Day 290 / 55

Date: 27 January 2023
Sleeping location: Warm Heart Lodge, Cape Maclear, Malawi
Distance (km today/total/total Part 2): 0 / 17852 / 3015
Estimated climb (m today/total/total Part 2): 0 / 152700 / 34700
Friendliest motorcyclist: Sarah/Neville tie
Day in three words: Cape Moderately Clear

I was woken up at 5am by the noise of the family running the hotel, but mainly their rooster, right outside my window. I decided I wouldn't stay here a second night and went for a recce around town to search for a better place and some breakfast. I didn't find it a particularly nice place, especially after the joys of the Mushroom Farm and Butterfly Space. It's not super peaceful, there is a lot of litter both on the street and the beach, and there is the constant stress of being potentially hassled. I soon adopted the way of dealing with hasslers that most efficiently reduces rudeness and stress, which is to pretend you don't hear them.

I couldn't afford a place called Mgozo, but it had a good breakfast menu and here I got chatting with the only other resident, a friendly Welsh guy called Stu who is working remotely long term. He's going north so we swapped tips about the bits of Africa we've already seen. He had to leave to go kayaking out to an island but insisted on paying for my breakfast, the lovely man. After this I saw a few things that warmed me to the village a bit more. A little wicker pub was blasting the Arctic Monkeys at 9.30am, which was a nice change from the usual music here. One kid was running up and down the street pretending to be motorbike, complete with noises, with his shorts constantly falling down to reveal his little green underpants, and another kid was just joyfully dancing naked in the middle of the street. 

I found a new lodge which was affordable* with a room right on the lake, away from the road and therefore much quieter. I relaxed here for a bit and did some bike maintenance, almost cocking up big time after unscrewing Maggie's rear derailleur carelessly and losing vital parts through the decking into the sand below, which thankfully were not carried away by curious ants. I left Maggie without wheels or chain, poor lass, then headed back to Thumbi as Neville and I had discussed going kayaking. On the way out yesterday's kid with the piece of paper “with the head teacher’s stamp” requesting money "for school", who was not in school at 10.30 on a Friday, asked where I was going. I told him I was going to the moon and I had a piece of paper with a stamp from NASA, would he like to sponsor me? I don't think he understood the sarcasm.

 

Back at Thumbi I had my shorts repaired for the fourth time - at some point they may become more patch than short - and Neville revealed that he'd recruited two more for kayaking, Sarah from Ghent (yesterday's non-waver, motorbiking round Africa after recently quitting the Belgian navy after becoming disillusioned) and Garima (Indian girl backpacking, appears to be some kind of travel influencer and has 300k subscribers on youtube). We also rented some snorkels and then kayaked as a group around the nearby Thumbi West Island. It was very beautiful, thick virgin forest and big round rocks rising steeply from the clear blue water, with lots of majestic fish eagles and less majestic hornbills (who make bizarre cries that sound like babies), and lots of colourful lizards on the hot rocks, including a 3ft monitor lizard. Around the other side we pulled the kayaks up onto some flat rocks and went for a snorkel. As the diving instructor had said via text the visibility was bad after the recent storms, and it was a lot less clear than it had been in Nkhata Bay, but we still saw lots of cichlids including some big blue ones. Neville then mischievously suggesting we relaunch the kayaks by sliding them down the rocks into the water, which was fun, although Garima, who cannot swim at all, uttered the (im)mortal phrase "if I die, I die" as Sarah readied for pushoff. On the way back there was a huge storm over the lake in the distance, which was very atmospheric. I was a lot more positive towards Cape Maclear after that trip.

Afterwards the four of us got some drinks together and were joined by an older Belgian guy called Eric, who was very odd. He's a self-professed "country collector" but only wanted to talk about how many places he'd been and how much he knew about these places. He reminded me of me in my mid 20s...but he's in his mid 60s. We were joined by another motorcycle tourist called Konstantin and went for dinner as a six. The food took ages but was nice, and I ate everyone's leftovers so essentially had two meals. Sarah has a good sense of humour and a splendid "no fucks given" attitude, so after a few beers I was comfortable enough to ask why she hadn't waved the day before. Bombshell - SHE SAID SHE HAD. Maybe all the motorcyclists are waving and I just don't see them. The plot thickens...

 

As the visibility was bad I didn't fancy diving and there didn't seem to be loads else to do here. I was headed to Zomba about 220km away, but the highly regarded Liwonde National Park was 170km along that, so with three "power half days" I realised I could carve out 24hrs there without requiring any extra days. I decided to stay one less night at Cale Maclear, finish Maggie maintenance in the morning and leave at lunchtime.

Malawian Signs Corner

Mind is a battle field always. Refresh with cold drinks available here. 

*Although the guy quoted in dollars then tried to charge in Kwacha at a stupid rate (1100, it's officially 1027) and I had to argue to get it corrected. Yet again the grifting here.