Back behind the wheel

I was up with the birds again and disappointed to see considerably more cloud than blue sky. I made egg butties for breakfast and took some time packing my kit up before making any decisions as the clouds lingered around my intended hiking route. Most of the time, sun shone down on our campsite and I began to feel like spending the time basking and catching up on some more of my journal. Eventually Trish came over and put a seal on my plans for the day. Although Ian was a little better, he still wasn’t fully recovered and she was worried about their plan to stay another night before meeting Cliff and Gay (just about to leave) in Blantyre, early the following morning. She wondered if I would consider driving her and Ian down south to make the following day (a planned 560km haul through Mozambique) more manageable for them. Despite not having driven for over 10 months, I reasoned that Malawi’s quiet roads would be an ideal re-training ground and readily agreed to help them out. I was despairing of getting a clear shot at my climb as more clouds continued to float overhead and, with this definitive plan of action for the afternoon, I decided to lounge around camp, reading and writing until their laundry had dried and they were ready to go. Once decided, is settled back to enjoy the warm sun, grinning smugly every time the clouds settled on Nawimbe’s rocky summit.
After a fine lunch of peanut butter sarnies (!) and fresh strawberries (courtesy of Trish), we packed up their well-stocked Hi-Lux and I climbed into the driver’s seat to tentatively test my clutch control. Both the South Africans and the Malawians drive on the correct side of the road so, with right-hand drive and quiet, well-metalled roads, we made short work of the 80km ride into the city. We found Trish and Ian a room at Kabula Lodge and I left them to get some rest for their long journey the next day.
We’d arrived back a little late for shopping so I decided to try out the local Indian, The Bombay Palace, where I, as the only customer, was treated to exemplary, smiling service by a team of 6 waiters. My onion bhaji – far from the grizzled, hard lump found in Blighty – was a veritable mountain of lightly-crisped, delicately seasoned tidbits and my paneer jalfrezi, Aloo-stuffed paratha and garlic naan, as my good friend Mr Winner might say, were absolutely historic!
Satisfied and a little tipsy, I trundled home to sleep soundly in the warm comfort of a bed.