Lilongwe, Malawi and Lusaka, Zambia - Unexciting Capitals

Aug 11 - 14, 2010
Not many people come to Africa to see the large cities or capitals, so it's no surprise the Lilongwe, Malawi's capital, doesn't feature many sights or attractions for most visitors. I was simply passing through on the way further South, stopping for a day or two to make arrangements for the next part of my trip. Arriving on the bus from Kasungu, I found a spread out city with a few centers of development separated by small neighborhoods and some remaining patches of dry forest. The large bus station is another open air lot near the center of the city, filled with taxi drivers trying to catch people coming off the buses and looking for a quick ride. I opted to walk, wondering if I'd find anything interesting in the city. The paved road was lined with somewhat larger, though just as generic, concrete shops with clothing, merchandise and a few Chinese import shops (one of which proved perfect for me to replace my tiny umbrella that had apparently fallen out of my bag on the bus ride back from Chitimba). Not finding much to catch my eye, I crossed over a small river running through the middle of the city, flanked by some wooden huts and a small shantytown, before heading up the other main road to find my hostel for the next day or two. I had only intended on spending one night in the capital, though it turns out that there were no buses leaving for Zambia the next day, so I realized that I'd be staying an extra day.

Like most big cities in Africa, the capital of around 900,000 people is viewed as more dangerous and crime-ridden than the countryside, though Malawi is a fairly safe destination, so I wasn't too worried. I hadn't heard any horror stories of the place, and it seemed safe enough to me, though I didn't really try my luck walking out on the dark streets at night. My two highlights of the city were both centered around my hostel. The first was a great little restaurant with a mix of local, Indian and Middle Eastern food called Ali Baba with huge portions and cheap prices. The second was the wonderful showers of Mustafa Lodge, a sort of futuristic looking spigot spraying out refreshing hot water into the clean showers, particularly appreciated after going without showers for the past four days or so while being in the local village and then at my horrible hotel in Kasungu. I also took the chance to do laundry and a few other simple things that aren't always easy when you're on the road every day. While in the capital, I also heard about a huge measles epidemic sweeping the country, causing 80 or 90 deaths in the month of June alone; it's always interesting how far removed you can get from news when on the road, especially travelling through small villages with no television or internet access.

Two mornings later, I woke up before the sun rise, walked back across the city to the bus station and got on a larger, more comfortable bus for my trip over to Lusaka, the capital of Zambia. Our ride started off fine, consisting of a few other Western travellers and some local Malawians and Zambians. Within an hour or two, we were at the Western border of Malawi, ready to cross over to Zambia. We all exited the bus, passed through the immigration post and walked the short stretch over to the Zambian post. I also did my best to bargain with the moneychangers who troll this area, looking to change money at horrible rates for those leaving either of the countries. Luckily I only had about $40 to change from Malawian kwacha to Zambian kwacha, so I resigned myself to just accept the fact that I'd lose a few dollars on the transaction. (I had tried to change my last bit of local money in the banks in Lilongwe, but they don't often carry Zambian currency for some reason.)

After changing money, I chatted with a few locals and even another American from the bus who had been touring the continent looking for business opportunities after getting his MBA. Though all the passengers seemed to be ready to go, the bus was taking a long time to get through the checkpoint, leaving us to stand out in the cold, windy morning. For some reason, a cold front was passing up from Mozambique, and with the wind chill, the temperature was pretty close to freezing, and I was certainly unprepared for that weather. Finally, after nearly four hours of waiting on and off the bus, all the goods were cleared, and we made our way into Zambia. The countryside seemed to gradually get a little more dense and hilly, and it was noticeably less populated here, not seeing as many small village huts strung out along the roadside. We stopped a few places to pick up more passengers, eventually filling the aisles even though the ticket agent had promised me that that would not be the case. Then after another quick restroom and snack stop at a tiny little hut, we got pulled over by the police who also didn't like the fact that passengers were lining the aisle, so we sat for another half hour as our driver was ticketed for this infraction. The whole time I was stuck in my window seat, trying to ignore the little girl next to me who was singing, kicking, yelling out everything she saw through the window and moving around the entire ride. Her grandmother was nice enough, but by the end of the ride, I was ready to get a little peace and quiet. Just as dusk was setting in, we came to our last stop near South Luangwa National Park, a beautiful area of wooded hills and a river valley that is renowned for walking safaris among lions, leopards and other wildlife. Unfortunately I wouldn't have time to stop there, so we continued on and arrived in Lusaka around 9:30 that night, four and a half hours later than expected.

It's never fun arriving in a new bus station in a big city with which you're not familiar, particularly in the dark of a late night. These tend to be some of the more dangerous and sketchy places in a city, so I was anxious to get a bit of information for my bus ride the next day and get out of there, noting about fifty people sleeping on the concrete floor of the partially covered station. Finding the information booths closed, I saw a few schedules posted on the walls, got some times in my head, and then I headed off, joining up with a few other travellers from Canada, Holland and the US to share a taxi. We made a quick stop at one of the few places still open at that time of night, Chicken Inn. Chicken Inn, along with Pizza Inn and a few others called something like Bakery Inn and Creamery Inn, is simply a fast food chain in the country, so it was simple enough, and we persuaded the driver to stop with a meal of his own. I then checked into a small hostel nearby, hoping to go straight to bed to be ready for an early start.

Just before going to bed, the other American traveller and I met a huge local Zambian staying at the place, and we started to have a chat about what he did in the area. The large man finished his heaping plate of chicken and rice and proceeded to tell us all about his copper and manganese mines in the center of the country, as well as some interesting and incredibly profitable businesses he runs supplying food and other materials to some isolated diamond mines and camps in bordering Congo. The friendly man discussed business and politics, explaining the history of Zambian copper mining and some horrible exploitation and profiting that has gone on there, as well as questioning us about our opinions on his country and our own. Soon enough, this chat turned into a two hour talk. It was really, really interesting to hear his perspectives, though I knew I'd be tired after only four hours of sleep the next day. I got up early and found a taxi back to the bus station, this time more crowded than the night before. People were lined up and pushing their way to the front, particularly at the kiosk for the bus company that I had heard was the most comfortable, safe and efficient. A few walked away in anger as I heard things being said about the three buses for the morning being all sold out, though when I got to the front, there was a little bit of discussion between the clerks, and I was given a ticket for the 6:30 am departure (just 10 minutes from then), so I grabbed my ticket and hopped on the bus, seeing that I was able to get the last single seat, with a perfect position behind the driver and next to one of the workers.

The bus sped along, making a few break stops, way more efficient and comfortable than most of my modes of transportation up to that point. Somehow we even arrived an hour early to Livingstone, the Zambian gateway to my next stop, Victoria Falls. Waking up from a quick nap to calls of taxi drivers who had spotted the dazed white guy in the front seat (me), I heard people saying "Wake up friend, I'll give you a ride." So I gathered my bags and headed off down the road in the hot midday sun, making my way to two of the hostels before settling on a place. Victoria Falls is one of the key attractions in Southern and perhaps all of Africa, so I was sure there would be no shortage of places to stay, restaurants and things to do.

(A view of the fairly nondescript shops along one of the main roads of the Malawian capital, Lilongwe. Knowing there wouldn't be much to see there, I just passed through for a couple of days before taking a bus over to Lusaka, Zambia and then on down to Livingstone, the site of Victoria Falls.)

(One of my highlights of Lilongwe - a wonderful spicy chicken dish with some Indian flavors at a place just around the corner from my hostel.)