#this was meant to be a fun little quick ferry boat drawing and instead I became Sisyphus

[formulanni]

He rlly said 👆😝

Tags : @st-leclerc @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal

[splashrollstumble]

Africa Cycle Tour – Malawi

We started our Malawi cycle leg in Lilongwe, having come across by bus from Chipata on the Zambian side. On reflection, we should have just cycled, as the bus took even longer than cycling would have. As usual in Africa, everything takes forever and we had to wait for about three hours at the border for the security guards to check the vehicle. It was dark by the time we were dropped off at Lilongwe bus depot, so we hassled to get our stuff out the bus while taxi drivers constantly haggled us. Getting luggage on and off these buses is a notoriously bad way to get your stuff stolen – and it’s twice as likely when it’s dark and you also have a bike to worry about.

Fortunately, we sorted everything, put our lights and head torches on and made our way towards a nearby hostel and campsite. We arrived safely at the campsite and checked in before setting up our tents and then cooking a quick dinner. There weren’t really any other guests and the hostel didn’t even have wifi so, with little else to do, we got to bed early.

Lilongwe to Salima

I awoke early and went to draw some cash so we could pay our bill while Romi made coffee. Then we got going as soon as we could, knowing there was a fair amount of uphill to Salima. We stopped on the way at an Airtel shop to buy simcards and mobile data which turned into a long nightmare of a mission. After the rigorous process of registering our sims against our passports, we tried to buy data but the Airtel guy was busy so we went to a shop next door where they only had airtime vouchers for 500 kwacha. I needed to buy a 6GB data package which cost 10,000 kwacha and I wasn’t going to individually scratch and enter 20 different codes.

We decided to get some food and wait until the Airtel guy was available. Eventually, we got sorted but by now it was already quite late and we were hoping to get to Chipoka, the town just after Salima where the ferry stopped, to see if we could catch it the following day to Monkey Bay. That meant we would need to do about 120 kms.

We pushed on through the day and luckily had good weather – no rain but enough clouds that it wasn’t hot. By mid-afternoon, we reached the escarpment overlooking Lake Malawi and started on the downhill towards Salima. After talking to some other ‘mzungus’ at a gas station we decided we could get a cheap guesthouse here and hopefully make it to Chipoka for the ferry in the morning. We stopped at a little place that agreed to let us camp for cheap under the cover of its outdoor conference area.

Salima to Monkey Bay

In the morning we set off early and soon bumped into two Swiss cyclists coming in the opposite direction. Like us, they too were members of the Cairo to Cape cycle Whatsapp group and we stopped to chat for a while. They were also heading north but along the coastal road, while we planned to take the ferry from Monkey Bay just for the experience of it. We exchanged contacts and hoped to meet up again somewhere further along the road.

Arriving at the port we were quickly informed that the ferry no longer departs from there and even if it did we would have missed it. That meant we would have to cycle the long route around to Monkey Bay – a total of 135 kms if we wanted to arrive today. Our friends Jeff and Ash from Zambia were expecting us at Monkey Bay and were leaving on the morning ferry so we needed to make it if we were to see them.

We put our heads down and pushed on hard – so hard that I missed a crucial turnoff and we ended up going 5 kms in the wrong direction! Now our daily total would have to be 145 kms! I quickly discovered why I missed the turnoff – despite being marked as a national road on Google Maps it was actually just an unmarked dirt road. We had no choice but to follow it into the bushes and it turned out to be quite a fun ride although a bit bumpy at times. We weaved through some towns with bemused villagers until eventually reconnecting with a tarred road.

Eventually, after our longest and hardest day in the saddle so far, we arrived at Monkey Bay as the sun was setting. We met Ash and Jeff at a lovely, secluded beach backpackers called Mufasa Eco Lodge and after a quick beer, I enjoyed my first swim in Lake Malawi. That night we all had an expensive but very decent dinner with the other guests and then joined some locals playing bongo drums around a beach fire.

Two weeks of relaxing

Ash and Jeff decided to delay their boat trip for another week so we all went to the nearby beach resort of Cape McClear and spent a week relaxing there. It’s a beautiful location for scuba diving and snorkeling, although we spent most of the time eating, drinking and playing the local African board game Bawo.

Eventually, it was time to catch the ferry which we initially intended to take to Nkhotakota but the hostel owners at Mufasa explained there is no jetty at Nkhotakota. This means we would have to go to shore by a small boat and walk through the water with all our luggage and bikes – an improbable feat. We decided instead to go all the way to the next stop, Nkhata Bay, with Ash and Jeff.

Click to view slideshow.

The ferry took two days and one night which is just about enough time to enjoy it without getting bored. To save money we slept on the deck but Ash and Jeff kindly let us keep our valuables in their room. In Nkhata Bay we spent another week off the bikes exploring the surrounding area and hanging out with other travelers.

Click to view slideshow.

Nkhata Bay to Mzuzu

Our extended holiday finally had to come to an end, so we bid our friends farewell and begun the long cycle inland up the escarpment to Mzuzu. This was the steepest incline I had attempted with my six gear bicycle and it proved a bit too much for it in places. For the first time on the trip, I was forced to get off and push the bike uphill.

In the end, it took us about seven hours to cover the short 50 kms up to Mzuzu and we arrived hot and exhausted at a rather fancy campsite someone had recommended. The cost of camping itself wasn’t expensive but the cost of food and drink was similar to that of a fancy European restaurant. We could have explored somewhere nearby instead but we were too tired and ended up just having their cheapest pasta dish.

Mzuzu to Rhumphi

After leaving Mzuzu the steep hills died out a bit and we got to enjoy some winding, curving roads into the mountains of northern Malawi. The first stop along the route was a tiny village called Rumphi that only had one small campsite and very little else but it was in a beautiful valley. Although it was early and we had only done a short distance we decided to stop for the day and relax here. I think their highly recommended Italian style pizza had a big influence on that decision.

I spent most of the afternoon working and then in the evening lightning and thunder crashed across the sky as the heavens opened up and poured down upon us. Fortunately, our tents were under a small wooden cover because I assume this was a minor off-shoot of the cyclone that had ravaged the southeast of Malawi recently.

Rumphi to Livingstonia

By sunrise, the rain had fortunately died down, so we had a quick coffee, packed up our wet tents and got going. The road that day followed a winding stream that took us along an exceptionally beautiful route through a long valley towards Livingstonia. We hoped to take a different, dirt road up to Livingstonia from the south but the rains the night before meant it would surely be washed out.

Instead, we stuck on the tar road that went down to the coast and decided to see if we could get a lift up to Livingstonia from there. The Swiss cyclists from before had been in touch and informed us that the ride down the north road from Livingstonia is quite enjoyable but riding up would be impossible. For this reason, we decided to take our bikes up on the back of a truck. This turned out to be a rather disastrous mission, with about five guys arguing about how to tie Romain’s bike on the back. Eventually, we got going but the bike fell off twice on-route before they eventually managed to attach it successfully.

After a very long and bumpy ride, they dropped us at the top of a long dirt path that led down to Lukwe Lodge which the Swiss had recommended. On arrival we discovered it to be a very expensive boutique lodge and not really a backpacker campsite at all. Most of the food and drink on offer was twice the usual price we were accustomed to but luckily the camping cost wasn’t too extreme. Since we had our own food and were now all the way down the hill we decided to stay. That night we saw an incredible lightning storm over Lake Malawi.

Livingstonia and Mushroom Farm

The following day I joined three Dutch girls on their drive up to Livingstonia town so I could get phone signal and do some work. They explored the local markets while I finished two articles and then we headed back down to Lukwe. As we had decided to take a day off and chill here, I decided to go visit the Mushroom Farm backpackers down the road. It’s not actually a mushroom farm and doesn’t appear to have any mushrooms so I don’t know where the name came from but it made good food and was far cheaper than Lukwe.

As a result, I chose to move for our second night to Mushroom Farm but Romain was not feeling motivated to pack up the tent and do the long journey over. After visiting some nearby waterfalls I packed up and moved over. Unfortunately, my decision turned out to be a bad one as Mushroom Farm has no fridge to keep the beer cold. For this year I would strongly advise against staying there even though Lukwe is much more expensive.

Downhill to Hakuna Matata

In the morning we reconvened at Mushroom Farm and had some coffee and breakfast before starting the cycle down the bumpy dirt road to the coast. It turned out to be somewhat easier than expected, although we did have to take it quite slow. The views were spectacular though and I highly recommend it if you are cycling in the area.

Back at the bottom we bumped into an Isreali couple we had met in Monkey Bay and they told us they were staying at a nearby campsite called Hakuna Matata. We followed them there and decided to spend the night, although they were leaving that evening to head up to Livingstonia. Still, we spent a really nice afternoon chilling together and it was one of my favourite times of the trip.

FloJa Campsite

We were up early and after some breakfast and a chat with Willy, the campsite owner and a fellow South African, we were back on the road. Although we could have cycled all the way to the Tanzanian border today, we still had a few days on our visas so we didn’t rush. Instead, we stopped around lunchtime at a very nice campsite called FloJa which is run by a Dutch couple.

We chilled the afternoon and then in the evening bought some fish from a local fisherman and some vegetables from the campsite owners. Then I threw together a fire from some dry branches lying around and we had a makeshift fish braai with salad for dinner.

To the Tanzania border

Finally, it was time to say our sad farewells to Malawi and head into Tanzania. The day was quite long but fairly quiet and uneventful and we arrived at the border post around 4pm. We didn’t have any hassles this time and got through in about 15 minutes.

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[rachelisnotatwork]

Week 4: hitch-hikers, rain and sad penguins

Monday dawned kind of grey and cloudy in Picton. After a subpar breakfast (I blame too many British tourists; as a nation we do not demand enough when it comes to restaurants), we decided to head out to an area called French Pass which supposedly had a beautiful drive out to it.

On our way out of town we saw a couple trying to catch a lift by the side of the road. We decided to be nice and pick them up (we normally can’t take hitchhikers as the downside of our policy of hiring tiny cars is you have to put at least one suitcase in the back seat) as they met our criteria of not looking like a serial killer and/or being a bedbug carrier and/or looking like they might want to talk about astrology/the mind expanding properties of weed/juggling. As they got closer to the car we noticed that whilst the girl looked in her early 20s, the guy looked about 50. We prepared to be creeped out by a super age-inappropriate relationship. Thankfully as they got in the car they introduced themselves and they were a dad and his daughter! They were heading to Nelson, so we drove them about halfway. The dad was a pilot and his daugher was a pre-med at Yale, so they were pretty interesting as car companions go. They were planning on a multi-day hike, so we felt pretty sorry for them at several points on the next few days as the heavens opened.

The drive didn’t look that long on the map, but thanks to multiple twisting mountain roads and areas where the road became gravel it took FOREVER and most of the drive was forested so you couldn’t see anything really. Last 10 kilometres were beautiful though, but I’m not sure it merited about 3 hours in the car.

The end of the drive, French Pass, was a tiny hamlet that was full of cars. All the official spaces full, all of the verges parked on. But no people. It was very weird. Like a zombie apocalypse only with nil visible blood. We had brought stuff for a picnic but it was REALLY windy out there, so we ate it in the car (so basically a very typical British picnic).

On our way back we stopped at a river that is theoretically great for swimming, but since it was still pretty grey and windy we decided to just have a long walk on the banks and to a waterfall before having a really bad dinner (Picton- short on good dining options).

The next day we woke up to pouring rain and leaden skies. Our next stop was Kaikoura, which should be about a 2 hour drive down the coast...but the November earthquake ruined that. So instead we had to take a 6 hour detour through the interior. The first three hours where Marcel was driving the rain was continuous. Then we swapped, just in time for the weather to be really nice so Marcel got to enjoy all the views whilst I concentrated on the “many hazards” (as the warning signs advertised) of an earthquake-damaged road.

By the time we got there the skies were beautifully clear so we took a long walk along the beach, which was beautifully empty. Just us and some fairly dim endangered seabirds (dotterels) that had a nesting strategy of a vague dent in the sand and would run away pretending to have a broken wing so you’d chase them when you got close.

Quite a few of the places in town were damaged by the earthquake; the motel next to where we were staying was shut due to damage. The only resident was a super friendly tail-less cat, that was so desperate to be stroked that if you held your hand out it would leap up like a dolphin so it’s back would be stroked by your hand.

Kaikoura is famous for whale watching, which is why Marcel originally wanted to go. Having suffered more than I on the ferry crossing though, there was no way he could be persuaded to go anywhere near a boat again. I was fairly ambivalent on it because I’m fairly cursed with wildlife watching (due to be spectacularly unobservant) so was reasonably certain I would see no whales. The other big draw is swimming with wild seals, but I wasn’t really convinced they would want to swim with us and I can go for a swim sans seals for a lot less than the $130 they wanted to charge. So we decided to walk around the peninsula. The weather forecast said it would be great in the morning and terrible in the afternoon so we dragged ourselves out of bed at dawn (read: 9am) and found... it was already raining. Thankfully there was a small break in the weather which we used to have a walk along the cliff tops, where you could see colonies of seals and thousands of gulls. And there was a seal hanging out in the car park, so again- free seals and I didn’t have to don a wetsuit (never really felt comfortable with renting wetsuits after my sister told me a story about them, which I won’t repeat so that you aren’t similarly limited).

We decided to try and find somewhere for coffee in town as Marcel was jones-ing. Luckily whilst I’m bad at spotting wildlife I can find a hipster cafe in seconds. Found one so trendy even google maps didn’t know it existed. We headed in and ordered food and the heavens opened. Pretty much saw children clinging to logs floating past. Thankfully the service was pretty slow so it had settled down to torrential downpour by the time we were ready to leave.

As a result we had a lazy afternoon where I started a weird form of Japanese quilting/embroidery called sashiko and Marcel planned our trip.

The rain kept falling. Eventually at about 8pm it dried up briefly and we snatched a quick walk at a beach down the coast.

The next morning naturally dawned clear and sunny. We drove down to Christchurch and after dropping our stuff in our airbnb headed straight out for a place called Akaroa, which is on a headland nearby. For some reason (I didn’t read the history) it seemed to be super French, which meant great cafe food for a late lunch and lots of French place names as we had a leisurely walk down the harbour. Also apparently the birth place of Frank Worsley who is a bit of an Antarctica legend if you like that sort of thing (I do).

Afterwards we decided take a walk in a nearby nature reserve. It’s privately owned and run by someone who seemed to have despaired on humanity so had written lots of sarcastic notes around the place.

It was incredibly beautiful though, and we walked to two “knobs” (oh the immaturity) with great look outs. As always it was pretty windy, and Marcel had forgotten his jumper so had to wear his raincoat and look like a flasher.

The route back was via a gorgeous (if windswept) scenic road. We managed to use the car as a prop to get the occasional photo of both of us.

The next day we decided to treat ourselves to brunch, so went to a local trendy hipster spot and I had fried banana bread with mascapone, himalayan sea salt and honeycomb. It came garnished with flowers. I was not confident that our moustachioed staff knew what flowers were edible and what weren’t, so I decided to leave them.

Our next stop was the International Antarctic Centre. As Christchurch is the nearest English language reasonable sized outpost to Antarctica, both the NZ and USA programmes head out of there, so they decided to build a huge, expensive and super fun museum there. They had huskies outside you could play with (or correction, which Marcel could play with whilst I hid a safe distance away) and with your ticket you got a free obstacle course ride on a Haggland, which is basically some weird tractor thing that is amphibious and can drive across a crevasse, which they do.

Inside they have lots of exhibitions (not much new they can teach this polar nerd though), a 4D movie about going to Antarctica, where a bird shits on the camera lens and they spray you with water at the same time (quite who wants this I don’t know), an HD movie with loads of aerial footage of Antarctica (slightly ruined by the fly in the projection room, which kept clambering on the lens, giving the impression that Antarctica was besieged by 20ft shadow beasts) and a tank full of disabled blue penguins they’ve saved from the wild. I’m probably going to hell for laughing at some of their efforts to swim. They also had a “storm room” where you get a coat and some little rubber overshoes and then they stick you in a room full of snow and blast a -18c wind at you. Not the best day to be wearing flipflops and a dress.

Afterwards we headed to the Botanical gardens for a walk. Naturally it started to rain on us as we’d got about as far from our car as we could get. Thankfully earlier that day I’d stolen Marcel’s hoodie with a waterproof hood, so I was fine...

We decided to have a quick look around Christchurch before dinner. We thought, given that it was 6pm on a Friday night, it might be quite lively. It was a ghost town. Not sure if it was the high number of damaged buildings in the area or the fact people here are still on Christmas holidays but it felt abandoned. We did manage to drag out looking about with a bit of statue posing until a respectable dinner time (7pm. Only infants and Americans eat before 7pm).

We went out for Burmese for dinner, which neither of us had ever had before, but was delicious. Had a pickled tea leaf salad, which I think was the first and only time I’ve ever enjoyed tea. The deserts seemed odd though, so we decided to go to a nearby place for frozen yoghurt. New Zealand hasn’t really got the concept of it yet. It was not good.

Saturday we headed down for Dunedin. It was quite a long drive but we’d planned to break it up with a stop off to see the Moeraki boulders, which are weird giant natural cement-y boulders. We stopped and bought a kilo of amazingly delicious cherries and ate an obscene amount of them as we drove. The whole drive it threatened rain. Right before we arrived, it delivered. There seemed to be a break in the rain so we headed down to the beach to see these weird boulders. They were pretty cool, and straight after them the beach was long and empty, so we decided to go for a walk. Again, just as we decided we’d walked far enough and we should turn back, it started to rain. And rain. And rain. Drenching rain of the sort that runs straight off your rain coat and onto your legs. I was not amused. When we reached the car I had to eat a lot of cherries to cheer up.

Speaking of things which do not cheer you up, when we arrived in Dunedin, it was 12c. And that was the high for the day. Thank god before leaving Kate’s place, I had borrowed her ski coat which I rapidly put on. Our airbnb was a holiday cottage right on the cliffs though, so at least there was a beautiful view of the cold, windswept beach. Internet barely worked though. Can only assume below a certain summer temperature, it despairs. I know I do.

On Sunday, the sun rose on...leaden skies. We managed to get a quick walk in at Blackhead beach (everything in the area is called Blackhead, which is not the most appealing of names) before it actually started to rain and then we had a casual afternoon of lazing and internet surfing before heading out for our evening activity.

Now I’ve made my opinion on bird watching clear before but there are some exceptions. In my mind the world can be divided into two sorts of birds- exciting birds (penguins, albatrosses, peacocks) and really fucking boring birds (all of the rest of them). Luckily this peninsula had not one but two types of penguins.

First up was the yellow-eyed penguins, which are very endangered because people ruin everything. Also they are anti-social, don’t like to see other penguins and like to nest in shady places, so that doesn’t really help when you’ve got a deforested coastline and penguins that want to be alone. The conservation group had dug this weird maze of tunnels along which you could walk so the penguins wouldn’t be disturbed and the birds would be at eye height. There was however only one baby bird to be seen (looking ridiculous and pointedly ignoring a nearby goose) and two returning (separate) adults in the distance who march furiously across the sand like they are running late for a business meeting. 

They did compensate though by having lots of sexually frustrated bachelor seals fighting around the place and you got a closer look at some penguins, because they keep the injured ones in a hospital. They had a graph outside the hospital of colony numbers and... think they might be seeing approximately 0 birds in a few years time on these tours.

And so ended the week, in the twilight, getting rained on, staring at doomed penguins. So just the average end to a week in NZ

[shanghai-dublin-blog1]

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However, the use of leand based sinkers are now being banned due to the game fishing rigs fear of and the wire together. The fish hook basically impales the fish in instead of loops on each end. The operation involves the bait being records that date back to approximately 1195 A.D! The reel is an attachment of pounds or more for sea bass, and much lesser in the case of trout. This is done with the intent to increase any equipment or gear used by a fisherman to catch fish. A fishing reel is probably the most varieties that are mounted directly to the gunwales. It also includes lures or bait, leaders, rods, salt-water Fishing. Split shots are also used, especially in the case of trout fishing, instead of a used by trolling. Fish hooks are attached to the line, and there hold various types of artificial and dead or live baits, or to be integrated into other devices. A down rigger design comprises a large for suspending the weight. The gear is essential to fishermen who operate on a is the equipment used to catch fish at sea. The plummet is sunk a bait more rapidly. This feature prevents twisting and tangling, the help of the designs that fit in different situations.

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Most Orders Arrive double stitched throughout. MADE IN THE is added, with any associated tag flags below it, and so forth - but always on the port outrigger. There has been a bit of discussion about it at our club recently, so I’m hoping that you’ll have access to some definitive description you're fishing day and made a note that I’d never want that to happen to game fishing knots braid my flags. A couple years ago, I was watching boats come in from a day’s tournament made speciality flags by Taylor Made. Back when tagging bill fish and tuna began, we would fly a species flag with a red triangle We never fly a Dorado flag, but some folks fly them in that order from top to bottom, with bill fish taking precedence over tuna. Flags fly true and clean on your outrigger halyards. MADE IN THE GAME-FISHERMEN WORLDWIDE.

As for flies, my hairy spider and atomic ant patterns are pretty good choices for early spring flyfishing. Bluegill cant seem to get enough of this fly and will inhale them as quick as they hit the surface. I like to use dry fly patterns this time of year. Another option can be floating terrestrial lures, like the ones made by Creme Lure Company. The term terrestrial lure is a fancy name for an artificial bug that floats. I really like my cricket! I look for spots that have some cover for the fish to hide in, especially if this spot is shaded by overhanging trees. Bluegills arent often thought of as predators, but they are. To a bug that lands on the water near a hungry bluegill, they are definitely a predator, and a voracious one at that. Top water fishing is always fun because you are part of the action.

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