Malawi is a seriously laid back sort of place. It has a reputation for friendly people, perfect beaches, and also Malwi Gold which managed to elude me although I tried all the other local beers. Our first port of call was the capital, Lilongwe, which has little to offer the traveller except for an excellent travellers’ rest at Kiboko Camp, where you find genuine overlanders with stories of their travels to distant lands etc. etc., and who also knew which bars to drag me too, and also how to pour enough beer down my neck to ensure that I suffered a 7-0 whitewash in a game of pool for the first time in my life. At least I was wearing clean underwear.

Laura and Penny had booked a diving course for the following week at Nkhata bay, so they decided to come down to Cape Maclear for the weekend – getting there was an ordeal as the road building programme is in a fair amount of disarray, but we managed eventually to bounce our way to the Fat Monkey, to the absolute glee of the local mossie population.

Lake Malawi is one of those very special places which can exert a strong hold on the passing traveller – I was hard put to focus on the impending rains on the coast, and very nearly signed up for a nitrox course with Glenn Campbell who runs Scuba Shack, an excellent PADI dive centre. Will power prevailed, and after a couple of dives, and a relaxing weekend, I folded up my tent and left, via of course the renowned Chembe Lodge who just happened to offer a generator, cold beer, and DSTV at exactly the same time as England crushed Uruguay 111-13. Coincidence? You must be kidding.

Blantyre

So here I am in Blantyre at another great little haven, Doogles, where I’m sadly captivated by my first ADSL connection since Cape Town, and find myself sitting at a keyboard all day when there are perfectly good beaches waiting for me in Mozambique. Hmmm… Time to move East…