Despite John the manager ensuring me that the breakfast was buffet yesterday, it wasn't. It was microwaved doughnut, I knew this because the microwave was on the table next to me. It was served with the same freshness as my dinner last night that was microwaved chips and chicken curry....mmm just like home!
I would've complained but the doughnut went straight through me so when I next saw John I was actually making a B-line for the toilet in my room. If you haven't figured it out already, if you're fussy about your food, then I'm afraid Africa is a continent you're best staying away from.
I expected a few steep climbs today. When my vague map has a road with lots of squiggles then I assume more uphill than down. I left in good time and it didn't take long for the road to attack the hills head on. I do prefer a good early climb as I can take it as slow as I want and won't lose much time compared to myself if I was pumping it. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as I thought and before I knew it I could overlook most of the other hills and see my path down towards Malawi.
I arrived in Turkuyu which was around my half way mark about 3 hours in. I hadn't spoken much this morning, I guess I was just focused on getting to Malawi. The Tanzanians had turned from friendly "hellos" to constant "mazungo" shouters and much more begging. I really am getting fed up with the mazungo shouts so today I put both ear plugs in and tried to drown them out. If they say it once I can block it out but they never just say it once, they will still be shouting it at you when you're around the corner 100m away. GIVE IT A REST!!! It's like they have Tourette's!
I stopped for a quick lunch of the standard rice and beans and then had the excitement of pretty much 30miles of downhill all the way to the border. I could see Lake Malawi and I could pretty much see my long winding route through the trees to get there. There was no traffic on the roads and the tarmac was pretty decent so this would be a very enjoyable ride for me. About 15 miles down the hill I met two South Africans looking very sweaty and very worn out, coming up. Oliver and Craig had cycled a different route to most from Cape Town through Zimbabwe and were finishing in Zanzibar. They filled me with good news of downhill and flat roads to the Lake and I returned that with bad news of constant uphill for the rest of their day.
We had a good chat and I took their details as we are going to have celebratory drinks in Cape Town when I'm done. I really wanted to get into Malawi so continued to push on down the hill. I've ran out of superlatives for Tanzania. It was only fitting that the last day would provide me with even more stunning views and with the lake and its backdrop of Tanzanian mountains, views were as good as they come.
I got to the border and had no problems with getting the right stamps this time. It felt strange not having to pay anything for a visa. I just filled out a tiny white form and was in Malawi within 5 minutes of leaving Tanzania. Here I am, I thought, country number 19 of 23.
The road was ok, I say this because it wasn't potholed but it wasn't exactly smooth either. It could be made much better and I'm sure for vehicles, its as easy to drive on as Silverstone racetrack but for me and my battered behind, I had some issues. It's all well and good covering some ridiculous distances like I have in the last 5 or 6 days but its come at a price. After 30 miles on any surface, I am cooking a fire down their with friction. A fire so hot, I'm surprised Nigel's saddle hasn't melted. So for me, first impressions of Malawi were of dehydration, tiredness and pure pain. On top of this, the people really didn't help my mood. Everybody that I've met talk of how nice and friendly the people are. I'm going to throw the curveball and be Mr Scrooge and say define friendly...
If friendly is everyone calling you "mazungo" most asking for money and everybody else shouting something in chichawa (Malawi's native tongue) at you, then yes, everybody was positively delightful. For me though, I wished everyone would just be quiet. Why did absolutely everyone feel the need to say something? I was longing for my resident starers that say nothing, they just look at you, but they were nowhere to be seen! Instead, I got the whole population in a very loud, "blurt out anything you're thinking of whether you think the white man on the bike will like it or not" and annoying mood. Like I said, it was probably the hungry, dehydrated and "in pain" ogre in me that thought this but for me, I was not enjoying my first hours in Malawi.
I may've used this analogy before but the Malawi people for me were like Haribo Starmix. They all look different and may taste slightly different and are very nice and enjoyable if you take them one at a time. But if you eat the whole packet quickly, you realise they're not that different, they're full of the same additives and they leave you feeling sick....and frustrated...and with a furry taste in your mouth. Wow! Harsh I know, but it was what i was feeling at the time.
So both ear plugs were firmly planted and the music was on loud but that still didn't drain out the flames of the bushfire unfortunately. I had planned to stop as soon as possible before I did something I regretted to the next innocent child that smiled at me. The wetlands and paddy fields seemed to drag on forever but I eventually arrived in Kaporo, about 25km from the border. It was getting dark, I was fed up and hungry and all I wanted to do was stop but as always seems to be the case on this ride, when you need it most, its never there. I couldn't believe it, there was not one place to stay, a pure ghost town. I had impressions that Malawi would be quite well built, cashing in on the tourist value etc but it really isn't. Malawi is plagued with unemployment and severe poverty. In some areas it was worse than Ethiopia. There didn't seem to be many schools, tiny villages were extremely run down and kids were roaming everywhere, this was another real surprise for me.
I asked the officer at the road block where the nearest camping or guest house was, "Karonga" he said, that was another 25km!!! I really didn't know how I was going to manage another hour and a half on the bike. I had already cycled 75 miles and was already in pure agony. Cue Obrey, Obrey is a local that happened to be cycling at the same pace as me and going to the same place as me. In times of darkness I always find a light and Obrey was exactly that. We talked for the whole time from Kaporo to Karonga, the whole hour and a half (including one toilet stop for Obrey) we flowed in conversation about anything and everything. He told about the poor situation Malawi was in, I had no idea. (Guess that's why we travel!) he helped with a few currency issues, what I should be looking to pay etc which is the main thing for me when entering a new country, especially an African one.
He tried to teach me a few words in chichawa, I couldn't believe that just when I was getting by on Swahili, I had to change again! When we got to Karonga we parted ways but not before he gave me his name, home address, work address, email and phone number. (that's what they do over here) I think now that makes us best buddies.
I cycled towards the lake and towards where the hotel and campsite signs were pointing. I really did not care where I stayed. This was justified when I found a place called "Hotel Tat" it was actually "TaJ" but the flick of the "J" was so small it looked like TaT, and Tat was very apt! It was around the price that Obrey said I should expect and it had a mozzy net, a cold shower and a restaurant so that was all I needed really.
For me it was shower, food then bed and I couldn't of been more happy in the end. I was in Malawi, albeit exhausted, in pain and still sweaty but I had made it and tomorrow was another day.
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