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.