Very Much Delicious: Part 8

Part 8 of my diaries from 1996 about my trip to Malawi and Zambia. And, by the way, the title of these posts was explained in Part 5.

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Christmas Eve began with a repeat of yesterday's walk and as then there were lots of colourful birds and insects and butterflies but, apart from various antelope, no large game. After we had returned and had breakfast we took the boat back across the river to depart.  Already getting ready on the far bank were the two South Africans. Geoff said that he wanted to be away before them because the Unimog would churn up the roads even more badly than they had already been. The back door of the Unimog was open and I looked inside. It looked like an explosion at a rubbish dump. Boxes and bags had been thrown in randomly with their contents spilling out onto the floor. They had managed to pack less into that enormous space than Peter could get onto our roof. The younger one walked round and closed the door.
    "Look," said someone. I turned around. David was pointing off into the trees. There in a clearing about twenty yards away were a family of elephants, three adults and two young. The South Africans showed no interest in our sighting. I wondered if perhaps they had a list of 'things to see in Africa' and had already ticked of 'elephant'. We approached the group slowly. elephants have very poor eyesight and, perhaps surprisingly, even poorer hearing. If you approach carefully and from downwind it's easy to get within yards of them and it's also easy to tell when you are downwind. We had been there for about fifteen minutes before one of them finally noticed our intrusion. He became visibly agitated and the whole group moved off into the bush. Pleased with such a close sighting we went back to where we were parked.
    While we had been engrossed the South Africans had departed. Now we climbed into the Land Rover and followed, trying to avoid the deeper ruts left by their tyres. About half a mile later two things happened. First it started to rain but not with anything resembling a British downpour. It was, Barry said with some satisfaction, a real African rain. The drops were the size of walnuts and coming down like bullets from the sky, hard enough to raise bruises on sensitive skin. Second, we came to a halt, stopped by the Unimog which had broken down in the road blocking it completely. Geoff got out to assess the situation. When he returned he told us that he thought he could get round on the treacherous mudbank that led down into the waterlogged field but it would be safer if we could all get out first. Reluctantly we did so, huddling for shelter at the side of the broken down truck. Ten minutes later Geoff had accomplished the tricky manoeuvre and we were back inside, soaked and steaming, while the South Africans were behind us attempting to fix their holed Vacuum box on the brakes after some advice from Ken.
    "The trouble is they've bought it but don't know how to drive it or look after it." Geoff said. "Those repairs will hold for a while but they will have to keep re-doing them every couple of miles until they can get a welder to patch it up properly."

    Today we were to drive to Zomba and were soon on our way. Zomba was the capital city of Malawi until 1975 and the seat of Parliament as recently as 1994. The Bradt Guide describes it as 'the most immediately appealing' of Malawi's larger towns and it certainly presents a more pleasing aspect than Lilongwe.
    The buildings have a kind of faded colonial grandeur and when we parked at the PTC the street was wide, clean and pleasant in spite of the salesmen hassling us to buy their souvenirs. After a brief detour to drop off our damaged tyre we drove out of the town and up the hill towards the Zomba Plateau and the Ku Chawe Inn where we would be staying for two nights.
    The hotel is right on the edge of the plateau and has stunning views of what seems to be the whole rift valley laid out before you. Architecturally the hotel is also quite stunning being both ultra modern and deeply African. It's arched corridors and reception lead into a small bar decorated with African carvings and then open out into a restaurant and balcony that overlooks first the tiers of the hotel's gardens and beyond them the valley.
    We sat in the bar for an hour having a leisurely drink while the rooms were being prepared and then we checked in. The rooms were in keeping with the general quality of the hotel. Large and well decorated they were all fully en suite with balconies with gorgeous views and even with television.
    "Can we make a deal ?" I asked. Barry looked up from unpacking.
    "I won't turn the TV on if you don't." I said
    "I never watch television." he said humourlessly.

    We all met up again in the bar before dinner and discovered that tonight there was a special Christmas Menu. Moving to the restaurant we found a table ready for us at the end of a large and festively decorated room with a band playing traditional music at the other end and lots of people already enjoying Christmas. Pretty soon the beer and wine were flowing freely and it was a slightly drunk group of people that eventually drifted off to their rooms. It was not, I reflected, what people back home expect of me at Christmas. There was proper food in a posh hotel and not a hole in the ground in sight.