If I was going to suggest an easy country for a three week bike tour in a beautiful and exotic part of the world that wouldn’t require a lot of training, that included amenities like comfortable accommodations found less than 100km apart, cool temps for biking, safe roads, a bicycle culture, beautiful beaches, lake swims, interesting topography, great views, and friendly people, I would suggest Malawi. Our travel here was among the most stress free of the trip.
We spent only 18 days in the country, entering the day after David’s birthday and exiting on mine. Lake Malawi extends vertically down most of the country and we were able to ride near the shore most of the time. Especially wonderful were the beach front lodgings, some in the higher end range where we might stop just for a break and for a taste of real coffee, some at the other end of the range with a thatched roof , cement floor and outhouse, then some in the mid range with amenities for tourists. I loved the peacefulness and the many beautiful sunrises and moonrises in those lodgings. Much more densely populated than Mozambique many more people walked along the road and many, many people rode bicycles. Approaching larger towns I needed to be vigilant, not for large trucks, speeding bus traffic, or inattentive drivers (as was my focus in other parts of the world when approaching large towns), but I needed to be aware of what the many cyclists were doing. I have found that in countries where cycling is not a hobby, but a mode of transportation, the roads feel much safer. Drivers expect bicycles to be on them; they understand the space they need and they generally respect their right to be there. In Malawi, also, there was little traffic, which made the roads very safe to travel.
Like in Mozambique, where I didn’t see many large trucks hauling goods from one place to the other, it suggested to me there was little industry other than farming. In abundance, however, were the signs of NGO’s (charitable non-governmental organizations). Joint projects between the government and various aid organizations were everywhere–to grow cassava, maize, beans, vegetables, coffee, tea, to process fruit juice, charcoal, sugar, to irrigate and improve the land for crops and on and on. We saw several orphanages along the road, most likely for children whose parents died of AIDS. We saw many missions and their schools, both of the Christian faith and newer buildings of the Islamic faith. I had questions about all the charitable money spent. Malawi, like Mozambique is one of the poorest countries in Africa. We met farmers whose cash income was just $30 per month. It seemed to me with all this evidence of aid money being spent we should have seen a little more prosperity.
Charitable giving also became evident in the enthusiasm we were greeted by village children. Children whooped and hollered “Muzungu!!” for “white person” in joyful glee at the sight of us and came running from all directions. While I do feel their joy was often genuine and without guile, we also began hearing the phrase “Give me money! Or “Give me pen!” more and more often; and more and more often, after a wave of the hand, we were given the gesture of an upturned palm. I began to feel that the children were used to muzungus giving them things. Then I remembered in the past people talking about visiting villages in the third world. Before they left home they put together boxes of school supplies or other useful kinds of things to hand out to children rather than giving them candy or money. Indeed we met cyclists who carried balloons, or even frizbees to give to children. Come to think of it, I’ve also contributed to the project of two world cyclists who handed out bikes to children in two different orphanages in areas they traveled. What better thing to do than to bring joy to children who have so little (especially compared to the closets of toys children have in the world I’m from), children who appreciate even the smallest of gifts? The downside is the demanding expectant child whose first words to us when she/he reached the side of the road was “Give Me!” I don’t have an answer to what is the right thing to do.
We stopped early at the Mahanji Village Guest House in a non-tourist area and prices here are the cheapest yet (in the world!). For $3.60 we have a clean room with electricity, a private bathroom and mosquito netting over a queen bed . Dinner in a tidy restaurant hosted by friendly Djenta (speaking English with a baby on her back) cost $2.20 for the both of us plus .70 for two sodas. After a complementary dessert of fresh papaya, we went to the bar next door for two beers (500 ml) at $1.10 each and a street vendor offered us a newsprint cone full of fresh roasted peanuts for 35 cents . Total cost for the evening = $9.75; no distorted music blaring = priceless.
