Emma @ 1 years old. Malawi was an epic adventure of all times. Vaughn, Emma and I left early on Friday morning with the Mom Whittle taxi to get to the airport and relax while we could. We were a bit nervous of the havoc a little 15 month old could create in a confined space with a hundred other people to entertain. With this in mind we spent lots of time chasing her up and down the airport lounge and spent a while watching the wildlife video in one of the shops – crocs are really interesting according to miss M. Cavan, Kalene, Sue and Josh arrived with much buying of Amarula and Nordic Ice for the trip. We were all still lounging around when the loudspeakers boomed for: “Cleminson, Harvey, McQuade et al to please board the plane to Lilongwe as this was the final call!” We all charged off leaving Sue in the bathroom, went speeding around corners and down stairs to the boarding gate – late again. We then crammed into one of those over packed airport buses and were shuttled off to the plane. We were soon relaxing in the tiny airplane seats after a minor hiccup with the hand luggage people – they were quickly convinced when all M’s goodies exploded out the bag that we really needed all the snacks and nappies etc.

M surprised us all by falling asleep before we even took off and slept peacefully the whole flight, even missing out on her specially pre-packed kiddie’s meal – Hugely impressed! She only woke up when we landed at Lilongwe 2 hours later! Then the fights with the grouchy custom officials began. The new passport laws in SA state that children now have to have their own passport and can no longer go onto their mother’s passport; this meant that M had her passport issued at 3 weeks when she couldn’t even sit up straight with help. This little law also means that every idiotic border official wants her to fill out her own form, sign it and hold it herself. Try explaining to them that she is too small to write and will chew and tear up the form in the 3 seconds she has access to it besides the 20 mins you have already spent in the queue. This argument was finally put to an end with me giving M her form, she then stuffed it into her mouth, I prised it out and gave the sopping half chewed mess to the border guy – he was not impressed but could no longer argue as we had done what we were told.

After cleaning out the foreign exchange counter for all our millions of Kwacha (8.3 Kwacha to the Rand) we headed off to the next adventure – the negotiations for the taxi ride to Mwaya Beach (a three hour trip from Lilongwe) which is 100km south of Nkhata bay. Josh was the official negotiator with Vaughn and Cavan as sub negotiators – us girls were baggage control and guards. Finally a price was set and we were off to see our transport, a silver grey Toyota Corolla and a white Hyundai. It was quickly decided while shoving our gear into the respective boots that Vaughn, Kalene, M and I would brave the Corolla while Sue, Josh and Cavan would brave the newer looking Hyundai with lovely velvet seats.

After filling up with petrol we were off, it took us a while to discover that we had taken the wrong main road and were adding another 300km onto our trip (there are only 2 main roads in Malawi). After deciding that this was not a ploy to get more money and reassuring ourselves that they were not going to dump us in the middle of nowhere and steal our goodies we settled down to enjoy the sites of Malawi. We learned that cooked field mice on sticks was a local delicacy as could be seen by the ever well populated roads filled with little children with their handfuls of mice on sticks. Sold in the true tried and tested way of standing in front of the speeding car, causing the car to swerve to avoid head on contact with seller, occasionally this was punctuated with jumping in front of the car at the last minute. Just like most African countries the informal street markets punctuate the roads, making a congested, busy mess at bus stops but petering into non-existence at places. The main mode of transport seems to be bicycle and we were amazed to see 3 seater couches, king sized mattresses and bases and the likes being carried on the back of bicycles. We finally got to stop off at a garage 5 hours later to replenish our food stocks (not that there were any to start off with – M had her airplane food pack at least). It was here that we discovered with much giggles that the Hyundai was windowless, that we had been travelling at 60km per hour the whole way and that they only had one tape in their car. We had M in our car – enough said!

2 Hours later we pulled over at a crummy zinc shake professing to sell pizza. Everyone piled out the car which automatically drew the crowds of drunken Friday night spectators. After much discussion it was discovered that our drivers had no idea where we were going (luckily we did), the next issue in the debate was more money! We were told that the road to our accommodation was impassable and that we would need a whole lot of pushers in case we got stuck but and extra 2000 Kwacha would solve the problem of the disappearing road. Much grumpiness settled in the air with Vaughn shaking a howling Emma in their faces and telling them that it was all their fault and they had better make a plan. The boot was opened…

Sudden silence. We all thought that we had made a fatal error and that we would be left on the side of the road at 9pm at night, baby and all. A huge sigh of relief was breathed when he pulled out his plastic bottle of petrol as the petrol gauge did not work either. We then hit the road again. The road was pleasantly fine and we finally found our accommodation after Driver 1 reversed into our car while doing a u turn. An hour and a half later we had arrived at the famed Mwaya beach Lodge – our home for the next few days. (will not go into ugly mess about money, much swearing by proprietor and
grumpiness by us).

Wow, were we all impressed when we were offered Lentil soup, leftover bread and banana and chocolate cake at 11pm at night! By then we were completely starved after last eating airplane food at 1pm that afternoon. What was supposed to be a 3hour trip had turned into an eight and a half hour epic adventure. With our tummies full it was off to our mole shaped mattresses for a good sleep.

All too soon M was stirring and it was the start of a beautiful day in paradise. M graciously woke us up in time to see the skies turn from black to orange to pink to sunny. We in turn woke up Cavan and Kalene and then went off to do the same to Sue and Josh. Soon everyone was up and at them. Each day started with the roving sun risers congregating at a different hut each morning. It was then Coffee time – 2 huge pitchers of freshly brewed coffee with warm milk and the works, this was followed by Pancakes smothered in banana and sauce or papaya and banana sauce (a firm favourite), amazing tomato and cheese omelettes, toast and the works. We were very keen eaters and soon had eaten them out of house and home, at least it took the boys 2 days to finish the bar beers. Lunch and dinner were just as scrumptious with papaya pie pudding fish soup, fresh bread, pasta bakes and the likes. We were really spoilt and all of this cooked on a fire! Truly amazing for a bunch of brits out in Africa for the first time and us their first customers.

We spent our days lolling on the very coarse pebbly beach (day 2 on saw us donning our booties and heading out to “sea”), going for swims. M played post the leaf through the deck floorboards. She also got to explore a fish close up when it washed on the beach. Cavan thoughtfully gave it to her so that she could chew on it and descale it while it flopped around (it was alive). It did keep her entertained for hours. She also became a fast beer drinker and would sidle up to the boys, grab their beers and glug them down at any chance. She also learnt not to let go off a swing while swinging – this resulted in a granadilla sized lump on her head which she still proudly carried 2 weeks later. The bamboo bridge was also a great source of amusement with her eventually running up and down it and jumping up and down with great confidence after her first attempt which resulted in her sitting down and bum sliding the whole way to avoid falling through the 1cm cracks. She has now decided that water is not cool and the closest she would get was being held by someone who had to run away from the water as the waves crashed or else suffer the consequences of an ear splitting scream.

We decided to trek up to another beach resort to see what was happening. This started with a 7km trek up the beach to Kande Beach resort, this is an overlander’s top spot – we should have been warned! The main aim of the beach trek was a spot of diving and to try and organise our impending trip down the coast towards the airport. The diving did not happen as “it was too rough” – yeah right ankle high waves – too rough indeed! We then had a very expensive semi-ok meal with very costly milkshakes (thimbleful of pink nesquik milk). After much negotiation we managed to get a lift to the local Taxi owner who promised a minibus for the day of departure and we settled on a price. Yay, much relief as this was something that had been worrying most of us.

The day of departure arrived and we all waited anxiously for the arrival of the minibus at 9am. This came and went with a bantam bakkie finally arrive at 10.30am loaded to the hilt with mechanic, driver, owner, pusher and hanger on: we still had to fit in the 7 of us and our luggage. The price had suddenly doubled as we now had a bakkie – apparently much better rated than a minibus – lacking a canopy and as murphy would have it, it was raining. Much haggling later resulted in the owner and co piling into their car and nearly driving off leaving us stranded. Once again, the negotiation team was sent off to get us out of this mess, hours and many beers later they arrived back with a canopy (a metre too long for the bakkie) and a new price. We all sadly said goodbye to our holiday home and proprietors and we were off for the 3hr journey back towards Lilongwe.
We must have looked a funny sight with our too long canopy on a too short bakkie, 3 pairs of white legs hanging out the back, 3 people lounging uncomfortably on suitcases and an M taking the bakkie by storm. This is how we travelled for 3 hours, M nearly fell out once while going over a pothole as the bakkie back could not close. Many hours and a washed out bridge later we arrived at Senga bay. We had chosen a nice place from the guide book only to arrive at a really expensive cockroach palace, in fact even the cockroaches had moved out. We decided to try the next door spot which was dingy but clean, the only problem being that poor Cavan had to share our room as it was a 3 bed. We also had to pay an extra $10 to use a really small balcony the size of our bathroom. Once again the transport negotiations started for the final leg of the trip to the airport. It was discovered that the hotel curio vendor’s Uncle ran a taxi business and he would organise a minibus for us, failing this he would talk to his cousin and organise something. We very stupidly bought a whole lot of curios that night – needless to say the curio man and his mates had a great party and the taxis did not arrive. We finally got the hotel to organise us a bakkie (no canopy). M and I got to sit in the front as she was asleep while the others got the share the back with baggage, bamboo poles? And the general push etc entourage.

Boy was I nervous that we would not make the plane. We arrive 10min before the plane took off, finally got boarding passes, next official go back to square one and pay airport tax. Back to official, “ah she must hold her paper and why has she not signed?” Hell dude, she is 15 months old, she cannot write and the plane is leaving – give us a break! This was settled with M licking the paper and it being forced from her hand, apparently saliva is a form of signature? We charged through the airport and were the last sign in. Arrive on the tarmac to be told to pick our luggage or else it will not be on the plane – TAB (that’s Africa baby). Of course our bag had to be missing and it was not long before we were being called to security to claim our bag. The poor guy who opened the bag was greeted with hundreds of M very well dirtied clothes and a pile of nappies that would make anyone proud. It turned out that they were concerned that our mask was a deadly weapon, even though 4 others just like it managed to get through in Sue’s, Kalene’s and Cavan’s bags – don’t figure. For this little misdemeanour we then had to carry our bag to the plane ourselves and pack it into the cargo hold ourselves (thanks Sue).

It was time for our adventure to come to an end and what an adventure it was, next time we will be taking our own car – the petrol the whole way is cheaper than the internal transport costs!