The Ilala to Nkhata

Bit of trivia for you: which body of water played host to the first naval battle of WWI?

The answer is Lake Malawi. In 1914, only days after the outbreak of the Great War, the British gunship HMS Guendolin fired her guns on the German vessel Herman von Wesselmann, the former rendering the latter utterly useless.

Nowadays, you won't see anything in the way of European military craft patrolling this massive lake; fishing boats, dhows and the odd barge are much easier spots. However, there does remain one ship that navigates the lake today as often as it did during the colonial days: the Ilala Ferry.

The Ilala carries passengers and cargo on its once-a-week return trip from Monkey Bay in the South to Chitemba in the North. The trip includes 13 stops on both the Malawian and Mozambican shores of the lake. Inasmuch as many of the ports are isolated villages with no road access, the ferry represents the lifeline for many of the lakeshore's inhabitants.

Tickets come in 3 classes. Most tourists and rich locals choose first class, which permits you to stretch out in the pleasant confines of the open-air upper deck. The journey up top is relaxing and peaceful, and includes access to a restaurant and an outdoor bar that sells Kuche Kuche lager for about 75 cents.

But if you dont have the Kwacha for the privilege of climbing the stairs, you can do as the Malawians do and ride economy. It's pretty grim though - the lower deck is a cramped, rat-infested, diesel-choked pileup of human bodies, barnyard animals and sacks of festering cassava. It may be a more authentically African way to travel, but after a few days spent in the bowels of the ship (the whole journey takes 60 hours), you may have dysentery and feel as if you've wound up in a refugee camp. I was more than happy to part with the $60 to ride upstairs.

The Ilala may be slow-going, but it's far less grueling than road travel. Moreover, you have the opportunity to see some very remote villages. Many of the ports are little more than a few huts on a beach, where the baobab trees and lizards outnumber the human population. A few towns, such as Nkhatakata, have Arab-built structures that are leftover from the days of the slave trade.

Each port call is chaotic. Lake Malawi's shores are shallow, and the Ilala cannot dock. Instead, anchor is dropped a few hundred metres out, and people (and animals and luggage and corn and bags of charcoal and sheet metal and logs and and and) are shuttled to-and-fro on life rafts. It's an absolute shambles, but it's a tight operation and is done quickly and efficiently, even if port is reached at 3AM.

For those of us in for the long haul, good times were had. At each stop, we all plummeted from the top deck into the blue waters, a spectacle that seemed to entertain the locals immensely. There was even a filming crew for the show Globetrekkers, which you've probably never heard of since you don't get HBO. I was interviewed on camera. Finally, my big break.

Taking the Ilala was one of the most enjoyable experiences I've had during my time in Africa. I arrived in Nkhata Bay feeling rested and refreshed, which is a significant departure from how I feel after a minibus taxi ride. Example? To reach Monkey Bay from Lilongwe, I had to endure a 9-hour ordeal sitting next to a newborn baby who spent most of its spare time regurgitating freshly-suckled breast milk onto my shorts. Then, during a breakdown, some local village kids stole my water bottle. Rat bastards. I'll take the boat any day.

Zzzzzzambia

The Lonely Planet Southern Africa guidebook describes Zambia as being famous for "excellent fishing". Well I don't know about that, but I can share a few of my experiences from this pleasant, but decidedly dull country.

I entered Zambia after crossing the Zambezi on a ferry from Botswana. It is the shortest international border in the world at only 650m long. It's also a very perilous border, though not insofar as the two nations are warring; the danger is brought on by hippos and crocs who on occasion come to shore and kill people who are sitting about waiting for the boat to depart.

At the immigration control, I paid $55US for the privilege of a 2 week visa. To date this year, I have spent $365US on visas, and there is no end in sight. Of the remaining countries I intend to visit before the end of my African sojourn, none of them offer free entry. $55 seems a tad steep, but it's exactly what Canadians charge Zambians to enter our country. For me, that represents less than two hours of work. For them, it could be weeks' worth of income.

My first stop was Livingstone, a town named after the famed Scottish missionary who is credited with the discovery of nearby Victoria Falls. Livingstone is excellent - it has nightlife, it has amenities, and it has food, the latter being a refreshing change from Zimbabwe. It also has Jollyboys, which was one of the best hostels I've been to in Africa as of yet, though that may have been because there were 20-some Swedish nurses staying there...

What Livingstone does not have at this time of year is much in the way of a waterfall. The long dry season is nearly over but the rains haven't yet begun, and so Vic Falls is running at 10% of its peak output. I'm now very glad that I visited the Zim side in August, when things were still thundering. Nonetheless, a visit to the Zam side in October still pays off, if only because you can walk straight across the nearly dry Zambezi river bed, and have someone take a picture of you with 50% of your body perched precariously over the edge. No need to fear - it's only 108m to the jagged rocks below.

From Livingstone I head to Lusaka. It may be the capital, but Lusaka must be the most uninspiring city I've ever visited, and my list includes Sudbury, Dusseldorf and Newark! Lusaka is little more than a network of dusty streets flanked by rows of graying Soviet-era buildings, interspersed with malodourous and ramshackle shantytowns. A German guy told me that Lusaka is great "if you know people". Well danke for the insight, Klaus, but I'm from the Canadian prairies, and most of the people I'm acquainted with are like characters from Corner Gas, so how is it that I'm expected to have friends in Southern Zambia? After 2 hours spent walking around the city I was suffering from ennui, so I returned to the hostel to endure an entire evening of listening to an Israeli guy regale me with tales of all the girls he's bagged in Africa. I'm sure that most of these strumpets were of the plastic inflatable variety, or perhaps just mere figments of his vivid imagination.

My ultimate Zambian stop was Chipata, a nondescript bordertown from which you can cross into Malawi. I saw little of interest in Chipata save for the sign in the bathroom of my guesthouse that read "Please flash toilet after use". I'd say most people flash it during use! Ohhhh!

It is a shame that while Zambia is a well-to-do country with outstanding people, it has little to offer to backpackers. Many of the principle attractions, such as Lake Kariba and South Luangwa National Park, cater to the affluent package tourist (ex: 5-day excursions to SLNP start at $595US). Zambia is also massive, oddly-shaped and has poor road conditions, which together make for some marathon bus rides. For those with a great deal of cash and their own transport, this may be an ideal destination. As for me, I'll just have to settle for a short visit to see 10% of a waterfall, drink Mosi beer and chat with Swedish nurses.

Querida: tou brincando =)

Cunning Linguists!

As a change of pace, I've decided to make this blog a little more interactive. Here's why:

Night after night, no matter where I am in Africa, there is always a local guy who sees me as his ticket to free liquor. I'll be sitting at a bar or cafe, either alone or with friends, and some dude will approach and tell me that I should buy him a drink.

They don't even ask nicely! It's never "Hello, I couldn't help but notice that you are a handsome and distinguished young man, and I was hoping you'd be so kind as to purchase me an alcoholic beverage so that I may enhance my evening." No. Instead, they'll wander up, put an empty glass on the table in front of me and say "Hey. Buy me a drink. I want whiskey and coke."

Believe it or not (and I'm sure many of you won't) I'm actually polite with these people. I'll often counter with "Sorry, not tonight" or "I really can't help you man" or, if I'm feeling pissy, "Please go away and leave me alone!!!" I actually say PLEASE!

Well I'm tired of saying please. I want to say something else- something that will not only cause them to beat it, but also to make them think twice about asking the next time.

This is where you come in. Put yourself in my shoes... you're having a couple of drinks, and some freeloading tosser informs you of your obligation to buy him some tipple. What do you say?

I invite you to post your retorts as comments affixed to this post. Remember, I can't say anything that is going to get me stabbed, so this should be witty and clever, not malicious. Also remember that my dear mother reads this blog, so if your ideas are unquestionably inappropriate, email them to me.

I open the floor to your suggestions...

Matt, Jacko, Iain, I know you guys have got something good.

So let's have at it, shall we?