Chintheche - Hidden Gem of Lake Malawi

Aug 4 - 5, 2010
Moving on to Chintheche from Cape Maclear, I had a perfect storm of bus connections, allowing me to travel a relatively long way (using public transport), but it wasn't all rosy. As perfect as those connections were, the bus rides themselves were less than ideal. Granted they did allow me to get further than I expected that day, it wasn't pleasant. The seats in the bus are already cramped, and the luggage is generally just piled up as high as it can go in the first seat or two. In addition to that, other boxes are crammed into any available spot of legroom, along with a sardined row of people lining the aisle, pushing further and further into each other as the bus continued to stop for almost everyone along the side of the road. Every time you'd feel that the bus was completely full, and then you'd see that you can always add one more. Even better, some of the passengers carried live chickens in their luggage, usually a box or plastic bag with a small opening for the chicken's head, staring at the other passengers. At one point, I thought a child was screaming, but it turned out to be one of the chicken's squawking at every passing passenger. I had the joy of standing for this five hour bus segment, being pushed and pulled every time we had to reposition. As if that weren't enough, I also looked over just in time to see the woman in the seat two away from me vomiting all over herself, and it was not just a little bit. After finally depositing her entire lunch on her own dress and the bus floor, she promptly took a piece of clothing out of her suitcase and wiped the vomit from her arms and went on as if nothing had happened. A few more roadblocks and snack stops, and we finally made it up to my next stop, Chintheche. In addition to being excited about the place, I was also just ready to be done with my long, arduous day of bus travel in Malawi (which, by the way, is supposed to be one of the easier places in this part of Africa to travel).

No more than a small spot on most tourist maps, the actual town of Chintheche is basically just a barely paved semi-circle splitting off from the main road, lined with the common dusty walkways, ruts and small shops and markets along the potholed road running for just about a mile. I stopped in for a quick meal at one of the small eateries, trying nsima, one of the local staple foods. The ubiquitous meal is made from some maize flour and water, mixed together into a sort of gooey paste and then steamed to come out sort of like a undercooked tamale in consistency. Though it's not bad, it's also not high on taste, so I was thankful to find some nice chili sauce on the table. Grabbing my bags, I headed back to the main road and just a few minutes down to find a small dirt road leading to the beach and my potential lodge for the night. I passed a few smiling children and simple homesteads before reaching my lodge which turned out to be a really nice place set on a grassy plain overlooking a beautiful beach and Lake Malawi. I ended up getting a whole two bedroom hut and attached bathroom to myself, though I immediately dropped my stuff and headed through the few tall trees to the white sand. Unlike Cape Maclear, the beach here was soft and white, and with the combination of decent sized waves, it truly did look like a scenic spot on any ocean, forgetting that Mozambique would eventually be on the other shore, though out of sight in this widest point of the lake. Besides just having a wonderful beach befitting of almost tropical status, the place was free of tourists. As I wandered along the wide stretch of beach, I passed a few wooden dugout canoes used for fishing, walked through some tall grass leading to another larger beach and came upon just a few locals enjoying the late afternoon sun and hanging a few clothes out to dry. Further still, I came upon the next beach, full of the wooden canoes and fishermen packing up their nets for their evening ventures onto the lake. Thoroughly enjoying the beauty and solitude, I eventually watched the sky grow dark and made my way back to my lodge, excited that I had opted to stop at this somewhat-less visited spot along the lakeside.

Though this Northern part of the lake is less visited, about 40 km South of here is Kande Beach. I'm sure the scenery there would be nice, but after reading how it has become an incredibly popular stop for the overland trucks traveling from Kenya down to Victoria Falls and/or South Africa, I opted to stay away from that spot. As it turns out, there was a huge trance/rave party around the time I was in the area, featuring all night drinking, smoking and pumping music fueling hippies and backpackers alike, so I was glad that I opted for my quiet little gem instead of party central.

In the morning, I simply wandered back out to the beach and chatted with a few young teenagers who gave me a tour of the area and showed me how the fishermen do their work and sell their catch in their makeshift village of reed huts just behind the beach. Again, the Malawians seemed to be very friendly and outgoing, anxious to display their culture and lifestyle to anyone interested enough to make a trip to this area. Soon enough, I had to take one last look at the vast, bright white beach and fishing boats and make my way back up the dirt road into town, ready for my next stop. Though I would have enjoyed staying another day and relaxing, I wanted to continue up the coast, knowing that I didn't have all that much time to see other parts of Malawi. Back in the tiny village, I quickly found a willing minibus driver, taking advantage of the fact that the first person in a minibus gets their pick of seats, so I popped in the front with the driver and waited a few minutes for the rows in the back to fill up and then we were off to Nkhata Bay, only about 40 km North up the coastal road. As is usually the case with these minibuses, a small vehicle is packed full of people, stopping at every corner or hut along the way to pick up another passenger or perhaps drop off some supplies given to them by a friend from a neighboring area. It's fairly typical for the vans to be stripped down to just the metal and a few worn seats in the back, darkened with remnants of random food and packages carried in the strenuous lifetime of the vehicle, often held together with a sliding door that doesn't quite stay on and front doors that can only be opened from the outside thanks to broken inside handles (you can put your arm out the window and open it for yourself). The drivers also like to save gas, so it's common for them to put the car in neutral or even switch it off on a downhill stretch. On this stretch of road, we even ran out of gas at one point, where the driver instructed me to get up, so he could pop up the seat and get to the engine. Once exposed, he casually popped off one of the fuel lines, poured some more gasoline in the tank in the back and then siphoned the gas up the fuel line, spitting some of it back into the engine to give it enough to get started again, wiping his mouth afterwards as if nothing had happened. Then, he just got the van rolling and popped the clutch to get it started, as many of the starters or batteries on these vehicles no longer work, so being able to just start a car this way is much easier.

Luckily, this minibus adventure only lasted an hour or so, passing through the typical light green and brown trees of the country, growing more and more dense as I moved North. The rolling hills grew slightly larger and more lush, even giving way to large groves of huge rubber trees for a little while, though these were obviously planted in nice, neat rows for the local rubber company to cultivate. After another quick roadblock, we headed to the small bay surrounded by two large, fully wooded peninsulas and a small beach in between, revealing the tourist mecca of Nkhata Bay, another spot popular among overland tours or those heading North towards Tanzania.

(A painful moment in the five hours of standing crammed in the aisles of the crowded bus, along with boxes, chickens, and even a vomiting passenger.)

(At one of the roadblocks, people pushing to get back into their spot on the bus, packing an unbelievable amount of people and cargo into the vehicle.)

(Once in Chintheche, I had a typical meal of beef stew on the left, some sort of greens and nsima. Nsima, a staple in this region of Africa, is basically a rather bland plop of corn meal and flour, though calling it corn meal may be a little generous, as that implies a bit of taste. Actually, it's not that bad, but it certainly won't blow you away with bursting flavor.)

(My two bedroom lodge in Chintheche was quite nice, especially given the views in front of it.)

(Moving down the empty beach, I enjoyed the beautiful white sand and fairly large waves, offering the true impression of an ocean.)

(Near the end of the second beach, I found a bunch of fishermen getting ready to go out for the evening.)

(This scenic view was the view stepping out of my lodge, heading down to the quiet, beautiful beach.)

(The wide, white sands were almost completely deserted, and I was certainly the only tourist in the area.)

(More of the heavy wooden dugouts that the local fishermen use to cruise over the choppy water. This is one of the widest parts of the lake, offering no chance to see across the lake to the Mozambican mainland.)

(With the combination of beauty and seclusion, I really had a great time at the picturesque beach of Chintheche.)