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Nkhata bay, Malawi
Well it had finally come, the day where i would be off on my own. I was up at 5 in the morning on the 3rd december, and i couldn't wait to go, i had travelled to songea with a friend from the village to make sure i didnt either get lost or troubled by the people there who might tell me the bus doesnt exist, along with maybe, "but i am going that way so please come with me". Things that although are amusing, when you might have no idea what is going on, well its best to keep around someone who is more likely to understand someone speaking a foreign language you have only just begun to start understanding the basics.
But then the time came that the bus had to leave, so after buying some bread, cup cakes and a bottle of water i mounted the bus and bid farewell to Songea and was ready to set off. i then sat on that bus for the following 8 hours where i only left once at Mbinge to get a coke, and to just say i left the bus at some point. We stopped off there for two hours, and i did believe the guy when he told me this, but visions of the bus leaving with me sitting somewhere enjoying a coke or a nice cuppa were playing on my mind. But i didnt manage to leave the bus to get a drink. I can drink a bottle of coke far to quickly if i want to i think this was probably the quickest i have ever done so. i was constantly waiting to hear the sound of the engine starting up, which it never did, and see the bus leave with out with, which is also never did, probably because the engine didnt get started but a minor point i think.
So i returned to the bus feeling that i had a victory to tell to my grandchildren in years to come and sat back down on the bus reading my book. The drive to Mbamba Bay was beautiful, the valleys were covered with trees and apart from the odd group of houses or farm land it was non-stop trees. I finally arrived at Mbamba bay and set forth in an attempt to find somewhere to sleep for one night before i head to nkhata bay.
After walking around for over half an hour, being told there was no room at the inn, which i later met the owner of the place, nice guy from England, i found this was not because i was white, which was my first reaction, but because although it is a place to rent a room, they rarely have things there for people. You might question how someone could make money this way but for what she apparently needed to survive she got from rent the boats paid to dock their boats in the private bay. But when eating Ugali (maize and water) and fish which will be cheap as you live on a lake, you dont really need much money. But after getting some help from locals, who i think stopped me staying somewhere which they described as unsafe (check out the swahili of me there!) i found a nice place called wetland lodge who by the time i left the place i can only say he is a very nice man who is very patient and does not mind being paid 12 hours late.
That night i slept a bit weary of my surroundings, i have visions of my door being broken into and who knows what else might of happened, but i woke up in the morning alive and well and i set off to find out about the boat. The day before i met the immigration man and i was told to return the next morning, so passport in hand, important stuff i didnt want nicked in bag, i set off to find the man from immigration to simply get a stamp so i may leave.
However, although this may seem a simple idea, it was one slight flaw, that is there needs to be a man from immigration to be there. After i returned to the place about 10 times throughout the day, i eventually got called in by the guy from customs to tell me to stop coming as he has gone to a party in songea and wont be back for a few days! So the boat came, unloaded, and subsequently left. I found a nice local establishment that happened to sell beer and so i sat down and had a few that night feeling rather annoyed and wondering if my visa running out on tuesday could turn into a problem.
The next day i met a dutch lady who was also wanting to go to the same place as i and this meant i had found my drinking buddy for the following fews days.A man from immigration finally turned up at around 6 in the afternoon on sunday and a very nice man i had met on my first day had managed to inform us of this and so borderline running we made our way to get the stamp i so desperately wanted. Despite wanting to take the mans stamp and insert it somewhere i found the guy very pleasant and good humoured.
So we had a stamp and confirmed with the captain of an interesting boat that we could go to nkhata bay. Leaving at 1 in the morning. So we sorted out food, had a beer or to and headed to the beach to wait. The stars that night were amazing and the moon look stunning! So after playing with my camera for a while i sat on the beach waiting for time to pass. Prior to us leaving the nice man turned typical and asked for money, but what could he have done for money i hear you wonder, well he volunteered to sit with us on the beach, we kindly told him no, although my dutch friend i fear was less polite but still civil and polite which surprised me.
The boat finally left at 2, and i spent the next hours attempting to balance on the front of the boat trying to not knock empty crates into the water, wondering why the boat kept stopping every hour, and i also began to question their navigation skills to. But the boat was also semi sinking so i just wondered if i was going to get to land, any land, at all. The water was being emptied out by the bucket once the petrol for the generator pump had run out.
When we finally reached Nkhata bay i was rather tired but so happy to of made it without swimming and legally at that.
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