Tempest on the River Shire

‘Go on a boat safari!’ They said

 

‘It will be fun!’ They said

 

If we ever ask you to join us on a boating safari, given our track record, if your happy with your life the way it is – the correct answer should be: NO!

 

The boat safari was scheduled for Liwonde National Park, a very picturesque little park just south of Lake Malawi.  It started out great guns. The drive to the boat jetty was in an old 1960s land cruiser.  From the jetty we got in a rickety old canoe where three lads, each with their pants rolled up, pushed us through the swamps to the main boat.  Magic! Our chatty guide – Spy (as he is very good at spotting wildlife?!) didn’t draw breath, and was full of stories. In my head, the idea of a boat safari is a very mellow experience.  You have the wind in your hair, binos in hand, and all your doing, is floating around watching life go by.  To date, all our boating experiences have seen us sail into the mother of all storms, where there is plenty of wind in your hair, fingers in your ears, and your bent over at a 90-degree angle, staring at the boat floor because:  1.) I find lighting terrifying and 2.) I’m trying to protect my bag/binos/glasses from getting soaked or flying overboard. 

 

With one big flash of light, I jumped, and out of instinct, squeezed my fingers into my ears – Spy thought this was very funny, and tried to reassure me, by saying we would be better off dying quick, getting hit by lighting, than slowly in a hospital.  Fair point mate, but I didn’t part with my cash to fry today.

 

Visibility had gone to zero, so Spy planted himself at the bowl of the boat, to give directions to the boat driver, in the form of pointing.  A very simple way of communication – if Spy pointed left – go left.  If he points right – you guessed it – go right.  At one point, boat driver was not reacting in a timely manner, to which Spy turned around, and if looks could kill, boat driver would have popped his clogs there and then.  With angry eyes, he gave two very distinct left jabs, and turned to face the storm again.

 

How he found the ‘jetty’ – I have no idea, but we got there.  You would think that’s where the adventure ends.  No chance.  Now there was the palaver in getting the three boat pushers to come and get us.  We were drenched, so we suggested we can walk waist deep through the swampy bit.

 

 ‘Are there crocs here?  ‘

 

‘Yes!’

 

‘Yes???!!!’   

 

Scrap that thought – we can wait in the boat till the storm passes.  Spy thought that was a stupid idea – he was going home.  Boat man, still wearing his life jacket, walked through the croc infested waters, to get the boat pusher, who came back through croc infested waters, to pick us up. We walked the last bit to the car, which had been parked on black cotton soil.  Boat man – who was now the driver – STILL in his life jacket – was happy when we told him: you reverse out of this black cotton without us – we will walk to where you find hard ground.  Thankfully he didn’t get stuck, we jumped in, and got back to camp soaked to the bone, but with dry binos, and a driver who was still in his luminous orange life jacket. 

 

Warm shower and we were happy as Larry again.  We paid more in tips, than the cost of the damn boat safari.

 

From Liwonde we made our way up the shores of Lake Malawi.  We had two nights just south of Monkey Bay, where we read our books, played Rumi cub, and enjoyed the beach type vibes.  Lake Malawi is so big, that it feels more like an ocean than a lake.  Unfortunately, bilharzia is rife here, so swimming is not an option, but as the rains have started, the grey skies helped make it less enticing to take a dip.

 

Malawi does feel a bit tense. Chatting with those who work, and live here, 2023 hasn’t been an easy year for the country and its people.  Keeping in mind that they are still trying to bounce back from the COVID pandemic – in March they were hit with hurricane Freddy, which caused huge amounts of destruction.  One lady told us that of the 22 people who worked for her, 18 people had parts of their homes damaged – either the roof was missing, or a wall had collapsed.  2 people had no home left at all, and the last lucky 2 walked away unscathed.  After Freddy, there was a big shortage of fertilizers, as the government hadn’t stocked enough.  This led to huge crop failures.  Lastly, the devaluation of the currency by 44.5% meant that prices have all increased significantly, and for the majority of people, salaries have remained the same. Unfortunately, 2024 doesn’t look like it will start too kushty, as a further devaluation is expected to be announced.  It all feels a tense and desperate.  In every town we have driven into, we have been approached by beggars.  What do you do?  If you start giving out money – who do you give it to? How much do you give? Are you promoting begging this way?  We rolled into Mangochi, a small town close to the lake shore.  As I was wearing shorts and we were in a Muslim area, I stayed in the car, and Col went to do the shopping.  He had bought bread rolls, among other things, and with all the kids around the car, we opted to hand them out.  Two young lads, were so chuffed with their meal, they sat in the opening of a small shop – cheersed each other with their bread rolls, and gave us the thumbs up, sporting the biggest smiles!   We felt like maybe we made a small difference in their lives for that one day.  Its hard. You feel small and helpless, and at the same time, very thankful for how our lives have panned out.

 

On that note – wishing you all a very Happy New Year! I am hoping 2024 is full of kindness, more peace in the world, and more appreciation for this beautiful planet that we call home.