Moving along nicely thanks  ..Part Two

This could be a bit of a rag-bag section, as I think I've brought you up to date re trip's progress so far. I've cycled into town again on rest day 2 in Lilongwe and I'll spend the rest of the day hanging around the shops and cafes, reading, writing and watching the world go by. I need to get my beard number oned, my shoes cleaned and to eat lots of food. I also need a good book to replace the one I've nearly finished. I've been reading Blood River by Tim Butcher. It's by a bloke with a bit of a travel compulsion like myself. In 2004 he retraced John Roland's ( aka Stanley's) journey across Africa, when he, Stanley, became the first white man to cross the continent from east to west and descend the River Congo. If you like horror stories then this is the book for you, although there are some uplifting moments in it. Hopefully my blog is showing a more benign side to Africa. Anyway the rag-bag starts here...

Poverty. It's difficult to talk about poverty when you are relatively fortunate in the money department. There's a bit in Fran Sandham's book, the man who walked the route I'm attempting, where a Zambian comes up to him and says "You've just come here to see how poor we are." He is probably right. It's at least one reason in respect of most people who choose to visit Africa. I suppose it's the other end of the scale of fascination from walking round Knightsbridge and noting the insane property prices, the fancy motors and the boutiques selling shoes for 500 pounds. Most of us get a buzz out of it. The mud hut villages and the teeming tatty markets are picturesque and intriguing. And the remarkable thing is the resilience and apparent cheerfulness of the people, which is moving. Having said that, it's probably not much different to life in rural and urban Victorian England, the sort of conditions Stanley extricated himself from. I've talked to and overheard conversations of the many young westerners doing voluntary work with schools, orphans, aids victims, farm workers etc . They all comment on how they are inspired by the spirit of the people but often add that it all seems a bit hopeless in that they are not really solving the problems they are working at. It's just sticking plaster.

Strangely there are very few beggars, no more than in the UK, it seems. Everyone is doing something to earn a crust. Most are working the land without any mechanical help other than hand tools. The produce is mostly carried out of the fields on their heads, on bicycles or in hand carts. Others are carrying things for other people - half a dozen fish they've caught, a bundle of sticks for fuel or a tub of water on the head. About a third of the people are barefoot, nearly all children. There are very few overweight people, the exception being the police who man the many traffic check points. They tend to be tall and hefty. The country people are generally significantly smaller than my 5 foot 9.

As I've got into central Malawi, where tourists go, I've heard "Give me money" a thousand times. That's not an exaggeration. It usually comes from a disembodied child behind  bushes as I cycle past. It can be young adults though and the wording hardly changes.Presumably it's taught them by their elders. Maybe it's the aid culture trickling down. Foreign aid, it seems, is a vital part of the economy. I feel like shouting back "I'm already giving you money" and drawing their attention to the many, many EU supported schemes to build roads, bridges, schools, clinics, irrigation schemes, agricultural diversification schemes and so on. The sign boards are all along the road. A Dutch woman working in safe sex education said " Wouldn't it be nice if they'd say "Excuse me, can you pay me to help you with something.""

OK, enough, but it's difficult to visit some places without saying something about the fact that they are poor while you are rich.

Weird ! A few people intimated that I was mad for wanting to cycle across Africa. I chatted to the manageress at my accommodation yesterday. She said, "Oh, we get all sorts here. People on bikes, some on foot. We even got a Dutch woman who'd driven a farm tractor from Holland and was heading for the south pole". "Did she make it?" I asked. "Yes. She was sponsored by various people". Ah, well that's different, I thought. I pictured her chugging up the Beardmore Glacier blond pig-tails flapping in the antarctic breeze. Must check out the veracity of that one...

Hi, lads ! This is just to say "Hello" to two likely lads whom  I met in Mlare 2 weeks ago and who took my address and said they'd read. So, Lawrence Munthali and Kelvin Moses, it was nice talking and I think you'll go far.

Other cyclists, by which I mean fellow pinkos on tour. I've met 4 so far. Dave the Canadian I told you about. Then I met a Dutch couple 4 or 5 days ago, possibly my seniors. And an Italian man on a bamboo bike who was hoping to ride it to London in time for the paralympics, he said. Drugs?

Joyce Banda. Since April Malawi has had a woman president. Wikipedia has all the details.

Stats. So far, and having finally learned how to use the calculator on my mobile phone, I've done 0.3947608 of my total journey. Call it 4/10.

School slogans. Maybe, like me, you are a bit fed up with the  meaningless mission statements that schools have produced since they've been obliged to compete and tout for business. The "Excellence as standard" variety. They've caught on here too. I've read 100s as I've crossed Tanzania and Malawi. They all have one. The one I liked  best , a couple of days out of Dar, was just 3 simple words: "Education is light".

Lake Malawi. It's contains 8400 cubic kilometers of water. Its deepest point is approx 700 feet below sea level. The first naval action of WW1 took place on it. The surface temperature varies between 24 and 25 degrees C, just a bit cooler than Hx swimming pool. The first European to visit was a Portuguese named Cardoso in 1846.. Livingstone visited in 1859. Its surface area is approx 3 times the size of Yorkshire. It's thought to have the greatest variety of fish species of any fresh-water lake.

It used to be called Lake Nyasa. Apparently Livingstone inquired of the locals what its name was. Nyasa, it seems, just means "water", not quite what he meant. There are lots of bodies of water in east Africa with similar names. Exe, Axe and Usk are the English river equivalents. Speaking of misunderstandings,  I don't think it's a pub myth that when Capt Cooke asked a puzzled native what the hopping marsupials were called and got the answer "Kangaroo", what the guy really said was something like "Bog off, weirdo !".

African lorries can be a partial cure for home sickness. As they have the good sense to drive on the left here, many come from the UK when they're deemed to be knackered. Or maybe, they just get stolen. Often they keep the UK firm's name, so I've spotted Allan Ramsay Bulk Haulage of Pencaitland, Peter Smith and Son, Cliviger, Burnley,  Hopley Haulage of Weymouth and many others.

Mystery reader According to Blogspot I have reader in Nigeria. I'm baffled. Please get in touch.

Next blog could be in 703 kms time in Lusaka or, possibly, Chipata  just over the border.  You've probably had enough anyway. Thanks for reading.