Lilongwe

Malawi's capital makes me nervous at night. It's deathly quiet, with nary a soul stirring on the street at night. And this kinda freaks me out.

On the plus side there are some decent bars and some good food. I've had a truly fabulous cheeseburger (actually I've had it twice, including once for breakfast). I not terrible steak and some fabulous pork.

I'm not really seeing the sights of the city (though, to be fair, they don't really exist), which is not so bad. However, I'm also not feeling absorbed in the place in the same way I have been in other cities. That makes me a little sad, I've loved Malawi, and I wish that I could feel as close to it as I do to Tanzania.

So we got off the ferry at Chipoka, a poky little town on the shore of Lake Malawi. It's a strange poky town, though, possessed of a serious dock, with a full-on industrial-size ship-loading crane (though no ships, which is kinda weird). Actually, it's not weird it's baffling. As far as I can tell (though I may be way off the mark), there are no container ships that run on the lake (since it would make no sense – road is easier), but they still have all the equipment for on and off-loading them.

The LP describes it as a Caribbean-like paradise. This is a lie. Well, I have no idea whether it's Caribbean or not (since I've never been), but the sand was kinda of grainy...

After a week in a place I feel I should have more to say, but I didn't really do anything. We sat around, drank beer, read books and played a lot of Bao (cool game). There's a nice (and unreasonably large) cathedral, and a cool high-end lodge, but mostly it's a place to immerse yourself in relaxation.

My second African ferry took us from Nkhata Bay to Likoma. Not nearly as much fun as the MV Mwongozo, but still a beautiful ride. I suppose the problem was that as a whitey (or a wannabe whitey) you're stuck in tourist class. Well, you don't have to be stuck in tourist class, but that's where you end up if you want to not get crushed by the hoardes and the smells. Now,as you may know, I'm a first class sort of person so it's where I'll end up, but I couldn't help but feel a little trapped away from the hub and bub of “real” life.

I'm rarely impressed by backpacker joints. They're all the same and they're all mildly annoying. However, Mayoka Village was great. It was overpriced (well the food was, camping was dirt cheap), but it was beautifully put together. From compost toilets (!) and rock face showers, the folks that constructed this place have a real understanding of fitting in with their landscape. Moreover, it was perfectly sited on the coast, easy access to the water and best of all it a shitload of hammocks (none of which I used, but I like having the option).

We spent a night here. It was good. The supermarket was great.

Fuck me. This is wildlife. We only spent a night at this game reserve, but it's the best animal experience I've ever had. Sometimes it's not about the things you see, so much as how you see them (actually, I suppose this is obvious – Safaris are not the same as zoos).

Watching elephants from 20 feet away, as they traipse through the camp site you were supposed to be in (we opted for the huts after seeing just how close the tuskers got) is an amazing experience. Also a slightly terrifying. But mostly amazing.

After to hotstepping it to Mbeya to meet my new traveling partner I found that she had settled herself in with a couple of fascinating local friends. In particular there was a marvelous chap by the name of Seti, who was probably the most interesting African I've met. He's a computer guy, and he's trying to raise cash to go to school in fall. More important he has Western social mores. Not that that's an intrinsic plus, but it makes relating to soemone very, very easy. I'm kinda sad that we didn't get to talk more, but we got to have a couple of good chats and I have his email address for future communication (plus I promised I'd try and find him a cheap laptop).

Lake Tanganika is untouched. On the Tanzanian side the only place of any size is Kigoma, the rest is verdant green, white sandy beaches and tiny fishing villages. And the ferry passes them all leaving you with a palpable desire to jump off and explore a truly untouched landscape. Of course you can't, at least not easily, so instead you sail past, look and try to bond with the people onboard.

No white people. Well that's not exactly true, there were a few missionaries heading off to Do Good, but they were only on for a small part of the trip. So instead I found myself befriending a fisheries researcher, a soldier and a schoolteacher. The soldier was young and nice enough, if a little annoying (he used all my camp soap) and the researcher was fascinating (I always enjoy meeting fellow scientists). However, it's Richard, the schoolteacher, that was the person I got to know the best. He was following the same route as me from Kasanga to Mbeya, and so was an invaluable help on the way, guiding me to the right buses and guesthouses and all that. Best of all, he asked for nothing more than my friendship, my conversation and my company. I've rarely had the chance to truly travel with locals and immerse myself in their company to the exclusion of anything else. Doing so was illuminating and enriching.

I suppose the best moment of trip was the night we were forced to spend in Kasanga. The ferry arrived too late to catch the bus to Sumbawanga (the nearest large town) so we ended up in a tiny guesthouse in the electricity-free village. We didn't do much, walked around a little. Talked. I drank a warm beer, watched the stars (trying to use the laptop to track them) and stared out the crystal clear lake. It was a microcosm of the trip: Serenity.

No internet. Luscious lake shores. Extravagant elephants. That sort of thing.