13/05/93 (110km) - Not such an early start today � had to go and see David and Jean � new couple in Balaka. They were at the �rather confused by it all� stage but at least they'd heard of me. Then off to Liwonde, a detour to Kudya [Discovery Lodge] to look for Ferry (but it was his day off � met Yvonne's brother and co, though), then up the hill. As I remembered from the last time the climb was tough but fairly quick and I soon reached Malosa for a cup of coffee and a chat with Ko and Ian.
Next stop Zomba � a lot of up and down on the way but a good PTC [supermarket] to look forward to. Very tired when I arrived by 1l of milkand a �Chelsea Bun� restored me enough to go looking for Nellecke. After a chat and tea there I double back to Peter's before the last haul to Magomero.
The trip was OK to Namachi (though I think a policeman at one of the checks was not happy I didn't stop) but as I left it I was worried that I had missed the turnoff. Kept going though, and came on it a few km out of town; the sign said Phalombe as well which suggests that tomorrows route will be OK to find. The MACOHA centre came up soon enough, but where was Kitty's house? Ferry's directions were not good but at last asked a boy who knew the way � and turned out to be a pupil of Alice and Helena! Then we ran into Willie (Kitty's husband) and they were very welcoming: chocolate fridge cake, banana milkshake, smoked Kampanga [excellent lake fish], mushrooms � heaven! I think Kitty was glad of a receptive audience for the cooking.
14/05/93 (60km) - The route promised to be hot, dusty and flat, but in fact it turned out to be... hot, dusty and flat. The road was good as far as Matiti where it met the Chiradzulu road � then it got rather bumpy. Mulanje took a long time to appear but once it did being able to see the detination did not prove to be as much of a bind as I thought it would be. The mountain approached fast � but seemed to hand around for the last 10km or so. I arrived in Phalombe in time to meet Tracy on the way to the market so I was able to get straight into the house and into the fridge. Spent a relaxing afternoon and had a pleasant dinner but felt rather bloated afterwards � overeating again! The feeling got worse, though, and neither lying in bed nor on the toilet floor did any good � Bleugghh, Hughie, Raaallph [as I put it at the time]. Felt a bit better for throwing up and fell into a fitful sleep.
15/05/93 (0km) � Wake up with a fever and feeling bad � don't think I'll be going anywhere today � maybe not for a while. Tracy reassured me though � Maura's friends had suffered similar symptoms but had been fit enough to go up the mountain the next day. I just lie around reading and feeling sorry for myself while Tracy manfully does my washing and generally nurses. At least there is the Cup Final to listen to, then an early night. Hope things are better tomorrow!
16/05/93 (40km) - Sure enough I wake with no fever in the morning - but not feeling too good after the first half hour.Manage to do a few useful things like packing and tidying before Maura returns with Bob, Mark, Rob, Laura and John. Manage some food - OK a cheese sandwich - and chat a bit before the clock marches onto 2pm and it's time for the journey to Mulanje to begin.
Feel better than expected in fact and I'm able to get to Mulanje without a real break - very glad it was only 40km though. Mike M was home (they had thought I was coming Saturday hence the message that they would not be in). Manage some dinner (though feeling bloated again) and go out for a beer once Mike B returned - a beer it turned out to be as I could hardly finish one while they had 3.
17/05/93 (90km) - How would I fare today - a tough route in my still less than 100% condition? By taking it 20km at a time I guess. Felt OK to Luchena anyway - but that did feature a big downhill into that valley. Visiting Lois had also been less out of the way than I had worried. Paid for the down with the big up to Thyolo, but once in the tea it was more pleasant [this is a major tea growing area and the road winds between the brightly green tea fields]. Had a break at the Post Office to write to Ross [friend in UK] and try to get him to score some cash off the folk in the Welly [our local pub].
The ride to Makwasa was hilly and again pleasant among the tea - but by the time I got there I was really whacked - and bloated again. Could this be Giardia? A long rest there was a restorative so off I went - onto the dirt. I'd hoped for some more tarred road. It continued up and down for several km of rough road, then an unmarked junction!? I made the big mistake of asking a kid the way: right she said so off I sped (OK - trundled) [Malawians always give you an answer to a question out of politeness, whether they understand the question and know the answer or not]. The road was fine and three more schoolboys confirmed it as the road to Nsanje - unfortunately we somehow got "road" and "path" mixed up.
As the way petered out I knew I was wrong, but do I climb back up to the original junction or go on? A group of villagers let me know that there is a path down so I decide "What the hell, I'll walk it!". I don't suppose a mzungu [white person] had been down there in a while though! One of them guided me to the top of the main escarpmentpast some confusing junctions and then it was down. Very tough where the path was a streambed, not so bad otherwise. At least it was direct! Stopped half way at a rest point with a shelter, paused to have a brief chat with a man carrying 6 chickens up, then down, down, down. [This path allowed people to carry items up the escarpment to market where they could get a better price]. It was all over (thankfully) fairly soon and I was on the East Bank Road - at least the view had been worth it over the valley, Elephant Marsh and the Shire River. [One story I did not put in the diary was of the young girl of maybe 12 I met as I heaved my bike down a! steep section. She came around a bend below me, took one look at the struggling white man, screamed and ran back from whence she came. I guess I was that scary and probably the strangest sight seen on the path in a very long time].
Once on the road I thought I was nearly there - but the way seemed to go on and on. The road surface was OK, though, and I finally met a vehicle from Trinity Hospital whose driver assured me it wasn't far - and once at the hospital I was soon led to Fran and a welcome cup of tea! Another good evening - very fine lasagne and a couple of cold beers. The best thing though, the fact that it wasn't too hot [the lower Shire Valley I'd descended into is not far above sea level and usually hot and humid, even in the cold season of May].
18/05/93 (70km) - Next day's weather was very odd - cool and drizzly just like Mzuzu! The road to Bangula was OK and after a stop at the PTC (where a customer with money was very well treated) it was off to Nsanje - or would have been except for a puncture! Tried to pump the tyre but had to stop a few km out for a repair (thorn right through the tyre) [the thorn trees by the road had brutal spikes on them, I had several punctures]. Initially the road was good - they are rehabilitating it because of the refugees - but soon got very rough.
Most of the way to Nsanje could not be done on the roadway [too rocky] but there were plenty of bike tracks on and off the footpaths at the roadside to follow, so although it was hot and rather boring, progress could be made. Arrive in Nsanje and passed right through it without seeing the school - or much of a town, but was directed back and soon found some pupils to show me to Bob and Matt's house - they were not kidding when they said it was hard to find! Also met three Medical Assistant students [I taught them basic sciences back at the School of Health Sciences] on the way, here for practicals.
Bob remembered that I was coming [I had sent word through the Peace Corps bush telegraph] and they were very welcoming so I had a restful afternoon followed by a look round the real town (off the main road) in the early evening.
19/05/93 (50km) - Time to complete the journey south. The road to Marka on the border is a good deal better than that to Nsanje - I could even risk the bike tyres on it at some points! Cycling through Mankhokwe [huge refugee camp] was an experience - like going down Sauchiehall Street [one of Glasgow's main shopping streets] at Xmas. Much use of the bell! The border is as expected - a little customs office with a Malawi flag, a barrier, and then... nothing. A dirt track into the wilderness. No sign of the immigration official - a Medsins Sans Frontiers truck on its way out was stuck: they'd tried the police station, then local bars, to no avail.
Back in Nsanje I walked around the town - it must have been a thriving place pre-1974 with rail and river traffic and Asian commerce [the Mozambique civil war cut down most cross border trade, President Banda limited Asian businesses to the cities], now there was a lot of rather decrepit old buildings being used for homes.
20/05/93 (135km) - Decided there was no reason not to head to Chikwawa (not even the state of the roads!). Felt much easier getting back to Bangula now I knew only to follow tracks off the road. A stop at the PTC and then off down the most variable road of all those I'd met: some excellent tar (30km/h + stuff), some rather wor but OK tar, and then some areas where repairs had been given up on and grading just loaded onto the road: with a result even worse than the Nsanje - Bangula section.
Seemed to take a long while to get to the Ngaba turnoff (though I kept up with a local bus for over 30km as it couldn't go any faster than me over the rough stuff) - but went well to Nchalo, a surprisingly large town with a big PTC [jobs on sugar plantations meant disposable income for the locals]. Stopped for a breather and to buy some supplies as Chikwawa was reported to be short on shopping potential.
Glad that there was only 25km to go (the road had taken its toll on bum and hands) - the early stages through sugar, sugar and more sugar. Then I came to a milepost: Nchalo 10km, closely followed by Chikwawa 30km ... errrk - further than I had thought. This was obviously planted by confusionists [local word for troublemakers], though - as I was in Chikwawa before long where I spotted a sign reading Nchalo 25km!
Laura was away as expected but Phinnaeus made me welcome and I was able to relax and make myself at home. A good book (Love in the Time of Cholera), tape collection and occasionally tuning into the FA Cup Final replay made for a pleasant evening, with ++ food.
