If you look at this map you might recognise how the original plan had been to travel to the southern Malawian city of Blantyre before turning west across the Mozambique border through Tete and on into Zimbabwe. However, the decision was finally made to avoid Zimbabwe, so it was going to be a straightforward westerly route into Zambia, crossing the border just before Chipata (the birthplace of one Joe Kelly to those who know him).
The short two hundred and forty kilometre ride was never going to be challenging except that it included yet another dreaded border crossing.
I approached the backlog of parked trucks that snaked their way back for a couple of kilometres and oh for the joy of being able to glide past them on a motorbike. I understand from chatting with some of the drivers that they sometimes have to wait two or three days to get cleared through.
My able assistant on this occasion was once again named Patrick and he sort of appeared to be helping me without us even having discussed a fee. As the formalities involved in crossing into Zambia are more onerous I was happy to just let him do his thing. It was particularly hot and I couldn’t be bothered haggling.
As well as the Immigration process for myself and Customs clearance for Simba and related Carnet documents, there is also a local authority tax to be paid as well as a Road Tax. There is an additional Toll fee and not to forget the Zambian motorbike insurance. So Patrick, who was a very soft spoken Malawian guy, had a lot to get me through.
In all the border crossings I have made over the years, and given the seedy environments, nobody has ever interfered with Simba. I used to be uncomfortable leaving him unattended for lengthy periods (with just the alarm switched on) but I guess that the presence of so many soldiers and police is good enough protection.
An official at Zambian Immigration was potentially going to be a bit difficult but I could make out a Spurs logo on a top she was wearing under her jacket. I winked at her as I announced to the whole room how proud she must be about the three nil win over Manchester United at Old Trafford the previous night. She suddenly started to gloat and went on to lord it over her colleagues. I must confess to lying about how pleased I was about the result and, either she overlooked it or it wasn’t due, but there was no visa fee this time around.
Anyway, after a couple of hours getting through the various paperworks, I gave a very grateful Patrick US$20 and bought us both a Coca Cola from a vendor. All done and I was now in Zambia.
I hadn’t had breakfast so stopped off in Chipata to visit an ATM and to get a bite to eat. A couple of guys were hanging around Simba and begged me to let them take selfies while sitting on the seat. No problem.
The one thing that you notice after crossing the border from Malawi is just how different the two countries are. I’m not saying that Zambia doesn’t have subsistence and poverty related issues, but there is altogether a sense of it being more prosperous, relatively that is of course.
So I pushed on down The Great Eastern Road towards Katete where I would be staying at Tikondane Community Centre.
I had emailed that fine German woman, Elke, who runs this quite mammoth enterprise attaching to a community school and a hospital. In addition to these programs she has also set up an accommodation facility and a food service area. As well as the school, they train local girls as teachers. They offer skills classes in woodwork, soap making and food product manufacture to name but a few. It is an incredible cottage industry and well worth the support of any of you who might feel so inclined.
My room was a rondeval which is a traditional South East African dwelling and could sleep six people comfortably.
There was running water and a decent supply of electricity which made for a very comfortable night…..
ZIGZAGGING AFRICA BY MOTORBIKE 