After a day or two of recovery I was back on my feet and we were off north to collect April from the airport in Lilongwe. In addition to the usual scattering of roadblocks, we were waved down by a friendly Police officer who we soon realized was attempting to hitch hike.
After collecting April from the airport we headed through to Mayoka Village, a beautiful little spot on the water’s edge. Great for a few days of relaxation and pretty affordable if you’re willing to be a shameless freeloader and take advantage of all the freebies.
We enjoyed more than a couple great meals in Nkhata Bay. Our favorite: a tiny Indian spot named “Takeaway Palace”. The restaurant is run by one guy simultaneously acting as the waiter, head chef and owner. Food preparation time is around two hours but it’s well worth the wait. If the president is in town the restaurant is closed because there are too many orders.
We took a two day respite from Mayoka to visit Zulunkhuni Lodge in Northern Malawi. It’s a three hour boat trip to get to the lodge which is inaccessible by road. The blurb reads as follows: “Imagine paradise. Now imagine staying in the lap of luxury, with your every need catered for…” except if your needs include clean sheets, windows, electricity or meat. A beautiful spot but not the best lodging experience.
We grabbed a delicious “Korean style” lunch at Joy’s Place Backpackers in Mzuzu, on our way out of Nkhata Bay. The next stop was Mushroom Farm; an all vegetarian, eco-friendly, yoga-centric, one-love, hippie retreat up in the hills of northern Malawi. This gem of a spot lies behind some of the worst roads we have driven to date. The front shock on the car was bust by the time we got to the final stretch, making it a particularly slow one hour ascent up the 5km long mountain pass. Equally as remote as Zulunkhuni, Mushroom Farm is night and day in comparison. Clean sheets, incredible food and breathtaking views. A great spot to sit and relax for a few days.
April’s visit was over all too soon as we headed into Tanzania to drop her off for her flight back to Johannesburg. We arrived at Mbeya Airport in good time only to find a distinct lack of planes, buildings or a runway. Instead we were greeted by a long stretch of dirt occupied by a handful of kids playing soccer. After some back and forth with the airline we realized that her flight was actually leaving from a different airport with a completely different name to the one on April’s ticket, located an hour north of Mbeya. We made it, but only just.
Joburg to Scotland 