Exploring the area around Lake Malawi allows for adventure and relaxation
From Mbeya in southwestern Tanzania, the B345 road winds its way past fields of potatoes, sweet potatoes, bananas, and coffee and tea plantations, before descending gently along the edges of the Great Rift Valley and into Malawi. We drove alongside the lake for a while before the ride got wild.
The car’s satellite navigation screen looked like spaghetti. We were clambering our way up a dirt track to the small town of Livingstonia, an ascent of 900m featuring more than 20 hairpin bends and astonishing dongas and boulders. The road was designed by Dr. Robert Laws, a Scottish missionary and disciple of explorer Dr. Livingstone, a fine feat of engineering for a medical doctor, as they say around here.
It was a real sports bra of a road. We climbed up and up the mountainside, jiggling, jostling, bumping, grinding, scraping, and after a long, hot Malawian hour or two, we arrived at our destination – the charming eco-lodge called The Mushroom Farm. We are on a cliff, said the welcome sign, so please take care.
Livingstonia La Vida Loca
We were indeed on the edge of the world. The Mushroom Farm perched perilously on the mountaintop, a collection of rustic chalets and tents with hopelessly romantic views of the forests and rivers below and the distant Lake Malawi. Livingstone dubbed it ‘the lake of stars’ and it’s also known as the calendar lake because it is 365 miles from north to south, one mile for each day of the year. It’s so huge you could spend years exploring it or just briefly gaze adoringly from high above.
The Mushroom Farm is a comfortable and affordable space for travelers to rest and recharge high in the mountains. Their ethos is based on responsible tourism, and it’s all permaculture, solar power, compost toilets, and yoga flow – exactly what two weary old travelers like us needed. We met a lovely mix of young people from Mexico, the USA, England, and Australia, many involved in NGOs and volunteering in Malawi, which is one of the world’s poorest countries, and it lent us hope.
The Mushroom Farm had solar panels that kept the music playing, the fridges working, the lights shining, and the charging station going. They had pigs and chickens and showers with views and a convivial bar with interesting coffee and cocktails. We had great fun. We went on a guided walk to see the incredible Manchewe Falls – at 1,007m the highest waterfall in Malawi. We drank the local Kuche Kuche beer at a little bar called CK Love Nest Restaurant and made a fabulous lunch on a grassy cliff overlooking the lake, with tomatoes and onions we’d bought at a roadside market en route.
We visited the little town of Livingstonia, founded in 1894 by missionaries from the Free Church of Scotland. The Scottish missionaries built a school, technical training center, hospital, church, and university. Livingstonia made an immeasurable contribution to education in Malawi and was one of the first places in the country to have electricity, as early as 1905.
A few days later, we headed back down the spaghetti road. It was no less bumpy, but we were much more relaxed. We continued, traveling picturesque roads with baobabs and enormous grassy golden boulders. We passed cyclists and goats, men walking their cows, markets and buses, and ancient mosques. So far so good, said the sign on the outskirts of Nkhata Bay, a busy little town on the edge of the lake. “God bless my enemy,” said another sign on a village shop.
By midafternoon, we were lounging on the lake’s edge at a fabulous Boho backpacker’s spot called Butterfly Space, listening to reggae and the sounds of happy young stoners playing pool. Butterfly Space is a non-profit eco-lodge that supports community initiatives, and it had great vibes, pleasant chalets overlooking the lake, and a festive little restaurant called the Mkana Café, which served wholesome meals and excellent vodka cocktails starring basil and lemongrass.
Around the Edge
Lake Malawi was at its highest in years and waves crashed on the deck in front of the café and much of the beach was underwater. But guests were still partying, kayaking, diving, and swimming, especially after the long walk to town and back. It’s a busy little town with old buildings and crowded markets, friendly hagglers, and colorful spaza shops.
From Nkhata Bay, we headed south towards Salima, a bustling junction where the M5 lakeshore highway and the M5 to Lilongwe meet. By afternoon, we had found a fabulous camping spot right on the edge of the lake near Senga Bay. The Sunbird Waterfront is a blingy new hotel next door, but the campsite itself was shaded by huge trees with plenty of space. In fact, we were the only people here. The full moon was rising, and moonlight glanced gently off the baobab trees that stood guard at the campsite. Ironically, it would be the noisiest of our camping nights as the moon churned up the lake and the waters chopped and slapped the beach. It didn’t matter. We had the lake of stars all to ourselves.
Text and photography | Bridget Hilton-Barber
For more information or to book a stay, go to themushroomfarmmalawi.com, visitmalawi.mw, and butterflyspacemalawi.com.
