Lake Malawi

The first thing I noticed when entering Malawi is the bricks. From the Iringa road border post there are red brick buildings, piles of bricks in fields, ruins, and the occasional brick kiln. There is little traffic on the road as our truck thunders past groups walking to get to Chitimba by Lake Malawi.

The last light of the day is fading as we arrive at our first camp in Malawi, it is a high risk malaria area here and we’re advised to cover ourselves in mosquito repellent. Attracted by the light there are swarms of lake flies, billowing like clouds under the brighter lights and small enough to pass mosquito nets. I struggle to eat my food, the locals will catch buckets of the flies to make soup and biscuits, not for me! The owner of the campsite is a Dutchman who says he has had bouts of malaria at least 30 times over the years, but if he spots the symptoms he can treat it quickly. He is a keen photographer and shares stories and tips with Martina.

Martina meets a few locals at sunrise on the beach, who are happy to pose for a few photos. The lake is a lifeline for the people here, who come to bathe and wash dishes and clothes in the lake early in the morning.

There is only one road to Kande Beach and it is over a steep mountain pass, halfway up there is a truck stuck in the middle of the road with a burning clutch. Nearby is the wreckage of another truck that came off the road last month with the loss of four people. Our crew are experienced mechanics and try to assist the stricken vehicle, they manage to move it to the side of the road to cool down and let the queue of trucks through.

There are crocodiles living in the river near Kande Beach Camp. The owner of the camp, an ex overland driver from Nottingham, tells me they only really go into the lake during the night over Easter. A few of the group swim to Kande island 800 meters off the shore but get a lift back with the locals on a boat as they had seen a fresh crocodile track into the lake. One of the locals knows of eight people who have been killed by crocodiles here.

Sweet Banana and William take us around the local village. As we are led from the campsite gates there is a scrum as each of the craftwork sellers outside look for a person each to walk with around the village. It’s like picking a partner for sport and I am obviously last choice, they reckon Martina is far more likely to buy earrings or something. I have Magic Joy and Martina has Captain Morgan. Their names are given to them at birth as the wish from the parents for their life, though Joy tells me Magic part is just a nickname from his friends. Martina has already commissioned a painting from them in the morning in exchange for photos.

There are a lot of children here, William tells us that there are over 1500 children in the school for the eleven teachers who work there. There are several forty meter deep boreholes for fresh water installed by the Canadian government in the late 90’s.  He shows us a brick kiln and how they make their bricks in the village. As Joy and Sweet Banana escort us back towards the camp and their craft shop, Joy tells me that they are no longer permitted to make so many bricks and instead need to buy the concrete blocks to combat deforestation, he also points out the tv room for watching the football as we walk past.

A storm blows in overnight and we pack up early for the long drive over the border to Zambia. Martina is proudly sporting a new pair of earrings.