Livingstonia

At the top of one of the mountains behind Chitimba is a village built by Scottish Missionaries called Livingstonia. It took a very steep and hot four hour walk up a long winding road to get there but was most definitely worth it. The air there was so clear and smelt of the pine and eucalyptus trees that grew everywhere. It reminded me of Australia, in fact since then a lot of Malawi has reminded me of Australia but that may be because there are blue gum eucalyptus trees almost anywhere you go. On the day I set off for Livingstonia I saw my first wild snake (other than one in England when I was at boarding school). It was slithering into a cafe where I was eating breakfast. I thought it was very cool to see and it was only a little one but the cafe owners went mad, screaming and trying to hit it with a stick. I guess they don't like snakes.

Anyway, on the way up to Livingstonia were views back down over Chitimba (a photo of one of the views is on my Chitimba post), and when I was there the were views all around over the mountains one way and down to the lake another.

Most of the houses were built by the missionaries and were huge with lovely verandas and gardens. It seems people in Malawi like to have nice gardens even when everywhere outside of the gardens is often really dry and dusty. I stayed in what is known as Stone House which was surrounded by flowering trees and amazing views. I chose the cheapest room which was a dorm but only two out of the eight beds had mattresses. The others were just metal bed frames. The room was right down in the cellar and at night time turned very cold. There were three other girls staying there who were sharing a room upstairs and when they found out what my room was like they very kindly let me share with them instead (at night time everyone except for a watch man left and so the big old house was completely empty apart from us).

Mike showed me the way up to Livingstonia and when we arrived we went and got the key for the local church off the care taker and let ourselves in to look around. We climbed up the bell tower and out of a hole in the roof to stand on the top, where we could see back down over the village. On the way back down I sneakily rang the bell except it wasn't so sneaky as it was noisy and the care taker knew it was Mike and I in the church. Still, he didn't say anything when we returned the key and there wasn't a mad rush of people coming to the church thinking it saw time to worship.

After a rest and lunch we went off to check out some waterfalls. Now I do like waterfalls but I've found that more often than not they're a bit of a disappointment and not as wonderful as who ever tells you about them makes out. This time though they were a million times more wonderful than I ever imagined. They dropped over cliffs far down into the valley below which was surrounded by forested mountains. We stood at the top of one of the falls looking across to a second waterfall and down over they edge where the water fell. Standing pretty much in the water as it flowed over the top it was hard to see how such a small looking amount of water on the flat river bed could turn into such a large looking amount of water falling for meters and meters and meters below.

It truly was amazing! I then walked around to the second waterfall where we could see back to the first and you could stand in a cave just underneath where the water stared to fall. Apparently slaves used to hide in the cave years ago.

The walk to and from the falls was lovely and we past people going about their daily lives, farming, carrying things to wherever they were going, and sitting around chatting with friends and playing Boa Game. Everywhere both here and in Tanzania are mud bricks piled up ready to burn before they are used for building. The photo above is from a particularly impressive pile on the way to the falls. I'm not sure who the little boy is but here people are very, very keen to be in your photographs where as in Tanzania they're mostly very, very keen not to be.

Mike returned to Chitimba the same day which meant the following day I made the journey back alone. On the way up we'd taken short cuts which went straight up the banks of the mountains, cutting off some of the bends in the road. Mike had warned me not to take them on the way back as some of them wouldn't lead where I wanted to go and I could get lost. I however decided that it would be boring just to stick to the road and so took my chances with the short cuts. The only problem was that I couldn't remember at which which ones we'd taken on the way up.

Almost straight away I was lost in a tiny village where lots of children happily shouted Mzungu (meaning white person) at me but one poor small child was absolutely terrified by me and screamed and screamed and screamed. I was pointed in the right direction and found my way back to the road. Undeterred I continued to take the short cuts as they appeared. All but one turned out to be good ones so I was very pleased with myself and made it down the mountain in the record time of three hours. The one short cut I did get wrong was a bit unfortunate as I'd followed it steeply down through the forest for ages only to reach a sign saying 'private, no entry beyond this point'. The sign was just randomly on the little path in the middle of the forest so rather than going straight on I just turned right, away from the sign, towards where I thought the road should be. There now was no path and I had to battle my way through all the shrubs and trees, jumping over ditches and hoping for once that snakes weren't too close. I really didn't want to have to go all the way back up to where I'd just come from to get back to the road but in the end with the fear of getting lost on the mountain forever I was forced to retrace my steps. It was fortunate I did as the road wasn't where I thought it would be at all and had I carried on I would never have got back to it. Despite the two mishaps it was a journey I very much enjoyed.