22 July 2016
We had to get up at the ungodly hour of 0730 today to prepare for pickup for our half day of white water rafting. Jacob, our driver, was able to join us on this activity for free because he is Zambian, which we were all really pleased about. Jacob is lovely, super helpful and a very good driver. It was great to be having his company for some fun things too.
I wasn’t very sure that I wanted to do this activity. I don’t like being splashed with cold water, never mind being repeatedly swamped with it and half drowned. And I get really frightened when any water gets in my mouth or up my nose. But I knew if I didn’t try this now I might never do it, and it seemed insane to come all this way and then renege at the last moment. So I bit my tongue and carried on, even though I would far rather have given it a miss.
A team of about 8 incredibly well built locals picked us up in a truck and drove us for an hour far into what appeared to be African bush that I became afraid we were being kidnapped. More fool them, mind, because I wouldn’t have given a single Zambian kwacha to get Yanni back, although by this stage of our travels I might well have paid handsomely to have her removed! But we did eventually arrive at a launch site where three other rafts were being inflated and three eager parties waited eagerly to get on them. Our raft leader gave us a very competent introduction to rafting and instructions on various key positions and terms; then we got on the raft and practiced a few maneuvers before paddling out into the middle of the river behind the other three rafts.
We spent the next 4 hours in various states of horror, exultation, anxiety when other rafts turned over, panic when we jumped in the water to swim and noticed crocodiles sleeping on the banks, delight and about a hundred other feelings. Our instructor introduced us to each rapid as we approached it giving its number and name, and what names they had - the washing machine; the destroyer; terminator 1 and 2; the boiling pot; and so on. Insanely, we paddled full speed into each of the rapids and kept obeying instruction to paddle no matter what hit us. I repeatedly landed in the bottom of the raft and paddled frantically from there. At times we reached tipping point, but somehow the raft just managed to make it over the edge of the wave and back down and up in to the next one. Some times we had to throw ourselves down on our knees in the bottom of the raft and cling to the cable along the side. The water was freezing; the danger of capsize was very real; and the feeling of camaraderie and joy each time we battled through a rapid was fabulous. We yelled and whooped as we left the tumult behind us, and clapped paddles together as a team to congratulate ourselves each time we got through without being tipped over.
At times, when the river was calm or there was just a small rapid, we were allowed to jump out of the raft and allow ourselves to be carried along by the water. Sometimes we were caught in little rapids and tossed around; a couple of times we were caught in little whirlpools and spun helplessly around until we were spat out by the water and allowed to continue. I can’t remember how many times I found myself being dragged towards rocks by fast flowing water and had to swim very hard to avoid them. Twice a canoe nipped in and rescued me, which was really fun. One held a small piece of rope on the front of the canoe and put ones feet up to cling to its sides, and the canoe’s quickly took us to safety. Once I had to let go of the front and catch the back cable, and this meant kicking like billy-0 as the canoeist paddled us to safety. One time Yanni was swept far up front and away around the corner of the river, but as I had been swept towards rocks and then dunked under the water I couldn’t do anything about it. I was getting really worried when I was finally pulled aboard a raft, but happily Yanni has been tracked by a canoeist and was already sitting happily in one of the rafts trading insults with some Americans. The whole thing was a tremendous adventure, and I would warmly recommend that everyone do it. ONCE.
While bungee jumping was frightening as hell, the experience only lasted about 15 minutes in all. Long enough to see people preparing to jump and laugh at them as the wet themselves and wailed and had to be pushed off; then to realize we were being selected to be prepared and chained and whatnot; and then the one minute drop after they pushed you off. Terrifying, exhilarating, and all that stuff, but short. The white water rafting went from pick up at 0800 hours to return to the hotel at 1500 hours. And every minute of it was totally engaging and exciting.
Oddly enough, I lost my voice during the rafting although I don’t know when. And when we got out of the raft after so many hours of frantic paddling, I found it very difficult to walk. My enraged leg and arm muscles went on strike as soon as I tried to get out of the raft and on to dry land. I had to be semi dragged out, and could only then walk with small lurches in an I’ve-wet-my-pants-position. One felt a fool. We were asked, very politely, if we would like to walk up the cliff to the waiting car or take a cable care. The cliffs were extremely high, sheer, and well over 100 meters so we were told, and to have climbed them would have taken many, many hours - if we could have done it at all. So Yanni and I scrambled for places in the cable car, and stood there with the other exhausted msungus (whites) as we helped to prop each other up/slumped on the floor in exhaustion, and congratulated each other on the fantastic job we had done surviving the rapids. We were all a bit aghast to note, just as we came towards the top of the cliff, the Zambian staff actually jogging up the side of the cliffs with either a canoe or part of a life raft on their heads! Unbelievable! They all got to the top of the cliff before we even got out of the cable car, then they had to put all the equipment down to come and help drag me to somewhere I could sit down. And somehow they were still all smiles and laughter as they dismantled all the equipment and lifted it on to the back of the truck, before helping us to seats inside and then taking their seats clinging to the equipment on the back for our 1 hour drive back through the villages and out to our hotel. I just cannot conceive of how anyone could get so incredibly fit!
We finished the day at a lovely hotel watching the sun go down while we got slightly pizzled. Being lightweights, this wasn’t too difficult. Yanni advised on cocktails and introduced me to the Bellina and a few others I can’t remember. Everything seemed enormously amusing after that, even not being able to walk properly. We collapsed into bed feeling utterly exhausted and that we would never get out of bed again. Which couldn’t happen because we were booked to do a micro lite flight over the falls and had to be up for an 0730 pickup. And why I kept letting myself be talked into doing all this stuff I do not know.
Tuesday, 26 July 2016
21 July 2016
We had a fabulous, if terrifying, day today. We went to Victoria falls and spent an obscene sum of money on doing every activity, which included a tandem slide with Yanni over Victoria Falls, then a tandem gorge swing with Yanni which was very terrifying, a bungee jump for Yanni, and seeing as I wasn’t allowed to do one because of old back injuries, a solo gorge swing for me.
The initial slide was very straightforward and tame, as we were belted up together then swung beneath a metal cable from one side of the falls to about three quarters of the way across. We were ‘caught’ by two exceedingly well-built Zambian guys, both of whom Yanni and I were delighted to cling to as we were assisted over a rail and on to a platform some 20 feet below the main railway bridge. We then has to walk the rest of the way to the Zimbabwe side of the falls, where we climbed back on to dry land then scrambled up the side and back on to the bridge.
Immediately we headed back towards the Zambian side of the railway bridge, and to the halfway point where the rest of the activities took place. We did this happily enough, joshing each other as we went about being scared of the next jump. But it didn’t take us long once we had reached the midway point and began to observe the preparations others were making for a jump to stop laughing. The view from there was terrifying. It seemed inconceivable that we had ever thought we might like to jump off this bridge. Somehow the amount of air was frightening. Nothing to reach for, nothing to cling to - just launching ourselves out into the this wide open space, and hoping the belts and braces would work. Then we were called, and went reluctantly forward, feeling caught in a process we seemed unable to stop. The staff really knew what they were doing and we were all shuffled along as if on a conveyor belt. First Yanni was fitted with belts, then I was, and these were then fitted together for a tandem gorge swing. The idea with the gorge swing is that you ‘step off’ the bridge and plummet down feet first with the harness around your waist. Once you reach the end of the cable you swing back and forwards beneath the bridge, which is not uncomfortable and not tough on your skeleton. I became really frightened as we were belted up, although the Zambian staff kept up a constant upbeat front, teasing us about our accents, encouraging us that it would be a wonderful experience, and so on. However, when the two bulky males finally re-checked us then stood each side of us and walked us to the very edge of the bridge, I was appalled. We had watched several others step out for a swing, and enjoyed laughing at their squeaks of alarm and cries of “Oh god oh god oh god”, and of course the final scream as they went over. But there was absolutely nothing funny about standing at the edge of the bridge with the countdown from 4 beginning, and knowing that like it or not, in 5 seconds time you were going to be falling thrown the air towards the ground with no way to control what was going on.
I was so frightened I was sure I couldn’t obey the instructions given to “step forward with the outside foot, then bring the other foot forward”. Typically I cocked it up during practice, as I was so frightened I couldn’t co-ordinate stepping first with my outside foot and then stepping with the inside foot”. A voice screamed in my head “how the hell are you gonna step forward with your other foot when the other one is in mid-air?” But it occurred to me then that if I did not step and Yanni did, I could actually hurt her by being dragged down on top of her. I was going to have to do it, no matter how scared I was. And so I did. Unfortunately I was so scared I bent forward after stepping out and fell across Yanni so that we both fell forward, and when the cable was fully extended we were swung back and forward, which for some reason seemed extremely funny. We were eventually pulled back up, hooked back on to the platform, and made our way back along it to the Zimbabwe side again, climbed back up and on to the bridge, and headed again for the middle.
Yanni was called a few minutes later to do her bungee jump. She was so frightened she stopped responding to the staff banter and, as she told me later, struggled to control her fear at the thought of this solo jump. Once she was belted up she was led, once again, by two burly staff, who got her to raise her arms up and out, and told her to dive up and forward on their count. 4,3,2,1, and despite visibly shaking, Yanni launched herself up and out, her arms outspread, and dived beautifully. It looked easy and serene, but wow, can Yanni scream! She screamed all the way down, stopped briefly when the cable ran out and she was almost jerked out of her own skin then rebounded, and resumed screaming when she started plummeting again. There were several bounces, and on each she started screaming when she resumed falling. I’m amazed she had the energy to keep going.
She had just been hooked and pulled back on to the platform when my own belt-and-bracing was completed. I kept saying I couldn’t do it, and they kept saying I could and confidently marched me to the edge and counted down. But I was right. I couldn’t do it. “Oh” they said in unison together, clearly disappointed, when I didn’t jump. “I can’t do it, I told you I couldn/t do it” I screatched at them as I stood there unable to look down at the appalling drop. “Yes, you can do it” said one of the guys softly. And Yanni’s voice floated up from the platform below “Go on, mum, you can do it” she called up encouragingly. And I suddenly realised not letting Yanni down was more important that how frightened I was, or wasn;t. She had found the courage to do it, so I could do the same. The guys counted down calmly but firmly, and this time on zero I stepped into nothingness, and began to fall.
I don’t remember the fall, except that suddenly I seemed weightless, and to be falling at a tremendous speed. Once again when the end of the cable was reached I was swept out in an arc, and swung back and forward below the bridge. Then I was hauled back to the bridge, and dragged back over the rail and on to the platform for the last time. Yanni had waited for me, and we hugged and laughed for ages. After which, we adjourned to the bridge top cafe for a well deserved spot of lunch, a couple of drinks, and a few hours of delightful idleness, spent laughing at everyone else shaking with fear and being shoved off the bridge.
It was a day I won’t ever forget. Part of the reason I came out to Africa was to get my mind working again, and to try to connect with life again, stop feeling so numb. This, more than any other experience, has helped with these aims. That level of fear certainly did get me in touch with me own feelings again, even if they were unpleasant ones at first. But the helpless laughter afterwards was very cathartic. I felt more alive after today that I have felt for a very very long time.
We had a fabulous, if terrifying, day today. We went to Victoria falls and spent an obscene sum of money on doing every activity, which included a tandem slide with Yanni over Victoria Falls, then a tandem gorge swing with Yanni which was very terrifying, a bungee jump for Yanni, and seeing as I wasn’t allowed to do one because of old back injuries, a solo gorge swing for me.
The initial slide was very straightforward and tame, as we were belted up together then swung beneath a metal cable from one side of the falls to about three quarters of the way across. We were ‘caught’ by two exceedingly well-built Zambian guys, both of whom Yanni and I were delighted to cling to as we were assisted over a rail and on to a platform some 20 feet below the main railway bridge. We then has to walk the rest of the way to the Zimbabwe side of the falls, where we climbed back on to dry land then scrambled up the side and back on to the bridge.
Immediately we headed back towards the Zambian side of the railway bridge, and to the halfway point where the rest of the activities took place. We did this happily enough, joshing each other as we went about being scared of the next jump. But it didn’t take us long once we had reached the midway point and began to observe the preparations others were making for a jump to stop laughing. The view from there was terrifying. It seemed inconceivable that we had ever thought we might like to jump off this bridge. Somehow the amount of air was frightening. Nothing to reach for, nothing to cling to - just launching ourselves out into the this wide open space, and hoping the belts and braces would work. Then we were called, and went reluctantly forward, feeling caught in a process we seemed unable to stop. The staff really knew what they were doing and we were all shuffled along as if on a conveyor belt. First Yanni was fitted with belts, then I was, and these were then fitted together for a tandem gorge swing. The idea with the gorge swing is that you ‘step off’ the bridge and plummet down feet first with the harness around your waist. Once you reach the end of the cable you swing back and forwards beneath the bridge, which is not uncomfortable and not tough on your skeleton. I became really frightened as we were belted up, although the Zambian staff kept up a constant upbeat front, teasing us about our accents, encouraging us that it would be a wonderful experience, and so on. However, when the two bulky males finally re-checked us then stood each side of us and walked us to the very edge of the bridge, I was appalled. We had watched several others step out for a swing, and enjoyed laughing at their squeaks of alarm and cries of “Oh god oh god oh god”, and of course the final scream as they went over. But there was absolutely nothing funny about standing at the edge of the bridge with the countdown from 4 beginning, and knowing that like it or not, in 5 seconds time you were going to be falling thrown the air towards the ground with no way to control what was going on.
I was so frightened I was sure I couldn’t obey the instructions given to “step forward with the outside foot, then bring the other foot forward”. Typically I cocked it up during practice, as I was so frightened I couldn’t co-ordinate stepping first with my outside foot and then stepping with the inside foot”. A voice screamed in my head “how the hell are you gonna step forward with your other foot when the other one is in mid-air?” But it occurred to me then that if I did not step and Yanni did, I could actually hurt her by being dragged down on top of her. I was going to have to do it, no matter how scared I was. And so I did. Unfortunately I was so scared I bent forward after stepping out and fell across Yanni so that we both fell forward, and when the cable was fully extended we were swung back and forward, which for some reason seemed extremely funny. We were eventually pulled back up, hooked back on to the platform, and made our way back along it to the Zimbabwe side again, climbed back up and on to the bridge, and headed again for the middle.
Yanni was called a few minutes later to do her bungee jump. She was so frightened she stopped responding to the staff banter and, as she told me later, struggled to control her fear at the thought of this solo jump. Once she was belted up she was led, once again, by two burly staff, who got her to raise her arms up and out, and told her to dive up and forward on their count. 4,3,2,1, and despite visibly shaking, Yanni launched herself up and out, her arms outspread, and dived beautifully. It looked easy and serene, but wow, can Yanni scream! She screamed all the way down, stopped briefly when the cable ran out and she was almost jerked out of her own skin then rebounded, and resumed screaming when she started plummeting again. There were several bounces, and on each she started screaming when she resumed falling. I’m amazed she had the energy to keep going.
She had just been hooked and pulled back on to the platform when my own belt-and-bracing was completed. I kept saying I couldn’t do it, and they kept saying I could and confidently marched me to the edge and counted down. But I was right. I couldn’t do it. “Oh” they said in unison together, clearly disappointed, when I didn’t jump. “I can’t do it, I told you I couldn/t do it” I screatched at them as I stood there unable to look down at the appalling drop. “Yes, you can do it” said one of the guys softly. And Yanni’s voice floated up from the platform below “Go on, mum, you can do it” she called up encouragingly. And I suddenly realised not letting Yanni down was more important that how frightened I was, or wasn;t. She had found the courage to do it, so I could do the same. The guys counted down calmly but firmly, and this time on zero I stepped into nothingness, and began to fall.
I don’t remember the fall, except that suddenly I seemed weightless, and to be falling at a tremendous speed. Once again when the end of the cable was reached I was swept out in an arc, and swung back and forward below the bridge. Then I was hauled back to the bridge, and dragged back over the rail and on to the platform for the last time. Yanni had waited for me, and we hugged and laughed for ages. After which, we adjourned to the bridge top cafe for a well deserved spot of lunch, a couple of drinks, and a few hours of delightful idleness, spent laughing at everyone else shaking with fear and being shoved off the bridge.
It was a day I won’t ever forget. Part of the reason I came out to Africa was to get my mind working again, and to try to connect with life again, stop feeling so numb. This, more than any other experience, has helped with these aims. That level of fear certainly did get me in touch with me own feelings again, even if they were unpleasant ones at first. But the helpless laughter afterwards was very cathartic. I felt more alive after today that I have felt for a very very long time.
Wednesday 20 July 2016
Our journey through the Zambian boarder went reasonably well yesterday for Yanni and myself, although our driver was held up for 3 hours because the border control car computer was down. We only needed a very simple certificate as the car had all its paperwork and regularly travels between the two countries, but again Malawi’s are very patient and will just stand in queues the heat calmly for any number of hours without complaint. I, of course, was an angel of serenity, but Yanni was a nightmare, all impatience and foul language and suspecting all and sundry of making our lives difficult just for the hell of it. Fortunately I managed to calm her down, and we left far later than we should have and arrived in Lusaka at about midnight.
Our stop over hotel was a backpackers one with shared flushing and, happily, reasonably clean toilet. There was a shower although the water was cold and we decided to wait until we hit our hopefully slightly nicer hotel after traveling today.
We quickly learned to avoid any toilet facility and just relieve ourselves in carefully selected sites along the roadway. The toilet facilities in most places were unspeakably vile, the worst one being a drop toilet that I very nearly dropped into when it came to me as a revelation that I couldn’t stand up after a prolonged - squat. With literally nothing to grab on to or lunge at for a handhold to pull myself up, I found myself sinking irresistibly into the hole as my legs gave up, and had to try as an act of desperation, throwing myself forward and found my calves entirely unequal to the task. I only very narrowly missed loosing my leg down the drop, and that was the last of trying them for me. The flush toilets we met at service stations were even more vile though, as they seldom had toilet seats, and when they did, it was clear at times that people were standing on the toilet seats and naturally the results were pretty disastrous. I can see how baffling the toilets must have been to those who had never seen one before, probably alarming too when they flushed. If they flushed. Still, in the end we decided we preferred to find a quiet bush as a less alarming option and a much less stressful one. Obviously, it would be silly to bare ones butt to a snakes or scorpions or spiders or something of that nature, so caution was required, but still infinitely the better choice in my opinion.
We arrived in Victoria Falls at about tea time and booked into a nice hotel just a few kilometers from the falls. Goodness knows why being driven in a car makes one tired, but it does, so we decided on an early night so we could be up bright and early for our first visit to the Falls tomorrow.
Our journey through the Zambian boarder went reasonably well yesterday for Yanni and myself, although our driver was held up for 3 hours because the border control car computer was down. We only needed a very simple certificate as the car had all its paperwork and regularly travels between the two countries, but again Malawi’s are very patient and will just stand in queues the heat calmly for any number of hours without complaint. I, of course, was an angel of serenity, but Yanni was a nightmare, all impatience and foul language and suspecting all and sundry of making our lives difficult just for the hell of it. Fortunately I managed to calm her down, and we left far later than we should have and arrived in Lusaka at about midnight.
Our stop over hotel was a backpackers one with shared flushing and, happily, reasonably clean toilet. There was a shower although the water was cold and we decided to wait until we hit our hopefully slightly nicer hotel after traveling today.
We quickly learned to avoid any toilet facility and just relieve ourselves in carefully selected sites along the roadway. The toilet facilities in most places were unspeakably vile, the worst one being a drop toilet that I very nearly dropped into when it came to me as a revelation that I couldn’t stand up after a prolonged - squat. With literally nothing to grab on to or lunge at for a handhold to pull myself up, I found myself sinking irresistibly into the hole as my legs gave up, and had to try as an act of desperation, throwing myself forward and found my calves entirely unequal to the task. I only very narrowly missed loosing my leg down the drop, and that was the last of trying them for me. The flush toilets we met at service stations were even more vile though, as they seldom had toilet seats, and when they did, it was clear at times that people were standing on the toilet seats and naturally the results were pretty disastrous. I can see how baffling the toilets must have been to those who had never seen one before, probably alarming too when they flushed. If they flushed. Still, in the end we decided we preferred to find a quiet bush as a less alarming option and a much less stressful one. Obviously, it would be silly to bare ones butt to a snakes or scorpions or spiders or something of that nature, so caution was required, but still infinitely the better choice in my opinion.
We arrived in Victoria Falls at about tea time and booked into a nice hotel just a few kilometers from the falls. Goodness knows why being driven in a car makes one tired, but it does, so we decided on an early night so we could be up bright and early for our first visit to the Falls tomorrow.
Tuesday 19 July 2016
A tough day for Yanni and I as we said goodbye to lovely friends Annelies and Jerome, Linda and Linus and many others at Kuti, and started the final leg of our journey in Africa. This was to be a 2 day trip by car from Kuti through Lilongwe and then on to Zambia, stopping tonight at the major town of Lusaka for a sleep over. Tomorrow we are to travel on to Victoria Falls in Livingstone, where we will spent our last week.
We have chosen a two day drive instead of going by minibus, coach, train or plane for many reasons, all of them practical. The minibus is cheap but that’s because it is entirely unreliable, and traveling on one means accepting at least 20 human passengers in a van designed for 9, and an unknown quantity of baskets of hens, bags of maize, sugar cane or literally any other produce. The vans travel when they believe they are full, so you might insert yourself into a seat carefully at 9am and wait for 10 hours for the remaining 1 theoretical seat to be filled. Malawi’s have incredible patience and tolerance for heat, thirst and discomfort. I don’t. We declined the minivan option.
The coach could have worked but only goes twice a week each way, neither on days that fitted in with our schedules.
The train also went about twice a week, but we would have had a very round about journey and again trains are unreliable, overpacked and Malawi’s are capable of doing anyone on one, such a lighting up a little fire to make nsima, a bowl of maise flour and water cooked to form a porridge like gruel and then portioned into flat patties usually eaten by hand. Nsima has no nutritional value but works well as a stomach filler. This is eaten 3 times a day, and it is said that an African does not believe he has eaten if he does not have nsima as part of his meal. Again maize and other produce, and livestock like chickens can travel by train, so we were not keen to do this.
The plane rides involved lots of messing about via taxi and transfers and very high costs, so we opted for the 2 day travel by car. This meant we could stop when we wanted to, and best of all see the changing landscape as we traveled. So after sad farewells we loaded up our car and headed for the main roads of Malawi, many of which are dirt, and none of which have road names or any form of signposting. Just as well Malawi is so beautiful! We passed endless
A tough day for Yanni and I as we said goodbye to lovely friends Annelies and Jerome, Linda and Linus and many others at Kuti, and started the final leg of our journey in Africa. This was to be a 2 day trip by car from Kuti through Lilongwe and then on to Zambia, stopping tonight at the major town of Lusaka for a sleep over. Tomorrow we are to travel on to Victoria Falls in Livingstone, where we will spent our last week.
We have chosen a two day drive instead of going by minibus, coach, train or plane for many reasons, all of them practical. The minibus is cheap but that’s because it is entirely unreliable, and traveling on one means accepting at least 20 human passengers in a van designed for 9, and an unknown quantity of baskets of hens, bags of maize, sugar cane or literally any other produce. The vans travel when they believe they are full, so you might insert yourself into a seat carefully at 9am and wait for 10 hours for the remaining 1 theoretical seat to be filled. Malawi’s have incredible patience and tolerance for heat, thirst and discomfort. I don’t. We declined the minivan option.
The coach could have worked but only goes twice a week each way, neither on days that fitted in with our schedules.
The train also went about twice a week, but we would have had a very round about journey and again trains are unreliable, overpacked and Malawi’s are capable of doing anyone on one, such a lighting up a little fire to make nsima, a bowl of maise flour and water cooked to form a porridge like gruel and then portioned into flat patties usually eaten by hand. Nsima has no nutritional value but works well as a stomach filler. This is eaten 3 times a day, and it is said that an African does not believe he has eaten if he does not have nsima as part of his meal. Again maize and other produce, and livestock like chickens can travel by train, so we were not keen to do this.
The plane rides involved lots of messing about via taxi and transfers and very high costs, so we opted for the 2 day travel by car. This meant we could stop when we wanted to, and best of all see the changing landscape as we traveled. So after sad farewells we loaded up our car and headed for the main roads of Malawi, many of which are dirt, and none of which have road names or any form of signposting. Just as well Malawi is so beautiful! We passed endless
Tuesday 19 July 2016
A tough day for Yanni and I as we said goodbye to lovely friends Annelies and Jerome, Linda and Linus and many others at Kuti, and started the final leg of our journey in Africa. This was to be a 2 day trip by car from Kuti through Lilongwe and then on to Zambia, stopping tonight at the major town of Lusaka for a sleep over. Tomorrow we are to travel on to Victoria Falls in Livingstone, where we will spent our last week.
We have chosen a two day drive instead of going by minibus, coach, train or plane for many reasons, all of them practical. The minibus is cheap but that’s because it is entirely unreliable, and traveling on one means accepting at least 20 human passengers in a van designed for 9, and an unknown quantity of baskets of hens, bags of maize, sugar cane or literally any other produce. The vans travel when they believe they are full, so you might insert yourself into a seat carefully at 9am and wait for 10 hours for the remaining 1 theoretical seat to be filled. Malawi’s have incredible patience and tolerance for heat, thirst and discomfort. I don’t. We declined the minivan option.
The coach could have worked but only goes twice a week each way, neither on days that fitted in with our schedules.
The train also went about twice a week, but we would have had a very round about journey and again trains are unreliable, overpacked and Malawi’s are capable of doing anyone on one, such a lighting up a little fire to make nsima, a bowl of maise flour and water cooked to form a porridge like gruel and then portioned into flat patties usually eaten by hand. Nsima has no nutritional value but works well as a stomach filler. This is eaten 3 times a day, and it is said that an African does not believe he has eaten if he does not have nsima as part of his meal. Again maize and other produce, and livestock like chickens can travel by train, so we were not keen to do this.
The plane rides involved lots of messing about via taxi and transfers and very high costs, so we opted for the 2 day travel by car. This meant we could stop when we wanted to, and best of all see the changing landscape as we traveled. So after sad farewells we loaded up our car and headed for the main roads of Malawi, many of which are dirt, and none of which have road names or any form of signposting. Just as well Malawi is so beautiful! We passed endless
A tough day for Yanni and I as we said goodbye to lovely friends Annelies and Jerome, Linda and Linus and many others at Kuti, and started the final leg of our journey in Africa. This was to be a 2 day trip by car from Kuti through Lilongwe and then on to Zambia, stopping tonight at the major town of Lusaka for a sleep over. Tomorrow we are to travel on to Victoria Falls in Livingstone, where we will spent our last week.
We have chosen a two day drive instead of going by minibus, coach, train or plane for many reasons, all of them practical. The minibus is cheap but that’s because it is entirely unreliable, and traveling on one means accepting at least 20 human passengers in a van designed for 9, and an unknown quantity of baskets of hens, bags of maize, sugar cane or literally any other produce. The vans travel when they believe they are full, so you might insert yourself into a seat carefully at 9am and wait for 10 hours for the remaining 1 theoretical seat to be filled. Malawi’s have incredible patience and tolerance for heat, thirst and discomfort. I don’t. We declined the minivan option.
The coach could have worked but only goes twice a week each way, neither on days that fitted in with our schedules.
The train also went about twice a week, but we would have had a very round about journey and again trains are unreliable, overpacked and Malawi’s are capable of doing anyone on one, such a lighting up a little fire to make nsima, a bowl of maise flour and water cooked to form a porridge like gruel and then portioned into flat patties usually eaten by hand. Nsima has no nutritional value but works well as a stomach filler. This is eaten 3 times a day, and it is said that an African does not believe he has eaten if he does not have nsima as part of his meal. Again maize and other produce, and livestock like chickens can travel by train, so we were not keen to do this.
The plane rides involved lots of messing about via taxi and transfers and very high costs, so we opted for the 2 day travel by car. This meant we could stop when we wanted to, and best of all see the changing landscape as we traveled. So after sad farewells we loaded up our car and headed for the main roads of Malawi, many of which are dirt, and none of which have road names or any form of signposting. Just as well Malawi is so beautiful! We passed endless
Friday, 22 July 2016
Friday 15 July 2016
Spent the morning working on painting signs, and when Yanni and Aylissa joined in this afternoon, That Bloody Ostrich decided to join in. She is always eating because food is not plentiful for her this time of year, so she can only take in enough calories if she browses night and day, so she continually pecks at things around her. Unfortunately her eyesight isn’t very good - as a rule ostriches are thought not to have particularly good eyesight - so she pecks at things she shouldn’t, like a fire, a shoe, a signpost, the side of your head. Ostriches are not known for having a high IQ.
Interestingly, if you think an ostrich is going to attack you, you simply need to hold up something that appears to make you taller than her. A hat on a stick or an upside down broom. Otherwise, just holding up a stick will work. As long as it’s higher than the ostrich’s head the ostrich will believe you are taller so will back off. I just love that!
I did try telling Yanni this, but you can see in the pictures he preferred to back off herself. Mind you, if the ostrich did peck I imagine she could hurt, although I don’t know if she could do any real damage.
We had a lovely meal this evening, making our own pizzas that were cooked in the outside pizza oven. I got some photos of our kitchen today, so I have put these in. Despite have these very small facilities, plus the pizza oven outside, and a half barrel BBQ/grill, one cook can produce meals for up to 70 people three times a day. And very nice food too, actually. Really good curries, dahl, n’seema, pasties, pies, dhosa,, lentil dishes, chickpea salads, omelet - they will have a go at anything.
Spent the morning working on painting signs, and when Yanni and Aylissa joined in this afternoon, That Bloody Ostrich decided to join in. She is always eating because food is not plentiful for her this time of year, so she can only take in enough calories if she browses night and day, so she continually pecks at things around her. Unfortunately her eyesight isn’t very good - as a rule ostriches are thought not to have particularly good eyesight - so she pecks at things she shouldn’t, like a fire, a shoe, a signpost, the side of your head. Ostriches are not known for having a high IQ.
Interestingly, if you think an ostrich is going to attack you, you simply need to hold up something that appears to make you taller than her. A hat on a stick or an upside down broom. Otherwise, just holding up a stick will work. As long as it’s higher than the ostrich’s head the ostrich will believe you are taller so will back off. I just love that!
I did try telling Yanni this, but you can see in the pictures he preferred to back off herself. Mind you, if the ostrich did peck I imagine she could hurt, although I don’t know if she could do any real damage.
We had a lovely meal this evening, making our own pizzas that were cooked in the outside pizza oven. I got some photos of our kitchen today, so I have put these in. Despite have these very small facilities, plus the pizza oven outside, and a half barrel BBQ/grill, one cook can produce meals for up to 70 people three times a day. And very nice food too, actually. Really good curries, dahl, n’seema, pasties, pies, dhosa,, lentil dishes, chickpea salads, omelet - they will have a go at anything.
Wednesday, 20 July 2016
Monday 11 July
First visit to sunset deck. This was particularly interesting at the deck was built on the edge of a very large lake with excellent views of the surrounding landscape. However you can see from the pictures below that the water has almost dried up completely. There is a very small puddle of water in the center of what should be the lake. The pictures don’t show the waterside chalets - these were built to rent out to tourists but, in typically African style, they started building a whole series of them and none were finished because they ran out of money. There are a lot of expensive looking half properties, or derelict buildings around the site. In the extreme weather conditions we have here buildings need constant upkeep, and this is not always possible due to lack of finances and staff. A new set of volunteer buildings are being built at the moment - photos to follow - and it is hoped these will attract more volunteers who come to stay for a short or longer time and work here.
The managers of the site here at Kuti are Annelies and Jerome, a Dutch couple. Jerome is a biologist, he has worked in research and conservation for wildlife and plants in many different African countries. Annelies works with media, PR and event management. Both lectured at universities in Amsterdam before meeting about 6 years ago, and moving out here earlier this year. Together they seem ideally suited to manage the work here at Kuti. Already they have built very good relationship with the 45 staff who work here and their families, many of whom live on the reserve. They are keen to improve the lives of the staff and are working to do this is many ways such as by providing transport and medical treatment for staff or members their families who are sick; helping the staff attend courses so they can improve their career prospects, and helping to get sponsorship so the children of staff can attend school.
They also work with local villagers. There are 12 main villages and 12 village chiefs. Each village is broken down into a number of smaller villages. Altogether there are about 70,000 people living around the reserve. Most of the villagers have lived in this area and around the reserve for decades, through previous incarnations as a cattle ranch and hunting reserve. Naturally they see it as ‘their’ territory, although now that it is now a conservation reserve this is no longer true for practical purposes. While the villagers all need wood 3 times a day to cook their food, and the best place for them to find wood is in the reserve, they know it is no longer legal for them to collect it here. They know it is illegal for them to enter the premises without a written warrant, or to remove anything from the grounds, but of course they have a sense of entitlement and continue to do so. They also come to collect grasses to thatch their roofs or to sell. They also kill whatever animals they find, and collect caterpillars, crickets and other small insects to eat. This causes tension between our staff and the villagers.
SCOUTS
There are 24 full time scouts/guards here who patrol the property 24/7 against poachers. Again this can be difficult when the poachers are related to the scouts. Also, Malawi is a very poor country and some of these villagers are literally starving, so it can be very difficult to refuse them the things they feel they need and are entitled to have. As it stands poachers are encountered on average twice a day and the same at night. The Police are always involved if the intruder has killed any animals or insects or cut down any trees. If they have simply picked up fallen wood they receive a caution. Village chiefs are also called to come and collect those who have been caught poaching, so that they can also give the poachers an explanation as to why they can not come on to the property, and caution them not to do so again.
The food situation is getting worse here, and again when you look at the pictures of sunset deck posted above you can see why. Insufficient rain during the rainy season means crops die, the drought leading to famine.. Ideally Jerome, Annelies and the villagers all need to have a shared vision for the reserve, but I don't see that happening for a very long time. Maslow's hierarchy of needs explains why - the Malawi villagers are very poor, and literally are working each day for food for that day - so right on level 1 of Maslow's hierarchy. Jerome and Annelies, while by no means being rich, have some financial security, so have reliable access to food, water, education, accommodation, jobs, a sense of belonging and so on. They are working at the level of self actualisation. The villagers need wood to cook with 3 times a day, animals to eat, grass to sell at market - they will never be able to work together with Jerome and Annelies on the goal of conservation until their own basic needs are reliably met. Last week 5% of the reserve burnt down in a bush fire; at the same time a group of 30 women climbed through the fences to collect firewood. Coincidence?
First visit to sunset deck. This was particularly interesting at the deck was built on the edge of a very large lake with excellent views of the surrounding landscape. However you can see from the pictures below that the water has almost dried up completely. There is a very small puddle of water in the center of what should be the lake. The pictures don’t show the waterside chalets - these were built to rent out to tourists but, in typically African style, they started building a whole series of them and none were finished because they ran out of money. There are a lot of expensive looking half properties, or derelict buildings around the site. In the extreme weather conditions we have here buildings need constant upkeep, and this is not always possible due to lack of finances and staff. A new set of volunteer buildings are being built at the moment - photos to follow - and it is hoped these will attract more volunteers who come to stay for a short or longer time and work here.
 |
| View from Sunset Deck with tiny puddle of water instead of the huge lake it should be |
 |
| Beautiful sunset views |
They also work with local villagers. There are 12 main villages and 12 village chiefs. Each village is broken down into a number of smaller villages. Altogether there are about 70,000 people living around the reserve. Most of the villagers have lived in this area and around the reserve for decades, through previous incarnations as a cattle ranch and hunting reserve. Naturally they see it as ‘their’ territory, although now that it is now a conservation reserve this is no longer true for practical purposes. While the villagers all need wood 3 times a day to cook their food, and the best place for them to find wood is in the reserve, they know it is no longer legal for them to collect it here. They know it is illegal for them to enter the premises without a written warrant, or to remove anything from the grounds, but of course they have a sense of entitlement and continue to do so. They also come to collect grasses to thatch their roofs or to sell. They also kill whatever animals they find, and collect caterpillars, crickets and other small insects to eat. This causes tension between our staff and the villagers.
SCOUTS
There are 24 full time scouts/guards here who patrol the property 24/7 against poachers. Again this can be difficult when the poachers are related to the scouts. Also, Malawi is a very poor country and some of these villagers are literally starving, so it can be very difficult to refuse them the things they feel they need and are entitled to have. As it stands poachers are encountered on average twice a day and the same at night. The Police are always involved if the intruder has killed any animals or insects or cut down any trees. If they have simply picked up fallen wood they receive a caution. Village chiefs are also called to come and collect those who have been caught poaching, so that they can also give the poachers an explanation as to why they can not come on to the property, and caution them not to do so again.
The food situation is getting worse here, and again when you look at the pictures of sunset deck posted above you can see why. Insufficient rain during the rainy season means crops die, the drought leading to famine.. Ideally Jerome, Annelies and the villagers all need to have a shared vision for the reserve, but I don't see that happening for a very long time. Maslow's hierarchy of needs explains why - the Malawi villagers are very poor, and literally are working each day for food for that day - so right on level 1 of Maslow's hierarchy. Jerome and Annelies, while by no means being rich, have some financial security, so have reliable access to food, water, education, accommodation, jobs, a sense of belonging and so on. They are working at the level of self actualisation. The villagers need wood to cook with 3 times a day, animals to eat, grass to sell at market - they will never be able to work together with Jerome and Annelies on the goal of conservation until their own basic needs are reliably met. Last week 5% of the reserve burnt down in a bush fire; at the same time a group of 30 women climbed through the fences to collect firewood. Coincidence?
Sunday, 10 July 2016
Sunday 10 July
I keep taking photos of health and safety disasters here in Malawi because they are so breath taking. For instance, walking over a wood plank bridge at the sanctuary at night and finding there are planks missing. Holes in roads and paths than could break a leg/car suspension, if it had any. My photos are crap but I've been looking for some examples to show you, and here they are:
I keep taking photos of health and safety disasters here in Malawi because they are so breath taking. For instance, walking over a wood plank bridge at the sanctuary at night and finding there are planks missing. Holes in roads and paths than could break a leg/car suspension, if it had any. My photos are crap but I've been looking for some examples to show you, and here they are:
Yanni will be travelling to Kuti on Tuesday and will be in public transport, all fingers crossed she makes it OK!
Saturday, 9 July 2016
Friday 8 July 2016
I am beginning to feel persecuted. It’s because I am too soft, that s what it is. This bloody ostrich is following me everywhere - I can’t move without tripping over the damn thing. I am on the way to the office to prepare some English lessons for staff, and what comes through the open window and gives me the evil eye? Ermentrude the staff call her. Should just be Intrude, in my opinion.
I was on the way to get lunch, and who do you think go their first?
On my way to the office, and who is lurking by, waiting to stick her head in the window and give me the evil eye?
And then, on my way to bed, who is lying in the middle of the lane leading to my cosy bed?
I thought she was dead. So she waggled her head and neck at me - not a pretty sight:
But fear not, tomorrow I have an outing and will leave this idiot bird behind. Tomorrow night I go to the most popular musical group in Malawi, the Black Missionaires. Just look at these bad boys:
The venue is Salima Bay, which is part of Lake Malawi. Gonna be on the beach, and everyone will be dancing, and I'm gonna dance too. Jeremy (first enormous Dutch husband) used to say I danced like a camel. Which is probably true, but I'm going to be doing my camel dance on the beach in Malawi at midnight. Now - who could ask for more from a holiday, eh?
I am beginning to feel persecuted. It’s because I am too soft, that s what it is. This bloody ostrich is following me everywhere - I can’t move without tripping over the damn thing. I am on the way to the office to prepare some English lessons for staff, and what comes through the open window and gives me the evil eye? Ermentrude the staff call her. Should just be Intrude, in my opinion.
I was on the way to get lunch, and who do you think go their first?
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| Sneaky on ahead to see if she can get to my dinner first |
On my way to the office, and who is lurking by, waiting to stick her head in the window and give me the evil eye?
 |
| A nosy bugger who should be minding her own business |
And then, on my way to bed, who is lying in the middle of the lane leading to my cosy bed?
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| Pretending to be dead |
I thought she was dead. So she waggled her head and neck at me - not a pretty sight:
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| That's me in the car, trying to run her down... |
The venue is Salima Bay, which is part of Lake Malawi. Gonna be on the beach, and everyone will be dancing, and I'm gonna dance too. Jeremy (first enormous Dutch husband) used to say I danced like a camel. Which is probably true, but I'm going to be doing my camel dance on the beach in Malawi at midnight. Now - who could ask for more from a holiday, eh?
Friday, 8 July 2016
Thursday 7 July 2016
We started the day at 0800 with a survey of the area, details animals seen, and noting any changes in landscape etc. We noted two large piles of grass reeds that had been harvested and stacked, possibly by locals who come on to the premises at times to take firewood and anything else they can get hold of really. We will report this and the grounds staff will check that the reeds are ones they have harvested and are planning to export. The reserve sells grass reeds for thatching each year, one of the few incomes it can rely on.
The zebras came past the office today while I was working there, popped their noses inside for a quick shifty, then headed on up the road towards the watering hole. While eating lunch today the ostrich came to the dining area and popped her head under the thatch, then turned her head to one side, I assume to see us better from one eye. In the toilet this morning a large frog came in to observe my oblutions; and once I had completed my duties I turned around to flush the chain and found a large lizard squatting on top of the water tank. It’s amazing how quickly you become accustomed to something that you would usually consider extraordinary. Mind you, I didn’t think it ordinary today when I was making my way back to base in the dark this evening, and concentrating my torch on a persistent lizard, of whose intentions I felt unsure. Which is why I totally failed to notice the ostrich squatting on the ground for 40 winks. I only saw her on the periphery, I suppose, and probably thought she was a rock. When I stepped really close to her though, my light still carefully trained on the lizard, she whipped her head around and I bad thing nearly happened, particularly unwelcome when you have to do your own hand washing. My goodness, the ostrich is a peculiar looking bird. And by no means cute. Apparently she lays very tasty eggs though, 1 egg equaling 24 hens eggs. Let’s hope someone finds one around breakfast time son time soon.
Lionant
I like these, they are jolly little chaps with a great sense of fun. There are a lot of them about at the LWC and here, and they are very clever. In average-sized larva digs a pit about 2 in deep and 3 in wide at the edge. Having marked out the chosen site by a circular groove, the antlion larva starts to crawl backwards, using its abdomen as a plough to shovel up the soil. By the aid of one front leg, it places consecutive heaps of loosened particles upon its head, then with a smart jerk throws each little pile clear of the scene of operations. Proceeding thus, it gradually works its way from the circumference towards the center. As it slowly moves round and round, the pit gradually gets deeper and deeper, until the slope angle reaches the critical angle of repose (that is, the steepest angle the sand can maintain, where it is on the verge of collapse from slight disturbance). When the pit is completed, the larva settles down at the bottom, buried in the soil with only the jaws projecting above the surface, often in a wide-opened position on either side of the very tip of the cone. The steep-sloped trap that guides prey into the larva's mouth while avoiding crater avalanches is one of the simplest and most efficient traps in the animal kingdom. Since the sides of the pit consist of loose sand at its angle of repose, they afford an insecure foothold to any small insects that inadvertently venture over the edge, such as ants. Slipping to the bottom, the prey is immediately seized by the lurking antlion; if it attempts to scramble up the treacherous walls of the pit, it is brought down by showers of loose sand which are thrown at it from below by the larva. By throwing up loose sand from the bottom of the pit, the larva also undermines the sides of the pit, causing them to collapse and bring the prey with them.
Antlion larvae are capable of capturing and killing a variety of insects and other arthropods, and can even subdue small spiders. The projections in the jaws of the larva are hollow and through this, the larva sucks the fluids out of its victim. After the contents are consumed, the dry carcass is flicked out of the pit. The larva readies the pit once again by throwing out collapsed material from the center, steepening the pit walls to the angle of repose.
How clever is all that!
We started the day at 0800 with a survey of the area, details animals seen, and noting any changes in landscape etc. We noted two large piles of grass reeds that had been harvested and stacked, possibly by locals who come on to the premises at times to take firewood and anything else they can get hold of really. We will report this and the grounds staff will check that the reeds are ones they have harvested and are planning to export. The reserve sells grass reeds for thatching each year, one of the few incomes it can rely on.
The zebras came past the office today while I was working there, popped their noses inside for a quick shifty, then headed on up the road towards the watering hole. While eating lunch today the ostrich came to the dining area and popped her head under the thatch, then turned her head to one side, I assume to see us better from one eye. In the toilet this morning a large frog came in to observe my oblutions; and once I had completed my duties I turned around to flush the chain and found a large lizard squatting on top of the water tank. It’s amazing how quickly you become accustomed to something that you would usually consider extraordinary. Mind you, I didn’t think it ordinary today when I was making my way back to base in the dark this evening, and concentrating my torch on a persistent lizard, of whose intentions I felt unsure. Which is why I totally failed to notice the ostrich squatting on the ground for 40 winks. I only saw her on the periphery, I suppose, and probably thought she was a rock. When I stepped really close to her though, my light still carefully trained on the lizard, she whipped her head around and I bad thing nearly happened, particularly unwelcome when you have to do your own hand washing. My goodness, the ostrich is a peculiar looking bird. And by no means cute. Apparently she lays very tasty eggs though, 1 egg equaling 24 hens eggs. Let’s hope someone finds one around breakfast time son time soon.
Lionant
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| Antlion |
I like these, they are jolly little chaps with a great sense of fun. There are a lot of them about at the LWC and here, and they are very clever. In average-sized larva digs a pit about 2 in deep and 3 in wide at the edge. Having marked out the chosen site by a circular groove, the antlion larva starts to crawl backwards, using its abdomen as a plough to shovel up the soil. By the aid of one front leg, it places consecutive heaps of loosened particles upon its head, then with a smart jerk throws each little pile clear of the scene of operations. Proceeding thus, it gradually works its way from the circumference towards the center. As it slowly moves round and round, the pit gradually gets deeper and deeper, until the slope angle reaches the critical angle of repose (that is, the steepest angle the sand can maintain, where it is on the verge of collapse from slight disturbance). When the pit is completed, the larva settles down at the bottom, buried in the soil with only the jaws projecting above the surface, often in a wide-opened position on either side of the very tip of the cone. The steep-sloped trap that guides prey into the larva's mouth while avoiding crater avalanches is one of the simplest and most efficient traps in the animal kingdom. Since the sides of the pit consist of loose sand at its angle of repose, they afford an insecure foothold to any small insects that inadvertently venture over the edge, such as ants. Slipping to the bottom, the prey is immediately seized by the lurking antlion; if it attempts to scramble up the treacherous walls of the pit, it is brought down by showers of loose sand which are thrown at it from below by the larva. By throwing up loose sand from the bottom of the pit, the larva also undermines the sides of the pit, causing them to collapse and bring the prey with them.
 |
| Antlion hole |
Antlion larvae are capable of capturing and killing a variety of insects and other arthropods, and can even subdue small spiders. The projections in the jaws of the larva are hollow and through this, the larva sucks the fluids out of its victim. After the contents are consumed, the dry carcass is flicked out of the pit. The larva readies the pit once again by throwing out collapsed material from the center, steepening the pit walls to the angle of repose.
How clever is all that!
Wednesday, 6 July 2016
Wednesday 6 July 2016
However without a comprehensive vision or proper management the site was unable to cover even its most basic operations costs. As a result locals were increasingly encroaching on the land which was a rich source of wood, grasses for thatching, and general bushmeat (antelope etc).
Recently an education centre was constructed and is used by local schools for teaching on land and wildlife conservation. A tourist centre/shop is being built and will sell high end products from Africa such as Tribal Textiles (which Yanni and I visited on the way back from South Luanga National Park), and pottery (probably from Dedsa, which Yanni and I visited a couple of weeks ago). Another shop is planned for sales of meat, chicken and eggs from local farmers. The site is also considering offering tuition in classes tourists may enjoy, such as making/decorating textiles/clay pots, and perhaps also classes for locals in basic literacy, spoken English and maths. Management are engaged in discussion around repopulating the reserve with a variety of animals including those requiring rehabilitation or some other form of support, for both tourism and conservation purposes. They are also considering bringing horses back so that tourists can view the wildlife on horseback instead of on jeep, as at present.
Today was my first day at the reserve. We began with an 0800 walk and survey of the Immediate grounds. This took almost 2 hours, and we identified quite a bit of local wildlife, all of whom were dutifully noted by yours truly on a spreadsheet. Zebra, baboon and antelope tracks were too numerous to be listed, so we only wrote down the animals we saw. We saw several types of antelope - duiker, impala, newbuck and a few others. We also came across a very odd pair, a 3 year old giraffe and a 7 year old camel. I didn’t manage to get a photo of them but will try to add one later on in this blog. The giraffe was born here, but her mother died. Bereft of company, she naturally quickly became unable to ascertain what species she was. When she met the reserve’s only remaining camel, they teamed up. They are an odd sight the two of them, pootering around together, rather touching somehow. It is hoped that the site will be able to restock some animals before too long.
Black mambas
We touched on the topic of snakes, which are known to live here but seldom seen. A medium sized black mamba was discovered behind a crate in the kitchen some months ago. The cook, who was unable to get out of the kitchen because the snake was between him and the door, started yelling and throwing potatoes at it. This turned out not to be a good way to get a black mamba to go away. It raised its hood, and appeared to be preparing to spit - they can spit deadly venom over 30 feet when they have a mind. Another local staff member began urgently advising him through a window, and suggested he take a stick (a mop handle was identified), and very gently poke the snake with this. The idea was that the snake would not feel threatened but just discomforted, and so choose to leave an environment swiftly becoming too noisy for comfort. The terrified cook took hold of the mop, but instead of a gentle poke he almost eviscerated the mamba, at which point it fortunately slithered out of the door and away. It’s very surprising it didn’t spit at him. I’m glad he didn’t though, because my dinner was very enjoyable this evening and I don’t think local wildlife should be allowed to deprive me of such few comforts as I am able to seek out and enjoy here.
When we returned to base we found a very large ostrich browsing beside the dining area - I have been told she sometimes tries to come in, but fortunately is unable to manage the steps. She seemed unafraid of humans. Again, she is the only one of her species left on site, so it is very likely she does not identify as, or know how to behave like, an ostrich. We were just sitting down to coffee a few minutes later when a small herd of zebra appeared from the bush and trotted through to the adjacent watering hole. Linus, our guide, told us that zebras have a unique pattern of stripes on their backs, similar to the human fingerprint, so that they can be individually identified and tracked. Families can also be traced through this system. In one area of Africa - I don’t know where, but certainly not here - a cull of zebra’s is being discussed. Trackers are engaged in a long term project, identifying the individual animals and their family grouping, the idea being that when it comes to the cull they can make sure they take whole family groups out, and thereby avoid causing distress to many different groups by removing individuals from each one.
Unfortunately I came down at lunch time with a violent stomach upset, so missed the safari of the premises usually given to new volunteers that took place this afternoon. I don’t know what caused it, but I slept all afternoon and was fine again by tea time. An early night was longed for though, so that’s what I’m having.
I have just spotted this though, and am very proud because its my photo! Take a look:
http://www.lilongwewildlife.org/wp-content/uploads/OAT_enclosure_report_0716.pdf
Kuti is a
wildlife reserve, and is related to the wildlife sanctuary I have been staying
at in Lilongwe. For many years the site was a government run cattle ranch, but
was purchased for use as a hunting reserve in the 1990s with the support of the
Danish Hunters Association. In
2009 hunting was prohibited. To generate finances for the site the north
section was leased out as a cattle ranch. Much of the tourism infrastructure
was built at this time including Beit chalets, A Frames (one of which I am
currently living in) and Sunset Deck.
 |
| A frame such as like the one wot I'm stayin in |
In 2012 a
new constitution was drawn up based on that of the Lilongwe Wildlife Centre (LWC)
removing any reference to hunting and thus allowing the organisations to work
together. In June 2012, the
overall management of the project was officially taken over by Kate and Jonny,
the directors of the LWC. Kuti remains an
independent venture but works alongside LWC, to take the work of conservation
and wildlife protection forward and ensure financial sustainability.
 |
| Map of Kuti |
Its mission
statement is as follows:
“To protect Kuti Wildlife Reserve for future
generations, work in partnership with local communities to promote sustainable
livelihoods & environmental conservation, and maintain project operations
through responsible tourism”
Kuti aims to protect wildlife and support
local communities; to become a well-respected organisation recognised for its
work in the Salima District generating economic activity whilst working
together with the local communities and conserving an important natural
heritage site for future generations.
This is possible through the development
of Kuti as a key tourism destination, thus providing revenue to ensure long
term financial sustainability and protection of the reserve, and through
partnerships with other not-for-profit organisations.
Maintaining financial sustainability is
key to the long-term success of the park.
The major revenue streams are:
-
Tourism: Gate
entry, accommodation, food & beverages, activities
-
Volunteers: Groups and individuals, in-country and
international
In addition, a non-profit programme of
activities covers the following areas:
-
Wildlife &
habitat conservation
-
Environmental
education
-
Community
outreach: Community development, environmental restoration & sustainable
livelihoods
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| An A frame tourist chalet and some nosy animals |
 |
| The inside of the A frame before I moved in and made it more 'homely' |
Recently an education centre was constructed and is used by local schools for teaching on land and wildlife conservation. A tourist centre/shop is being built and will sell high end products from Africa such as Tribal Textiles (which Yanni and I visited on the way back from South Luanga National Park), and pottery (probably from Dedsa, which Yanni and I visited a couple of weeks ago). Another shop is planned for sales of meat, chicken and eggs from local farmers. The site is also considering offering tuition in classes tourists may enjoy, such as making/decorating textiles/clay pots, and perhaps also classes for locals in basic literacy, spoken English and maths. Management are engaged in discussion around repopulating the reserve with a variety of animals including those requiring rehabilitation or some other form of support, for both tourism and conservation purposes. They are also considering bringing horses back so that tourists can view the wildlife on horseback instead of on jeep, as at present.
So you can see that this is a little site with a lot of potential. There is a small herd of zebra, an ostrich, a camel and a giraffe, plus large numbers of different varieties of antelope. The camel and giraffe are particularly as the giraffe was born here 3 years ago, shortly after which her parents died. The giraffe attached itself to the camel - given that it probably doesn't remember its parents it may not be able to identify as a giraffe, it certainly doesn't behave like one.
The grounds are extensive with grassland savannah, woodland savannah and wetlands, each area harbouring different animals best suited to thrive there.
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| Reception, dining area, living room |
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| View from above building |
Today was my first day at the reserve. We began with an 0800 walk and survey of the Immediate grounds. This took almost 2 hours, and we identified quite a bit of local wildlife, all of whom were dutifully noted by yours truly on a spreadsheet. Zebra, baboon and antelope tracks were too numerous to be listed, so we only wrote down the animals we saw. We saw several types of antelope - duiker, impala, newbuck and a few others. We also came across a very odd pair, a 3 year old giraffe and a 7 year old camel. I didn’t manage to get a photo of them but will try to add one later on in this blog. The giraffe was born here, but her mother died. Bereft of company, she naturally quickly became unable to ascertain what species she was. When she met the reserve’s only remaining camel, they teamed up. They are an odd sight the two of them, pootering around together, rather touching somehow. It is hoped that the site will be able to restock some animals before too long.We touched on the topic of snakes, which are known to live here but seldom seen. A medium sized black mamba was discovered behind a crate in the kitchen some months ago. The cook, who was unable to get out of the kitchen because the snake was between him and the door, started yelling and throwing potatoes at it. This turned out not to be a good way to get a black mamba to go away. It raised its hood, and appeared to be preparing to spit - they can spit deadly venom over 30 feet when they have a mind. Another local staff member began urgently advising him through a window, and suggested he take a stick (a mop handle was identified), and very gently poke the snake with this. The idea was that the snake would not feel threatened but just discomforted, and so choose to leave an environment swiftly becoming too noisy for comfort. The terrified cook took hold of the mop, but instead of a gentle poke he almost eviscerated the mamba, at which point it fortunately slithered out of the door and away. It’s very surprising it didn’t spit at him. I’m glad he didn’t though, because my dinner was very enjoyable this evening and I don’t think local wildlife should be allowed to deprive me of such few comforts as I am able to seek out and enjoy here.
When we returned to base we found a very large ostrich browsing beside the dining area - I have been told she sometimes tries to come in, but fortunately is unable to manage the steps. She seemed unafraid of humans. Again, she is the only one of her species left on site, so it is very likely she does not identify as, or know how to behave like, an ostrich. We were just sitting down to coffee a few minutes later when a small herd of zebra appeared from the bush and trotted through to the adjacent watering hole. Linus, our guide, told us that zebras have a unique pattern of stripes on their backs, similar to the human fingerprint, so that they can be individually identified and tracked. Families can also be traced through this system. In one area of Africa - I don’t know where, but certainly not here - a cull of zebra’s is being discussed. Trackers are engaged in a long term project, identifying the individual animals and their family grouping, the idea being that when it comes to the cull they can make sure they take whole family groups out, and thereby avoid causing distress to many different groups by removing individuals from each one.
Unfortunately I came down at lunch time with a violent stomach upset, so missed the safari of the premises usually given to new volunteers that took place this afternoon. I don’t know what caused it, but I slept all afternoon and was fine again by tea time. An early night was longed for though, so that’s what I’m having.
I have just spotted this though, and am very proud because its my photo! Take a look:
http://www.lilongwewildlife.org/wp-content/uploads/OAT_enclosure_report_0716.pdf
Tuesday 5 July
Today was mostly spent travelling to Kuti, which is an animal sanctuary linked to Lilongwe. Being further out into the bush, the site has more and larger animals, and a wider range of the smaller wildlife.
The journey to Kuti was pretty awful, as we went on the white mini van that is standard transport in Malawi. I think its a 9 seater (3 in the front, and two rows of 3 in the back), but needless to say it is required to carry far more than 9 people. Small children, animals, sacks of produce, baskets of chickens and so on don’t count, of course. Little flaps pull down from sides all over, so that in all we had 18 people (15 adults + 3 small children on knees or in back slings), a basket of chickens, 1 sack of corn, 1 sack of maize, half a sack of pumpkins, half a sack of textiles (chitenje’s, bed linen etc) and other general paraphernalia. A van will only go once its full, so its possible to sit for hours in the back of a stuffed to bursting van because the drivers still have ‘1 free place’. And once you have not so much as climbed aboard but have been shoehorned into a tiny seat in the van, and bags of produce loaded, you can’t get out. You sit and boil while everyone waits patiently, as naturally there is no air conditioning. I read a newspaper article recently which described the journey for one annoyed passenger who had to wait 9 hours for the van to start the journey! Travelling by any form of public transport in Africa is pretty uncomfortable.
Once we arrived we were picked up by the reserve’s truck, a 5 seater with an flat bed section behind. Originally we were going to be picked up after the reserve had done it’s shopping, and I could see the vehicle was more than full so that 1 person was already riding outside when we arrived. Then they announced they had been delayed and were on their way in to the shops! To my disbelief, we spent 3 hours in the sun parking in one desolate marked place after another picking up bunches of diseased looking bananas and occasional bags of produce from the ‘msungu’ shops. By the end the van looked as comical as some of the bicycles (photos) carrying impossible loads that wobble around the roads. It was a huge relief to get to the reserve, find our thatched A frame and lie down for a while.
The cabin has four beds (photos) and a table with 4 chairs. I am sharing with a lovely girl, Katy, who is from America. Her father is in the diplomatic community and so is shunted around the world regularly. Katy soon became fed up with the moves, the loss of friends, the new languages, the new schools, and chose to opt out of this life style many years ago and has been living at a boarding school ever since. She is visiting her parents for a few weeks, and decided to spend a little time viewing Malawi from a different perspective. She has been at the reserve for 2 days and seems very happy here.
A car load of guests arrived just before dinner at 1800, and turned out to be a family of 4 with twin girls aged 4 years. Richard and Helen were from Oxford and were touring Malawi partly because Helen worked in Malawi years ago. We had a lovely meal and I was delighted to hit bed about 2200 after a little quiet time on the internet.
Today was mostly spent travelling to Kuti, which is an animal sanctuary linked to Lilongwe. Being further out into the bush, the site has more and larger animals, and a wider range of the smaller wildlife.
The journey to Kuti was pretty awful, as we went on the white mini van that is standard transport in Malawi. I think its a 9 seater (3 in the front, and two rows of 3 in the back), but needless to say it is required to carry far more than 9 people. Small children, animals, sacks of produce, baskets of chickens and so on don’t count, of course. Little flaps pull down from sides all over, so that in all we had 18 people (15 adults + 3 small children on knees or in back slings), a basket of chickens, 1 sack of corn, 1 sack of maize, half a sack of pumpkins, half a sack of textiles (chitenje’s, bed linen etc) and other general paraphernalia. A van will only go once its full, so its possible to sit for hours in the back of a stuffed to bursting van because the drivers still have ‘1 free place’. And once you have not so much as climbed aboard but have been shoehorned into a tiny seat in the van, and bags of produce loaded, you can’t get out. You sit and boil while everyone waits patiently, as naturally there is no air conditioning. I read a newspaper article recently which described the journey for one annoyed passenger who had to wait 9 hours for the van to start the journey! Travelling by any form of public transport in Africa is pretty uncomfortable.
Once we arrived we were picked up by the reserve’s truck, a 5 seater with an flat bed section behind. Originally we were going to be picked up after the reserve had done it’s shopping, and I could see the vehicle was more than full so that 1 person was already riding outside when we arrived. Then they announced they had been delayed and were on their way in to the shops! To my disbelief, we spent 3 hours in the sun parking in one desolate marked place after another picking up bunches of diseased looking bananas and occasional bags of produce from the ‘msungu’ shops. By the end the van looked as comical as some of the bicycles (photos) carrying impossible loads that wobble around the roads. It was a huge relief to get to the reserve, find our thatched A frame and lie down for a while.
The cabin has four beds (photos) and a table with 4 chairs. I am sharing with a lovely girl, Katy, who is from America. Her father is in the diplomatic community and so is shunted around the world regularly. Katy soon became fed up with the moves, the loss of friends, the new languages, the new schools, and chose to opt out of this life style many years ago and has been living at a boarding school ever since. She is visiting her parents for a few weeks, and decided to spend a little time viewing Malawi from a different perspective. She has been at the reserve for 2 days and seems very happy here.
A car load of guests arrived just before dinner at 1800, and turned out to be a family of 4 with twin girls aged 4 years. Richard and Helen were from Oxford and were touring Malawi partly because Helen worked in Malawi years ago. We had a lovely meal and I was delighted to hit bed about 2200 after a little quiet time on the internet.
Tuesday, 5 July 2016
Monday 4 July
I spent the day packing up for my move tomorrow to Kuti, and preparing to skype in to the funeral of my very good friend Jim Stewart, from Dundee University. I heard Jim was ill about 2 weeks ago, and considered flying back to Scotland to spend some time with him. The news was so bad though that it seemed unlikely I would be in time to see him before he became incapacitated. Jim visited Arie on Ward 32 at Ninewells Hospital about a week before he died. And by the time I heard what had happened to Jim - his sudden collapse, the catastrophic diagnosis - it was too late. By then Jim was already on Ward 32 himself. He was transferred to a hospice in Dundee, and died last week.
This is a piece I wrote the morning I woke up feeling sure he had just died:
Sorry if these seems a bit morose and so on, but Jim was such a lovely man and an extraordinarily good friend. I keep telling myself the same as I keep telling myself about Arie - I was so lucky to have him in my life, I'm an infinitely better person for his company, his companionship, his loving acceptance. So much to be grateful for.
So which one of you lucky beggers is gonna be next?
I spent the day packing up for my move tomorrow to Kuti, and preparing to skype in to the funeral of my very good friend Jim Stewart, from Dundee University. I heard Jim was ill about 2 weeks ago, and considered flying back to Scotland to spend some time with him. The news was so bad though that it seemed unlikely I would be in time to see him before he became incapacitated. Jim visited Arie on Ward 32 at Ninewells Hospital about a week before he died. And by the time I heard what had happened to Jim - his sudden collapse, the catastrophic diagnosis - it was too late. By then Jim was already on Ward 32 himself. He was transferred to a hospice in Dundee, and died last week.
This is a piece I wrote the morning I woke up feeling sure he had just died:
Dear Jim, I am in Malawi. It is 7.30 a.m. and I have just woken up. I suspect you died last night.
Unable to get through to Eddie – the African bush is not
known for rapid internet services – I can’t know for sure. And I have to leave my computer now to go and
monitor a lion – my task for this morning.
I pick up the lion’s paperwork then reach for some note paper so I can
write you this letter, which you will never read. Then hesitate. Paper is very scarce around here, so I can’t
just take a notepad. How many sheets of
paper should I take? One piece? No, I won’t
be able to say much on one piece. Three pieces? After fourteen years of
friendship and so much more, can three pieces of notepaper be enough to tell
you how much you have meant to me? Five
pieces? Fifty? But this is not possible,
more than three and the office staff would go into meltdown. I guiltily snatch up three pieces and hurry
up the red dust road.
Within minutes I am approaching the large forest enclosure
that is the home of our lion, whose journey in life has never been easy, and
whose arrival at this Sanctuary signalled the start of true freedom and
happiness. The sun is beating down steadily so that,
within seconds, my skin starts to prickle, and a bead of sweat forms and runs
down my back. There is the smell of smoke in the air, some dry grasses having
been burnt earlier.
Chachikulu (Cha-Chi-Ku-Lu, meaning great), our amazing male
lion, with his highly intelligent and penetrating eyes, terrifying roar,
marvellous main, and rippling muscles, is lying on his back in the sun like a
kitten, three paws waving occasionally in the air while he chews intermittently
on the fourth. He flicks his tail lazily at the odd fly. You can almost hear him purr. Monkeys
chatter. Cicadas chirp. Baboons peer coyly through the leaves. All around us are the sounds of the wild. And
here, it’s just one more stunningly beautiful day in Malawi.
I begin to monitor Chachikulu and complete the paperwork. Then I pull out my three blank pieces of
paper, and look at them doubtfully. I
try to think about you being dead, but my mind, ever inclined to side step
anything unpleasant, refuses to cooperate.
Suddenly I’m thinking about Brexit. I heard this morning that England has voted to
leave the EU. That the English pound has immediately fallen to pre 2008 levels.
That in the last six hours we have lost trillions of pounds on critical
financial markets. That the housing market is expected to plummet. It sounds as if the UK been thrown into total
disarray. I don’t seem able to
care. My mind is fully occupied with another
untimely exit that seems much more real and important to me.
My gaze returns to the scene in front of me. How rich and colourful
the forest is, the red dust framing an abundance of multi coloured bushes and grasses,
ferns and trees. While I have been preoccupied, Chachikulu’s doze has descended
into a profound sleep, so that he is now utterly still. He dreams of his beloved homeland, no doubt,
as tens of thousands of lions have done before him, soothed by the sun and
breezes, and the calls of the wild.
I tell myself that you will soon lie in earth as rich as
this, covered by colours as delightful as these. Trees and bushes will in time take their
strength from you, just as those of us who have been fortunate enough to know
you have taken strength from you for many years past. And will continue to do so, drawing on our
memories of you, for many years to come.
Not just the knowledge that you have imparted - not ‘just’ Shakespeare
and Aristotle, Woolf and Woolstonecroft. I was anxious, worried when I met you.
You showed me how to be calm, how to listen, how to think, how to be.
As you undergo your own personal exit, my heart and spirit
instinctively reaches out to stop you leaving – and I know in this, I am not
alone. There are many of us dedicated to the idea of you continuing to be in our
lives. Forever! No Jexits allowed!
But knowing your journey is already under way, and that
there was never any stopping it, we come
instead to offer you our small,
insufficient thanks, gratitude, and love. You have heard the call of the wild,
and you have gone. And though we cannot
follow you there at this time, our love will always be with you.
Sunday 3 July 2016
Today Yanni and I went snorkling in Cape Macclear, which was beautiful. I will never, ever again believe anyone who tells me that ‘the water is lovely and warm’, I am in Africa and its well known its ALWAYS really hot here, but what do you know, the water was freezing. I was only able to get in because of my extraordinary self discipline and great courage, but it was still dreadful. And I nearly slipped on weeds. Truly terrible.
I don’t have a copy of footage taken with the GoPro, but here are images of some of the fish we saw. They were really beautifully, so bright and quick in the water.
And here are some images of Cape Macclear as we enjoy our sunset cruise
If you don't like the way I've played with filters you don't have to look at them - but I think they're lovely!
I was struck by this photo. It reminds me of the song we played at Arie's funeral:
Refrain
Today Yanni and I went snorkling in Cape Macclear, which was beautiful. I will never, ever again believe anyone who tells me that ‘the water is lovely and warm’, I am in Africa and its well known its ALWAYS really hot here, but what do you know, the water was freezing. I was only able to get in because of my extraordinary self discipline and great courage, but it was still dreadful. And I nearly slipped on weeds. Truly terrible.
I don’t have a copy of footage taken with the GoPro, but here are images of some of the fish we saw. They were really beautifully, so bright and quick in the water.
And here are some images of Cape Macclear as we enjoy our sunset cruise
 |
| Caroline and Ayinka on our catamaran on the way out to our sunset cruise |
 |
| Missy in the boat |
 |
| Sun obligingly setting |
 |
| Missy grinning |
 |
| Flooded with light as the sun goes down |
If you don't like the way I've played with filters you don't have to look at them - but I think they're lovely!
I was struck by this photo. It reminds me of the song we played at Arie's funeral:
These are the words, badly translated, but I can'get seem to get them any better, The song is called
Haven i Zicht - Harbour in sight:
You let go of my
hand
and your gaze fall to the floor
and your gaze fall to the floor
You cannot speak
or stand
and you can hope
no more
I wish I could carry you
but I too have lost all fight
I wish I could carry you
but I too have lost all fight
For your eyes
are no longer blue
but have grown dark
with the night
Refrain
And suddenly it’s
over, no more time to bide
No storm in a tea cup but dangerous weather
The anchor is lifted and your drawn away with the tide
No storm in a tea cup but dangerous weather
The anchor is lifted and your drawn away with the tide
Till the harbor’s
no longer in sight
Suddenly a
hurricane rips across
the open sea
You're tossed like a child’s ball
You're tossed like a child’s ball
pitched over the
waves
I try to reach and save you
I try to reach and save you
But the sea is so
much stronger
And I see you dragged away
Like a ship in the night
And I see you dragged away
Like a ship in the night
1 year, 2 months, 2 weeks. Hardly seems possible. Arie would have enjoyed this place though, particularly as ever meal featured fish, fish, and a lot more fish! He would have enjoyed looking at them, but enjoyed eating them a lot more!
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