Day 272 / 37

Date: 9 January 2023
Sleeping location: Kameme Community Day Secondary School, Kameme, Malawi
Distance (km today/total/total Part 2): 74 / 16856 / 2019
Estimated climb (m today/total/total Part 2): 400 / 145500 / 27500
Types of road; mad, good, mud
Day in three words: Unexpectedly in Malawi

After the basic and weird breakfast we set off for an initial 10km down the main road north from the border. This was absolutely crazy, a narrow road with trucks frequently overtaking each other and forcing us off the side, potholes, dust being kicked up everywhere. I donned sunglasses and a bandana over the mouth, gangster style (probably) and we got through it as quickly as possible. Things got a lot nicer once we turned off, onto a flat smooth tarmac road through farmland, and we made easy uneventful progress. 

For lunch we stopped in a small village where everyone seemed to be getting pissed despite the fact that it was a Monday lunchtime. Everyone was friendly but one slightly sozzled man asked us to buy him a beer repeatedly, despite already having almost two full beers in front of him, and didn’t seem to grasp our reasoning thusly. Here I spilled masses of salt onto my chips mayai, then down the road when we stopped in a cafe to shelter from the rain I spilled masses of sugar onto my chapati. Sadly I didn’t manage to complete the set with pepper.

Our Malawi e-visas hadn't yet been confirmed so we planned to stay the night in Isongole and wait for them to arrive, or just head to the border (2km away) and wing it without them in the morning. But all three unexpectedly came through in short succession as we were coming into Isongole at about 3, so we decided to head for the border immediately after a brief and unsuccessful attempt to print the visas (which they apparently require in hard copy). The border process was painless but slow, enlivened by a cute puppy, but the Malawian side wasn't able to issue full visas and instead gave us temporary passes to go and get the full ones in Chitipa.

We left with a couple of hours to get 30km to Chitipa before dark, but right at the border the road went from tarmac to dirt and it was raining heavily so it was very slow and muddy. Before long we realised Chitipa was an impossibility so we stopped in a village to ask about sleeping there and were immediately joined by eccentric guy with a cane called Aripo* ("it means present"). The villagers were mostly helpful and spoke pretty good English, including Aripo, who talked a lot and seemed to be doing am dram most of the time, and a sensible guy called Jim wearing a snazzy trenchcoat. At one point a drunk lady came over and started saying random unintelligible things before Aripo started admonishing her in a flamboyant way. We were offered space in a "Guesthouse" but it was far too small, and unfinished, so we asked about sleeping in a school, which was agreed by the chief over the phone, so Aripo got a croggy on Jim's bike and we went off through the heavy rain. 

The school was surprisingly well appointed compared to rural Tanzanian ones and we soon had an interview with the smartly dressed head in his smart office. He agreed that we could stay overnight and asked someone to go find us a suitable room. We gave Jim and Aripo a bit of money as thanks for their help, at which point Aripo got on his knees and literally begged for more, which was very strange, but then quickly he was back on his feet/cane and the best of friends with us, demanding that I took a picture of him posing jauntily before him and Jim left. Charles and Anne-Claire were convinced he was entirely sober, in which case his brain must be intoxication enough for anyone. 

Whilst we were waiting for the room a random Frenchman wearing a binbag arrived on the back of a motorbike having heard there were mzungus in town. He was called Gregory and seemed to have come from Chitipa, where there is a border crossing with Zambia, and was looking for a border crossing with Zambia. After we told him that there is a border crossing with Zambia in Chitipa he went back to Chitipa in the rain, forgetting his rucksack, which we took custody of in case he came back for it.

 

Eventually we were given a store room which was more than ample for our needs and had a delightful amount of shelving space. For dinner C&AC made a salad which accidentally turned into guacamole, and I made a sort of coconut noodle thing with soya chunks, and our experimentation was rewarded with one of the tastiest camping stove meals I've ever had. 

*The guy’s name was Aripo. I don’t know the cane’s name, but given Aripo’s eccentricity it probably had one.