Getting up early in the morning, I made my way to the hectic bus station, walking past locals carrying all sorts of bags and produce and finding my way onto a crowded bus with the front seat piled to the ceiling with bags, buckets and even a children's bicycle. Fortunately, I was able to get a seat to myself, so the ride wasn't as bad as it could have been. We made our way out of Blantyre and soon reached the sister town of Limbe, finding another bus station amidst a bit of a shantytown with tiny mud or cement walled huts adjacent to each other, with just narrow alleys between and tin or thatched roofs above. As you might picture, there were various trash piles at the ends of the small enclave, some having been burnt, some just waiting to be. The crowded parking lot/bus station was soon engulfed in vendors tapping on bus windows trying to sell soft drinks, water, bread, bananas, belts, small toys and a few other things. Moving out of town, we got into a more deserted stretch, mostly lined with some dry vegetation and trees, topped by the occasional rock outcrop that is typical of this area, standing high on the horizon in most directions. We stopped at a few of the common roadblocks, with police surveying the scene and letting us pass. Lulling in and out of sleep thanks to the rhythmic motion of the bouncing bus and the cacophony of noise in terms of the creaking of the vehicle and the talking, singing and shouting of the passengers around me all melding into a sort of white noise around me, I was soon enough at Liwonde town.
From the tiny town center (mostly just a crossroads), I would have to find my own transport to the national park. Fortunately, this wasn't hard to find, as I was assailed with local teenage boys as I got off the bus, all yelling and shouting that they'd take me on bike taxi to the park (apparently the only reason why foreigners come to the town). Knowing this was my only option, I bargained my price and was soon on the back of a small bicycle, hanging on to a wrought iron bar constructed on the back of the boy's seat, along with a padded seat attached to the back fender. It was a nice setup, but with my heavy backpack weighing me down and sort of pulling me off the bike, the ride was rather uncomfortable. As bad as it was for me, it was obviously that much harder for the driver, having to pedal up and down a few small hills on this soft dirt road, with the wheels of the bike starting to sink in to the dust. After about 20 long minutes, we finally made it to the park entrance where I was told that the lodge I was looking for had closed down earlier that month. The boy had also mentioned that he didn't think it was open, though I thought he was just trying to get me to stay at a different place to get a bit of commission. So, we backtracked a little and headed down a side road towards the one lodging option near the park. This turned out to be an even longer dirt road, lined with sparse vegetation and a few massive baobab trees, the bulbous, behemoth tree that is described as looking like it was turned upside down with the roots on top. Most of the year the trees are barren, so this is a pretty accurate description of the trees that typify Southern Africa. The poor bicycle taxi driver struggled through more dusty patches, asking for a bit more money given that we had to go further than expected. I also decided to give him and myself a break from the uncomfortable ride, and we walked alongside the bike for a little while in the harder stretches. Hoping each hut in the distance was the lodge, we finally came upon the place after a long, dusty trip. We had been warned by locals about a herd of nearby elephants, and when I arrived at the lodge, I was told that I missed a herd of about 20 elephants passing right through camp about 45 minutes before I got there. I also realized that I was very lucky in that the lodge had just opened for business four days earlier, operating with some of the same owners as the previous place. The place was still a work in progress with holes, stacks of bricks and thatching everywhere, but the setting among four or five huge baobab trees made up for the slightly unkempt appearance.
Most of my first day was fairly uneventful, just hanging out in the isolated camp, enjoying the solitude and true African scenery. The night was even quite cold, which was a nice change from the heat and humidity of Atlanta that I left behind. The night groaned with the noises of the surrounding wilderness, particularly the grunts of the loud hippos situated just about 50 yards outside our campsite. There were also large tracts of footprints from herds of elephants and hippos dried into the mud, proving that there were some quite large animals close by. First thing in the morning, I woke to find a few of the workers staring off into the distance, pointing out a herd of elephants near the edge of camp. With my first large animal sighting, the owner of the lodge put it well when he said, "Welcome to Africa." Soon after, a group of young British students and I piled into two open Land Rovers (basically Land Rovers that had the doors and roof removed to convert them to open sided convertibles) and hit the dirt road for a safari drive through the park. Just seconds into the drive, we had our most impressive sighting, coming upon the large herd of approximately 20 elephants, slowly crossing the road on their way to forage for food. Our two cars had to stay a safe distance away as well as leaving ourselves an escape route if the elephants should charge, though we were still within about 25 yards of the massive creatures. Soon enough, the elephants went on their way, and we stared in awe as the pack made its way into the brush. The rest of the drive was a scenic jaunt through the park, passing through ancient baobabs and dry foliage, interspersed with a few palm trees near the shore of the Shire River running through the edge of the park. Along the way, we spotted vervet monkeys (grey monkeys with black faces), yellow baboons, impala, kudu (a type of antelope with large horns), a few warthogs and even another herd of elephants making its way to the water. All in all, it was quite a successful introduction to African safaris.
The second half of the day had me joining a local villager on a tiny plastic canoe along the swampy shore of the marsh just outside of the river. The friendly old man pushed our way through the tall grass and weeds, using a long wooden pole to push off against the muddy bottom just a few feet below in some cases. Recalling a fact I've heard about hippos killing more people in Africa than crocodiles, I was anxious to see the hippos that we were searching for, though I was quite nervous in the beginning. Hearing the loud grunts from a long ways away, you could tell that they were in the area, though I just hoped they wouldn't pop up from underneath the thick water grass and hyacinths right around our boat. Soon enough, I calmed my nerves and enjoyed the peacefulness of the marsh, trusting that the guide knew what he was doing. Finally opening into the wide river, we saw the groups of hippos wading and floating near the banks of the river, some munching away on the vegetation while others kept a watchful eye on us, audibilizing their discontent with the intruders into their waterway. Fortunately, we stayed a safe distance back and had no hippo attacks to report, simply watching the huge beast float easily through the water and chomp on the floating buffet in which they live. Hippos have always fascinated me (and Craig even moreso), so it was amazing to see them in their natural habitat. Moving along the scenic river banks, we came to a few palm studded groves where we saw a few more monkeys and kudu, though I was mostly interested in seeing more of the hippos on the way back.
Heading back to camp, we had another cold night, and I quietly observed the drama that goes along with running a wilderness lodge. Managers and guests argued over tours, tents that weren't ready, reserved rooms that never existed and more frustrating travel situations. There was even an obnoxious South African tourist that dropped off two hitchhikers in the lodge and then proceeded to berate any of the workers or managers that would listen to him, going on and on about how terrible the place was, that it shouldn't be open yet (as it wasn't quite running properly yet), and how he and others should just take their precious money to Botswana and that this was a disgrace to Africa. Fortunately, I had no problems with the lodge, and the South African couple that ran the place were quite nice and pleasant to talk to, when they had a moment to escape some of their more demanding guests. Reading through my guidebook, I found that there was a local village nearby with a homestay in an authentic hut and a chance to observe and participate in everyday Malawian village life. Though it sounded like a wonderful opportunity, I also found that the group of British student (aged 16-19) were heading to Cape Maclear on Lake Malawi next, and I was heading to the same spot, so I decided I couldn't pass up the opportunity to hitch a ride with them, saving me a lot of trouble in connections and having to take another painful bike taxi back into town.
(Liwonde National Park is known for its hippos and elephants, and it certainly didn't disappoint. This was the view three minutes into our first safari drive.)
(The elephants kept a wary eye on us as they passed over the dirt road just outside of our camp.)
(Some of the nice, varied scenery of Liwonde National Park - a mixture of dry trees, palms and baobabs. All that and a hippo-filled river nearby; not too bad.)
(In the afternoon, I hopped in a tiny canoe with a local villager who used a long wooden pole to push us through the mud and marsh in search of hippos. I was fairly scared that we'd find one way too close to our canoe, but it turns out they are so loud that it's easy enough to know where they are...usually...)
(The view from the Shire River (pronounced Sheer-ay) back towards the park, just minutes after seeing a few groups of hippos grunting at us.)
(When in the water, hippos usually aren't too dangerous, but this display was a hint that we probably shouldn't get much closer.)
(A close-up of a large group of the massive mammals lounging in the river. As you can see, they were keeping their eyes on us, not letting us get closer than about 25-30 yards away, which was certainly close enough for me, given the stories about them killing more people than crocodiles in Africa every year.)
(Two of the larger ones hanging out in the grass, chomping away in between glances up at us in the canoe.)
(Although this looks a little scary, I think he was just taking a huge bite, though it could have also been designed to scare us away AND provide food - killing two birds with one stone. Hippos are so productive.)
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