Zomba

By Elise and Zach.

Elise: 

Zomba is a small town, situated at the base of a plateau of the same name, in the south of Malawi. It is known for hiking and strawberries. It was the capital of Nyasaland during the British rule, as the high elevation makes this area 4-5 degrees cooler than the rest of the country. You know them Brits; bloody love colonising hot places and then complaining about the weather.

We took the usual mini bus nightmare from Monkey Bay to Zomba. Not long after we arrive I begin to feel quite unwell, and following a hellish night of no sleep we realise I have two golf balls in my throat (tonsillitis) and definitely need to get to a doctor. Armed with the strongest anti-biotics they had to offer I spent the next few days in a blur. Zach and the hostel staff spent the whole time looking after me, bringing me lemon and honey tea, blankets and cuddles.

In a few days we are finally well enough to hike up the mountain for pasta (Zach put his back out and took a couple days to loosen up). There is a Italian lodge called Casa Rossa maybe a quarter of the way up the plateau with an incredible restaurant serving world class pasta. It's expensive for Malawi but great value for the quality of food and the scenery. We pass thickets of bamboo, small streams and skittish baboons on the way up. We sit on a deck eating ravioli and tagliatelle, and drinking wine (after half a glass I am a wrecked thanks to the anti-biotics).

A day or so later we go for the proper hike up the plateau. We catch a ride to top, and get dropped off at an old school fancy lodge, a relic from the colonial days gone by. We have a map and some idea what we are doing, so we say no to all the guide touts and set off. The first section of the hike is all pine forest plantations, with some eucalypts thrown in. As it is a Saturday there are many children on the road heading up the mountain. Offcuts from the pine are collected by women (and children), and carried down the mountain to be sold as fire wood at the markets and side of the road. These bundles are huge, and precariously balanced on heads as they head down hill at a speedier pace than seems safe. Men, women, children and even women with children on their backs have bundles on their heads, walking up and down the steep slopes all day. Paved roads or dirt tracks, bare feet as often as not, some of them overtake the two of us who are not carrying anything. These people are strong. The children make us sad.

We come across a waterfall and head off the trail to get a better look. We have the place all to ourselves, so we eat mandarins and enjoy the scene. The next hour or so of the hike is passing through small camps of men milling wood and staring at us. Once beyond the logging the path is strewn with wildflowers and baby pines. After about two hours we come across one of the lookouts, with unimpeded views of Zomba and the surrounding mountainside. Its very beautiful. We come across another lookout with a slightly different viewpoint.

After we pass a small dam with willows growing around the waters edge, we realise we have taken a wrong turn. We double back and sit on a large rock eating our lunch trying to work out where it went wrong. Eventually we realise the path we are looking for no longer exists. The area where the alleged path should be has recently been logged and replanted, and my guess is the people doing the replanting forget to put the road back in. Our map must be out of date. We take a stab and decide to use one of the small paths through the thick bush that we have only seen locals using. This path is not on the map, but its heading in around about the right direction. The path was narrow and full of loose rock and difficult footings. It takes us up and then down a small mountain with another landscape view. All is going okay until I slip and fall. It was always bound to happen, I have spent my life running into or tripping over things. Its not that bad. Whilst the walk on the path not on the map is a little shacking, it takes us right into the heart of the old growth, into the beautiful green dense tropical forest. There are colourful little birds fluttering along the path, and rainbow locusts and butterfly's. Its very peaceful with the only noise coming from the rustling of leaves and running water in the distance.

Astoundingly, we take a turn and hit the main dam on the plateau. Even without an up to date map we managed, and even possibly had a better hike because of it. Of course as we cross the dam and leave through a gate on the other side we are met with a man demanding payment. Enough years of travelling, especially in the last few months have taught me that this old mate is full of shit. We blow him off and keep walking down the hill.

We follow the road and turn off the hike down what we (and by we I mean Zach) thought was the 'potato path'. This is the main path up the hill with beautiful views as you ascend or descend the plateau. Only it wasn't. It was another one of the local trails with lots of loose rocks, and after my previous fall made the whole decent a little shaky. Nevertheless, after an hour of near misses and we managed to arrive at the Italian restaurant  from the other night, to enjoy a well deserved pasta and wine, and obviously gelato.

Zach:

Our hostel had mountain bikes for hire and the plateau was criss-crossed with great trails. I've had only two opportunities to cycle since we left Melbourne so I was stoked when we got to Zomba, only to wake up with a crook back the next morning. I spent the next couple of days slowly stretching and warming it up enough to turn my head properly again, determined not to miss out. In the end we had to stay an extra night to fit it in but we liked the hostel and Elise was convinced by a second visit to the Italian restaurant.

The ride up was brutal. Two months off and all my bike fitness had disappeared. Throw in 10km of steep, winding hills and I wasn't sure if I was actually going to make it. Two thirds of the way to the top I came across the actual potato path (Elise still hasn’t let me live it down) and decided to give it a go for a change of pace and because it seemed a shame to come to Zomba and not climb it. I carried the bike up a steep track, which was admittedly wider and safer than the one we used to descend the day before but still a challenging hike.

Once up top I decide to head the opposite way to the day before and check out the far side of the plateau. There are dozens of little trails heading off the road that look like they will make for great riding but I want to get to the lookout first. This is a good decision as the lookout takes longer to reach than I expected and the view is spectacular. I eat lunch, sitting on the edge of a cliff, between two edges of the plateau, looking out over a stunning valley. Just back from the lookout is a wide hole surrounded by trees that leads down into a network of caves. One of the local guys, who is selling drinks and souvenirs at the lookout, tells me he can show me how to climb down about 60 metres to explore the caves, "without a rope". He seems to think this is a selling point for some reason.

From there the way back is largely downhill and makes for a good fun ride, though the hire bike has seen better days. The breaks are a little sketchy once I'm up to speed, and the seat comes loose after a couple hours meaning I'm unable to sit down for the rest of the ride. I'm wrecked but buzzing by the time I get back, wishing I had another week to explore the plateau. But we have an overnight bus to catch to Nkhata Bay and another amazing place to discover.