Day 9. Fri 18th August.
Return
to Blantyre
After
an excellent breakfast (but then anything would be excellent after
three days at the Aska) I walk over to the park office, which is back
to the gate, and then quarter of a mile up the track - it feels like
miles but is probably not even one. Catherine wasn't sure last night if
she would go with Tim or stay here, but she is not in the office, so
presumably she has gone. In fact no one is in the office except Tull
Makangila. He gives me a hearty welcome, but he is not the most
computer-literate guy in the world, and I don't have high hopes of
finding these maps.
As it turns out I don't even get as far as looking for the maps - the
office computer runs Windows 98, and it won't recognise my USB stick,
so even if I could find the files I can't take them. I will have to try
and get a USB driver when I'm in Blantyre.
I walk back to the lodge and find the Italians just returning from
their dawn game walk. After they have had breakfast they are going to
walk up to the main hide, so, as there is nothing else for me to do, I
decided I might as well join them. It is only a short walk to the hide,
and we spend an hour or so there and see quite a lot of wildlife,
including several beautiful male Nyala. It occurs to me that I really
must explore this reserve more fully, I've done game walks and watched
from the hide, but never been further than walking distance from the
lodge.
The Italians have hired a huge 9-seater combi and a driver called
Vincent for their holiday. Communication is not good, but as far as I
can work out they are heading for Mulanje, but are happy to detour into
Blantyre and drop me at Doogle's, and they won't accept any petrol
money. So by mid-afternoon I'm once again ensconced in my favourite
chalet and wondering if I should just have one Carlsberg Green
before looking at my e-mails.
The plan was that while my kids were painting pictures in Bangula,
Lorraine would have a group of kids in the UK also painting pictures,
and we would spend the weekend doing the big internet picture swap. I
would then head back down to Bangula the following week to show the
kids in Bangula what had been created in England, while Lorraine does
the same in the UK. Unfortunately it seems that the Malawi side of the
schools project is progressing better than the UK side. I find a cheery
email from Lorraine saying ". . . should have something for you by
Wednesday", which puts my schedule right out. I pack my photos into
three zip files and attempt to send the first one, but after 40 minutes
it still hasn't gone, so I retire to the bar, very disheartened.
As is the way in Doogle's, I run into my friend from Edinburgh,
Maureen. It transpires that she has been invited to spend the weekend
at the Liwonde Wildlife Reserve by a work colleague, Pam. They have the use
of a vehicle and a driver for the weekend, they just have to pay fuel
costs. There seems little point in my hanging around at Doogle's doing
nothing all weekend, so I ask if I can join them, and share the costs, and they are
happy to oblige. We agree to meet at their Hostel, the Grace Bandawe,
which is walking distance from Doogle's, at 8 tomorrow morning.
The change of timing also means that sadly I shall miss the Bangula
Ntayamoyo Youth Organisation performing their plays, so I send a text to
Frank Mphoola to tell him that I shall be unable to make it.
I am just wondering whether to have another beer or call it a night
when an attractive Malawian girl who has been perched at the end
of the bar pops up at my shoulder and asks me if she can join me. Now I
can't say I'm not interested, but she is half my age and obviously not
after me for my looks. There are many girls in Malawi who, while they
do not overtly charge for their favours, nevertheless do very nicely by
chatting up western tourists who are more than happy to buy them meals
and gifts in exchange for their company, and I have to say that in this
case the idea is certainly tempting. However, the risks here in Africa
are great, and, as always, my head wins over my faint heart (or
whichever part of the antomy we are dealing with here!) and with some
regret I decide to pass, and head for my chalet alone.