It was dark by the time we reached Blantyre and the backpackers’ lodge was down an unlit track past the bus station. The "rougher" end of town; the wrong side of the track. The gates were operated by two burly guards. Inside we parked the car and emptied it, you can never be too sure. Suddenly we were amongst westerners, mostly tourists but a few local expatriates had popped in for a Friday night drink too; there was a youth hostel come youth club atmosphere. The real treat was sharing the space with 14 sixteen-year-old girls from Scotland. After weeks of conservative dress in Zanzibar, and the modestly dressed villagers we had seen along the way, the sight concentration these of bright young things with their strappy tops and freshly washed hair was what dreams are made of.
Sat 26 Jul
The following morning I bought a second bawo game, excessive I know but I seem to have become a collector of these things. We started the long drive north, stopping for late morning coffee in Zomba and then feeling rather adventurous made our way up the zigzag dirt road to take in the views from the top of the Zomba plateau escarpment.