the time, but it’s kind of hard when you’re driving.

So when we were sitting on one of our regular 4-5 hour bus journeys in Malawi, I thought it might be interesting to have a look at the local Malawian press. The man beside me lent me his paper and I read it from cover to cover to much amusement. Some of the articles I quote may reinforce an African stereotype or cliche, and that is not the intention, but the articles are true, so judge for yourself. I have cited three current affairs stories, and three sports stories at the end which are particularly amusing.

Front Page – Main Story

“Ruling Democratic Party (DPP) Mps have endorsed President Bingu wa Mutharika’s brother, Peter, as presidential candidate for the party in the 2014 general elections.”

The article goes on to quote a party spokesman describing as “stupid” anyone who would say this step in undemocratic, citing similar cases in other countries such as the US (the Bushes), and I know of many in Irish politics. The thing is that in Europe and the US, there is not a recent pattern of autocratic leaders who refuse to relinquish the reins of power. Time will tell who’s right in Malawi.

Front Page – Sub-story

“We don’t need Canada or anybody to buy our tobacco” – President Bingu wa Mutharika

President Mutharika is bullish in response to moves by Canada to ban the use of burley tobacco in cigarettes, and is leading a petition to the WHO to make this ban worldwide, in order to reduce the number of young people taking up smoking. Burley tobacco gives a sweet flavour to cigarettes, and is used to balance the bitterness of the main cigarette ingredient, Virginia tobacco. Of the 100 plus tonnes of tobacco at the Lilongwe tobacco auction, 100% was burley tobacco. It is Malawi’s leading cash crop accounting for an estimated 50% of their export trade. Let’s hope that the ban is implemented sensibly to allow time for the Malawian agri-economy to adjust. There’s no point in saving young people (who ultimately are making their own choice), only to remove the livelihood of some of the poorest people on the planet.

Inside Pages

“New Malawi flag has backing of chiefs”

This is not a new story, so the exact motivations for the move are not outlined in full, but it seems Malawi will soon be changing its flag, as the new design has passed through parliament, and has been ratified by the President, after a consultation period with regional tribal chiefs. The original flag from independence is a horizontal tricolour coloured from top black, red and green, and shows a red rising sun against the black bar. The old flag is no longer deemed suitable, as the country has risen into independence and is now a mature state, and should therefore be represented by a full white sun in the centre of the flag. Oh, and the red bar should be on top, and the black in the middle. It all seems very unnecessary, and the gentleman beside me on the bus, scorned the country’s politicians when I asked his opinion. It seems that chiefs are not the best focus group for such issues, as supporting such measures are often a shrewd move in assuring a reciprocate benefit in the future. The President declared that anyone opposing the new design “is just being difficult”. Important issues indeed.

Sports Section – “Reports say Bullets game ended a draw”

“Zomba-based referee Dennis Ngulube has indicated that the abandoned TNM Super match between Bullets FC and Red Lions ended in a 1-1 draw after he disallowed the visitor’s goal because the ball did not cross the line. … During the ill-fated match, Ngulube changed his decision on Douglas Chirambo’s disallowed goal three times and eventually lost control over the match.

His first decision was to award the goal to Bullets FC. After consultation with his assistant the referee decided to disallow the goal but Bullets disputed. He then reversed his decision and awarded the goal and it was now Red Lions’ turn to protest.

Ngulube’s report further states that for 37 minutes he tried to reason with the two sides and after noting that it was getting late, he abandonded the game.

“It’s now very tricky” Sulom Secretary General Elijah Kachikawo said.”

“More chaos hits U-23”

“At the current African U-23 football tournament, “Malawi played their first game with 10 players after the 9 remaining players on Monday missed their flight to Kenya. The players managed to start off for Kenya on Tuesday, but missed the connecting flight to Egypt. Malawi lost 1-0 to Morocco in their first game. … “It’s very chaotic” the coach said”.

Another article which I forgot to take with me (but remember well) had some comments from opposing managers of two police teams who met recently in the Cup and will meet again in the League this weekend. The manager of the losing side stated that they had lost the game on purpose, and the opposing team will visit them this weekend “overconfident, and we will slaughter them”. I’m tempted to believe he meant this literally, but I’m sure that they will have the decency to arrest themselves after the heat of the moment passes.

That’s all from Malawi – next post from Tanzania!

Cape McClear was definitely a highlight in Malawi. As Ninfa mentioned in our previous post, we were both crazy about the children there, and we couldn’t walk anywhere without them running up and holding our hands. After that they wouldn’t say anything but would just smile contentedly as they accompanied us on our walk. And all the other children would wave and smile as we walked by. On the last day, we gave them balloons (Ninfa had packed balloons for gifts for children – good thinking) which they loved, and myself and Juan (a Spanish guy we have travelled with through Malawi) played a football match on the beach with varying numbers of children participating at any one time.

Another great thing about Cape McClear is that it is an authentic, typical, lakeside Malawian village. So one morning, I took a walk to the market about 1km away. I walked past the mud huts with their rooves of long grass thatch, past the water pump where the children would be helping their mothers pump the water into buckets before they would carry them back home on their heads, and all this with an infant bound to their backs by one of the traditional batik-print clothes. There are a few good quality, good price hotels in Cape McClear haggling usually gives some rewards. We stayed in Mgoza which had an en-suite double room with king-size bed and huge mosquito net for 5000Kw per night. On the other hand, the tours which are organised by the Tour Guides Association are way overpriced – a minimum of $20 per person in a country where half the population earn less than $1 a day. If they charged reasonable rates, such as $10 or $20 a day, they would all be working every day instead of lounging around the village. It was one of the off-duty guides Joseph who walked with me around the market.

Joseph also took me to meet his mother at her house which is built with cinderbrick and a corrugated iron roof. He is saving to pay for the plaster on the outside. The house is fairly spartan, but his mother does have a bed, while I’ve seen inside other houses, where reed mats are the only bedding available for the inhabitants. But the people always have a warm smile for any visitor. The devil finds work for idle hands though, and at night we had to stick to the lakefront strip as in the other areas we were likely to bump into young men who had too much chibuku or cachaca to drink, and were already quite threatening during the day. I met one such man who was trying to sell me some souvenir or other, yet was completely drunk already and it was only 1pm.

We left Cape McClear on the 5:30am matola which beeped its way through the village, packing us in like sardines, and then returning to do another circuit to squeeze in a few more. I think he didn’t leave until he had woken everyone in the village. There is no happy medium in African land transport. For the 30km transfer from Cape McClear to Monkey Bay, you either you own your own car (and travel with a mechanic for inevitable breakdowns), you pay $50 for someone to take you, or you take a chapa which costs $2 per person. We connected with a coach from National Bus Co. in Monkey Bay to Lilongwe, Malawi’s capital. I had to stand as I was the only man (the bus was at least 50% men) who seemed to think it appropriate to offer his seat to a woman carrying an infant. Despite the men being young, strong and healthy, there is obviously no tradition of chivalry in Malawian society. On the other hand, it made a pleasant change to stand, as at least I wasn’t cramped in the same position on a small seat for 4 hours.

Our first impressions of Lilongwe were not good. The bus station is full of more than the usual mix of touts, pushy taxi drivers, and beggars. Our hotel had arranged a pick-up (which never came) so we waited for over half an hour with all our stuff, which invited numerous, repetitive interruptions and annoyances. But this is generally the worst you will get in Africa … in daylight, and people are quite protective when anyone gets a little too insistent. When we did walk away into the town centre, we passed areas which were obviously no-go areas at night-time. In Africa, there are people everywhere by day, but at night “it’s a jungle out there!”. Power cuts and lack of street-lighting make you an easy target – you have to taxi everywhere, in some cases even if its only 200m down the street. But the taxi-drivers are fine and can be trusted. When we left Mamma Mia’s italian restaurant (which had espresso coffee – heaven!) we travelled with Amon, a soldier of God who doesn’t drink and doesn’t smoke, and although this kind of person would probably bore me after a while at home, in Africa, they’re my kind of guy!

We liked Amon and he offered us a good price to go to the tobacco auctions the next day, so we agreed. We had intended to use Lilongwe for two things – a place to get good bus connections north, and the place to see the Malawi Tobacco Auctions. Tobacco is Malawi’s most important cash crop, and accounts for more than half of the country’s export earnings. Lilongwe is the place where the growers come to sell their goods to dealers represnting the global tobacco industry heavyweights. The tobacco grown in Malawi is of the Burley variety, which is an important element in a blended cigarette – the burley is sweet, and balances the bitterness of the Virginia leaf grown elsewhere. The tobacco is brought to auction in 80kg to 100kg bags, and is rated by the auction floor staff. A good quality tobacco will fetch over $2.50 per kilo, and poorer quality around $2. This year, prices were down around $0.50 per kilo due to moves by Canada to ban the use of burley tobacco in cigarettes worldwide, as its sweetness attracts too many younger smokers.

The activity on the auction floor is frenetic. The sacks of tobacco are lined in rows, along which the auctioneer leads a line of buyers, all armed with pen and clipboard. Around them, barrow boys sprint for their lives, moving the sacks from the high stacks in the warehouse onto the auction floor, and then out onto the trucks. Crashes are common, proving perhaps that tobacco can cause harm in more ways than one. The smell of tobacco is heavy in the air, and its a great experience to see how things operate high up the supply chain in a controversial global industry.

We left the auctions and went back to the bus station, and boarded a bus for Mzuzu, the northern hub of Malawi. We arrived late in Mzuzu, and paid a local 50Kw ($.033) to guide us the 500m through the dark to our guesthouse. Mzuzu has nothing much to offer the visitor except connections to Nkatha Bay on the lake, or to Karonga and Songwe at the Tanzanian border. We were opting for the latter, as overland travel, touts and drunken souvenir-sellers had tarnished Ninfa’s Malawi dream of the country living up to its reputation as the Warm Heart of Africa.

So we had an early night and boarded the bus at 6am for Karonga with AXA coach company along with Juan, who was travelling as far as Dar es Salaam with us. AXA pride themselves on punctuality and reliability, but when we were still sitting in the bus depot at 7am, I was doubting this claim. I complained to the conductor about the delay, but to no avail. In fact the only thing that happened was that some passengers complained about me complaining, which I found very odd. In fact there are two rules about bus travel in Africa. One is that it is exceptional for a bus to depart at the stated departure time. The second is that arrival times are purely notional, overly optimistic and never reliable.

In any case, we made it to Karonga a couple of hours behind schedule, and had to organise transport to the border, about 30 minutes drive away. At the bus station in Karonga, there are loads of taxis offering transport to the Songwe border crossing for 600 Kw per person. But on further investigation, it became clear that this price was only available on the basis of the car carrying 5 passengers plus luggage and driver. Our other option was a chapa which would be cheaper but no less crowded, so we eventually struck a deal to hire a whole car for the three of us for a total price of 2,000Kw, only 200Kw (1euro) more expensive. The 30 minutes in the beat-up old Toyota Camry were easily the most blissful moments of African transport we have enjoyed since our rental car in South Africa.

We got dropped off at the border, and completed our customs and immigration formalities. When we got to the other side, we purchased our Tanzanian visas. Tanzanian single-entry three-month visas are priced at $50 for all but two nationalities – the USA (as expected) and Ireland (???) both of whom pay $100. Well, I didn’t really have any option, but I’m still wondering what Ireland did to Tanzania to merit this.

The border crossing also turned out to be costly for another traveller who attempted to change money with some of the black market money changers on the bridge that separates the Malawi and Tanzanian offices. It seems that instead of changing his money, they basically crowded around him and ran off with his money instead. There’s a lot of shady characters at this border crossing, so fellow travellers should exercise more caution than usual. The problem is that there is no bureau de change at the border, so you will inevitably have to change money on the black market. We were advised by the police (yes!) to do so in some of the businesses further down the road, which we did, albeit at a terrible rate.

Our last stop was Mbeya, which was two-hours from Songwe. This time we took a chapa (or dalla dalla as they’re known in Tanzania) which only had one passenger per seat for half the trip – more luxury! We arrived just after dark in Mbeya, bought our bus tickets for the following morning to Dar es Salaam, and booked into a hotel to get some well-needed rest before our estimated 12 hour journey the next day.

So that’s it for Malawi. Next post will bring you a digest of some amusing Malawian news stories, and after that some accounts of our first impressions of Tanzania.

We are in Cape McClear on the Southern Shores of Lake Malawi. Malawi was in my top 5 list to visit. I had heard and read so much about the beautiful lake and that its inhabitants were the friendliest people on earth. To add to that, while in Mozambique, some people told us that Malawi was cheaper, more beautiful, safer and more developed. So we decided to rush out of Mozambique to spend more days in Malawi before we head North to catch up with the Great Migration of the Wildebeest & Co.

Now we regret speeding out of Mozambique because as of now it seemed friendlier, safer, more advanced, food was better, prices are the same and yes Lake Malawi is pretty but can’t compare to the Mozambican coast. As it has turned out the places were I’ve had very high expectations, such as Mongolia and Malawi, have not met my expectations, whereas places where I expected nothing of have been wonderful surprises. From now on I shall not expect much and be pleasantly surprised instead. This is not to say that Malawi is not beautiful and that we are not having a great time because we are.

We arrived at the Mozambican border on the craziest chapa ride yet. Border formalities were very simple and after getting our exit stamp we took a taxi through the 7 km of No Man’s Land. For Mozambique both Tony and I had to obtain visas (70 and 60 Euros); fortunately for Malawi I was the only one requiring a visa as they charge a steep 90 Euro fee. Quickly clearing immigration we looked for transport to carry us to our destination of the night, the old capital and commercial city of Blantyre.

New country, same form of transportation: a beat-up white minivan. Tony asked the driver how many people he would fit in per row and we got really excited when he answered that the maximum the police allowed were three. We were liking Malawi so far. Well, as it turns out they put in the van even more people than in Mozambique, as they know the tricks of their trade. They know where the police checkpoints are so they turn before them and get people out of the van, these people walk to a point past the checkpoint and then get in the van again. Our first ride in Malawi was worse than the worst one in Mozambique. Not only were we overcrowded, but the van was almost breaking down, so we were inhaling all the fumes, driving at 20 km/h and praying that it wouldn’t completely breakdown as night had fallen on us.

Luckily we arrived in Blantyre. We checked into the most popular hotel for travelers, but checked out 30 minutes later as it seemed pretty sketchy. We were warned not to walk anywhere in Blantyre and that if we needed to go to the ATM (200 meters away) we should take a taxi. While waiting for our taxi Tony met a fellow Irishman at the bar who recommended we go to a new hotel a bit away from the town. We followed his advice and it was an expensive option, but we were tired and in need of comfort so we took it and even stayed for 2 nights.

The next day Tony in need of a haircut walked into town escorted by Precious, the hotel manager, who refused to let him walk alone in town. I chilled for the day watching the U.S.A. TV channel E Entertainment, to catch up on celebrity gossip.

Malawians have interesting names. So far we have met Precious, Friday, Innocence, Promise, and Freedom. There is evident Irish influence in this country as Patrick is a very popular name. Some locals even speak the Irish slang, so it is quite entertaining listening to them speak. As we have seen there is quite a lot of Irish Aid and NGO’s in Malawi. In Cape McClear the health clinic is Irish, founded by the family of an Irish young guy who drowned there.

We left Blantyre headed for Cape McClear. Although the distances in Malawi are not long, we had to make three transfers and wait for each bus to fill up. We arrived in Monkey Bay, a small town, from where we had to get the last transfer to Cape McClear. It was dark already and to our fortune we decided against continuing onto Cape McClear and opted for spending the night in Monkey Bay. During the last bus ride we met Chifundo, a local, who was the first person to display the famous characteristic of the Malawians: their friendliness. He guided us to a nice place to stay and recommended that we should not talk to the other locals as they try to take advantage of tourists. The 30 minute walk at dark through the wilderness with all our belongings on us were tense moment as other locals decided to join us. The place we stayed was in the lake shore in the middle of a traditional village and as we went by the locals would yell: “mzungu” which we would later learn that it literally means “whites”. For the rest of the trip in Africa we will keep on hearing it. I find it quite funny, but Tony gets annoyed as he sees it as racism, something he strongly opposes.

We woke up next morning to walk the lake-shore and watch the villagers come back from the early morning fishing activities. The lake on Monkey Bay seemed more like a sea as it has a very wide white sandy beach and quite a movement of waves and winds. Chifundo came back to say goodbye and gave Tony his photograph with his address so that they would write to each other.

We then continued our journey into Cape McClear and confirmed we had been wise not to venture to do this journey at night. No more minivans, the only transport available was a matola, a truck with an open flat bed at the back, who beeps his horn through the town announcing the departure and doesn’t leave until there is not a single bit of space left. Unfortunately we could not take a picture of us in it because you have to see it to believe it. We were piled with boxes of salt, vegetables, vegetable buckets, luggage, etc. along with about 20 locals. We had to sit on long bamboo sticks that some passenger was carrying. After an hour of waiting to fill up and an hour of travel we arrived in Cape McClear. We traveled through a bumpy dirt road in the mountains. At one point some of the luggage fell off the truck.

It is not easy to get to Cape McClear therefore it retains some peace and charm due to its isolation. The one annoying factor is some of the male population who are evidently drunk all day and harass tourists through town. We found a very nice and comfortable lodge on the lake front where we have spent lazy days in the hammocks, garden and terrace. We took a kayak out to an island and did some snorkeling. I can say that it is not comparable to what you see in the ocean but it was fun seeing all the colorful cichlids as it reminded me of my childhood; my brother and I were obsessed with aquariums growing up so it was nice to see all the fish we had, in their natural habitat.

Unfortunately the food here is not as good as in Mozambique. There is not much local cuisine on offer, the most common dish is hamburgers. We always try to consume as much local meals and beverages as possible. While in Mozambique we tried the very sweet and strong “rum”. Besides the normal types of beer, Malawi has a peculiar brew: Chibuko. It is a sort of beer labeled “International” in its 1 liter milk carton style. It does not indicate the amount of alcohol, as it all depends on how long it’s been fermenting in the carton, the more inflated, the higher the alcohol content. It looks like pancake batter with some chunky bits and its taste I’d rather not describe. I had just a few sips, Tony was braver and had almost ½ liter. Then he gave the rest of it to the watchman at our hotel, who was already happily holding his hands out before Tony spoke a word. Happy Days!

The best part of it all is our walks through town. The little kids here are adorable. They run up to you and grab your hands and go on the walk with you. They do this authentically with no hidden intentions. We are not surprised in Madonna’s interest in adopting Malawian kids. I’ve seen many tourists scold them and hide their hands in their pockets so the kids won’t grab them, that is sad. Tony also plays football with them. As of now we have quite a big number of groupies waiting for us everyday and I am very famous in town as they all yell my name as I go by. Tony has collected more addresses from the older boys to keep in touch. Once in Cape McClear, Malawi has started to look up. Tomorrow we depart to Lilongwe, the capital.

This is Africa (T.I.A.), the real Africa of mud huts, jungles, crazy roads, barefoot people, , and police with machine guns; the Africa we envisioned. The Africa where we’ve had no hot water, no phone signal and definitely no internet. South Africa was an amazing experience, but with its modern highways, malls, fast food chains, Las Vegas style entertainment, and the diversity of its people; it assimilates more to the United States than to its neighbors. Right now we are on our way to the Malawi border in the best transportation available, a cramped minibus that is carrying way more passengers than its capacity and all sorts of luggage (tv’s, tractor tyres, live chickens,etc.) in the the aisle, our shoulders don’t fit in the seats and we cannot stretch our legs. This has been our story in Mozambique for the last 8 days. Regardless of that we have really enjoyed our time here as it is truly a beautiful country.

We took a South African bus from Nelspruit in SA to Maputo. That was the last proper transportation we had. The border crossing went pretty smoothly as we both had easily obtained the very expensive Mozambican visas in Pretoria. One of the procedures at the border we needed to do was reclaim our tax for the purchases we had done in South Africa. The bus company told us that if we were not done by the time everybody else was done with immigration the bus would leave us behind, so we were prepared to look for alternate transport to Maputo. As it turned out we were done one hour before the rest of the passengers on the bus. We did our paperwork in the short queue reserved for passengers on car instead of the long queue for bus and pedestrians. It was a smart move, leaving us with plenty of time to enjoy cold beers from the Mozambican Duty Free shop. We had left the cold temperatures of South Africa and had entered warm Mozambique.

5 hours later we were in the small capital city of Maputo. Instantly we felt safer and had no concerns about walking the streets at night. Previously we had tried to book a hotel in Maputo without success, as hardly any hotels can be booked online and none responded by email. It proved hard to find one as the few hotels in the city were booked out. Not only is the accommodation in Maputo scarce and of inferior quality, but really expensive. It was even more expensive than what we had been paying in SA during World Cup.

SA is so easy to travel in that it had been like a real vacation to us, now we were back on the real one year adventure. During our brief stay in Maputo we had a fun time with two crazy Irish lads who had been given directions by locals to turn into a one way street where the police with machine guns was waiting for them and naturally expected a bribe from them. This was not the only story we heard of police asking bribes from foreigners. T.I.A. We also met a very nice Swiss couple who shared Malawi travel tips with us over dinner. After eating so much fast food in SA we were craving good food and Mozambique had plenty to offer: lobster, crayfish, crabs, clams, etc., mainly grilled or cooked in curries, in a combination of Portuguese and Mozambican style, and with a twist of the fiery Piri Piri chili sauce.

In Maputo we strolled the avenues, visited the beach, the Saturday handicrafts market, the fish market at the beachfront, and the marvelous train station designed by Gustav Eiffel. Then we headed to Tofo in an overpriced shuttle that takes travelers directly. The 8 hour journey was very uncomfortable as they stuffed all the luggage at our feet. We had to climb out the windows at the pit stops. We stayed in a traditional rustic hut and spent two days relaxing at the beach and delighting ourselves with fresh seafood. Tofo is becoming the “it” beach stop amongst travelers, and although the beaches are long and wide we prefer quieter beaches. As expected because of this affluence of tourists prices are high. In general Mozambique is an expensive country for travelers, as we are charged double or triple than the price locals pay. South Africa was expensive but prices are advertised and do not depend on color of skin.

Looking for a more peaceful location we arrived in Vilanculos, a sleepy town overlooking the Bazarutos Archipielago where once again we chose a traditional hut to sleep in. To get to Vilanculos we first had to get a chapa, a boat and then another chapa as once again it proved impossible to book a ticket with the luxury bus company. The bus company does not have an online booking system, the only office is in Maputo, and the phone lines were down, so the only way was to wait for the bus and try our luck with a seat, which apparently is impossible as all buses come packed from Maputo being the only decent bus per day. The prices are about 30 Euros for a 400 km trip so it is expensive. 3 hours later and the bus was still not there so we opted for the chapa. A chapa is a beat up van that crams at least 5 passengers to a 3 person seat, luggage under, over and hanging from the back and front of the van. It collects and drops passengers along the way, resulting in extremely uncomfortable long trips. T.I.A. The police did stop us several times to check the car’s documents but not once did they have any concerns about the safety of the vehicle with the excess of passengers and the faulty conditions of it.

Vilanculos was nice. The beach is not as wide as in Tofo but it has calm and clear turquoise waters. We spent two more days relaxing, buying from the market, cooking our own fresh seafood and interacting with the villagers. For peace and quiet go to Vilanculos, for a party scene go to Tofo. From Vilanculos we traveled once again in local minibus then chapa to reach Chimoio en-route to Malawi. We spent the night in unremarkable Chimoio and now here we are on the last leg, on the local minibus to Tete and hoping to get some sort of transport from there to the border. Oh and to add to it most routes depart between 2 and 4 a.m.

Mozambique is a very large and especially long country so in this occasion we limited ourselves to the South part before heading into much anticipated Malawi. As I have related most of the time in this country we’ve spent in transportation and although uncomfortable we have obtained a first hand look at the country and at the culture, both through our window and inside the chapa. We also have enjoyed very much looking at the merchandise on offer at every stop we make, from water bottles to fried mice on a kebab stick. In Southern Africa it is winter at the moment, but the only place where it is cold is South Africa. Since we reached Mozambique the temperatures have been over 25 degrees. It is funny to see the people wearing wool hats, scarves and even fur coats. The bus journeys are obviously very hot and sweaty, but I still have to fight with the locals who get annoyed at me for keeping my window open. The last chapa ride in Mozambique turned out to be the most curious of all. The driver would rush passengers to get in or out, he would sternly reprimand the passengers, but it turned out to be the slowest journey of all as he would stop wherever he saw something that he would like to eat or whenever he saw a hot girl that he would chat up.

There is much poverty as it is just starting to recover from colonization and long civil wars. However, unlike India, the people do not harass you. They are very innocent and friendly, so much that they even ask us to take their picture and break out laughing in joy when they see it. This is the Africa we’ve been waiting for and although it may not sound like it, we are loving it! THIS IS AFRICA!