misteroverland

New Years was spent on the shores of lake Malawi, fresh fish, sunshine and swimming being the order of the day! 
Once again we have been taken aback by how different neighbouring countries can be. We crossed the international border between Zambia and Malawi and suddenly there was a noticeable difference, mainly having gone from fairly isolated villages to a much more populous and cultivated landscape. Malawi is so much smaller than Zambia and it is also dominated by the lake though it has a few million more people. 
I also call it an international border as clearly we crossed the little black line demarcated on the map for the different counties but there was no border to speak of, the Zambians have been chased away (apparently) and the Malawians had a road block aka a branch across the road. Thankfully we did find the Malawian immigration control though in effect we have not yet left Zambia – oh well!  

From the lake we headed for the Nyika plateau, everything we have read says that it reminds visitors of Europe. Sadly we got there so late (another one of those roads!!!) we had no idea of our environment. Though in the morning I had to rub my eyes several times as it looked like we had arrived back in England or maybe more specifically Devon!
Going back to that road – we had left the lake and headed up the escarpment to Livingstonia. 19 hairpin bends and you are at the top, we met a motorcyclist on the way down who we had spent some time with while in Zambia so stopped for a quick catchup and to check the condition of the road. While there, the rain was starting and boulders were already being dislodged. We bid farewell and completed the climb to the top, by now the rain was steady. We didn’t linger too long at the Edwardian church (odd sight in rural Africa) before heading out of town the opposite way. This road, as far as the motorcyclist informed us, was passable with a bit of mud. I guess that was the case before the rains had set in. Once again Kevin was doing all he could to get us down safely though the mud was very slippery with us sliding into the ditch on the side of the road a couple times. Feeling rather helpless I suggested putting branches in front of MrO to try and provide some traction. Soon I was joined by a village of men and children, in the pouring rain we hauled branches onto the road for a several kilometres until at last we reached the bridge and what appeared to be slightly less mud. The sheer generosity of those people to help us get through the mud safely was a reminder of how wonderful humanity can be.