Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi: Lichinga - Metangula Par...

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi: Lichinga - Metangula Par...: EP 2007 Hidden away in the remote north eastern corner of Mozambique is Lichinga, the capital of Nyasa Province. In the centre of tow...

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi:Lichinga to Metangula Par...

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi:Lichinga to Metangula Par...: I was at the truck depot a t 6.30am,  because that was when I had been told I would get a place on the truck going to Metangula. It w...

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi: Lichinga - Metangula Par...

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi: Lichinga - Metangula Par...: Finally full to crushing capacity, the truck headed out  of town along a wide dirt road, sided by grass roofed huts and maize  fields ....

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi:Lichinga to Metangula Par...

Rocking the Canoe: Mozambique & Lake Malawi:Lichinga to Metangula Par...: The truck wound its way down from the plateau and stopped to let people relieve themselves and stretch their legs. The still, humid air...

Mozambique & Lake Malawi:Lichinga to Metangula Part 4

The truck wound its way down from the plateau and stopped to let people relieve themselves and stretch their legs. The still, humid air buzzed with flies that descended in clouds around our heads. After a few minutes we were ready to resume the journey, but in spite of repeated attempts the engine wouldn’t start, and some of the men were obliged to jump off and push. The engine ticked over a few times, then petered out again, but on a long downhill stretch the truck picked up speed and, with a sustained push the engine kicked in, but cut out again as the truck slowed down to round a bend. This time we were in a dip, with an uphill climb ahead. Now all the men, including myself jumped out and, dripping with perspiration, pushed the truck up to the top of the hill. And on the way down the other side, with a few splutters the engine shifted into gear.  As we snaked steadily down from the hills, in anticipation of catching a glimpse of the Lake, a frisson of excitement ran through me. It had been a long awaited moment. I had travelled from South Africa, through Swaziland and Mozambique, and just over two years after first having thought of going to Lake Malawi, I was finally almost there. At last a pale blue slither emerged in the distance. But my uphoria was short lived. On the way into Metangula we stopped to let some passengers off, and the truck broke down again. This time it was terminal, so we reconciled ourselves to pushing it the remaining few kilometres. At the town centre the conductor of the truck insisted on carrying my bag and escorting me, first to the harbour, where I discovered that I had just missed the ferry, and then to a place where I could get onward transport by road. There were no facilities for travellers in Metangula, so with a week to wait until the Ilala ferry passed again, I had no choice but to go to Chwanga village beach resort, 12km out of town on the Lakeshore.

Mozambique & Lake Malawi: Lichinga - Metangula Part 3

Finally, full to crushing capacity, the truck headed out of town along a wide dirt road, sided by grass roofed huts and maize fields. As the truck sped along, I clung dearly on to the side, where I was perched, bouncing off the hard edge. It was a good thing a woman had provided her ample buttocks for me to wedge my feet under. The conductor had earlier made the manoeuvre of swapping places with me, so that truck's aerial continually slapped me in the face. Now he gave me a look of camaraderie, and because his smile was that of a wise oriental, it made me laugh, and I was glad to be able to see the funny side. Clouds trailing dark fringes moved towards the road, and soon spits of rain were stinging my face. The truck pulled over, and a large black plastic sheet was unrolled and spread over us, and tucked under the bottoms of people sitting around the side; being at the front I was obliged to hold on to it with my hands also. The rain crackled on the plastic like static electricity, and with little ventilation the temperature underneath soon soared. As the rain eased up the truck pulled over and the cover was removed. We passed through a number of heavy showers and the whole process was repeated each time.

Mozambique & Lake Malawi:Lichinga to Metangula Part 2.

I was at the truck depot at 6.30am, because that was when I had been told I would get a place on the truck going to Metangula. It was an early morning start, but mustering the other fifteen passengers took hours. During which time the semi-loaded truck went sporadically around town making as much noise as possible to attract passengers, with wild beeping of the horn, and the conductor calling out in a rhythmic chime: metangula-metangula-metangula-metangula. Bumping over potholes, whizzing round corners, and the continual honking of the horn made for an interesting early morning experience, not to mention the skid-to-halt stops when someone wanted to get on.