Day 11 – Livingstonia to Nkhata Bay: Down to the Lake

Woken by the lake, this time. The night before we had seen it only in the dark; that morning the whole drop below the Cob House veranda ran down to Lake Malawi, and the water turned briefly gold and pink before settling into blue. The bathroom beside the room was the size of a small house, with one wall left open onto the valley. We were at the far end of the eco-lodge, quiet, a long path through the trees between us and the bar where breakfast is served and where, on Starlink, the only internet in the place lives. That was fine by us. It was good for a detox, and good too for the people who come here to work remotely, like Ren, a Japanese man of about forty who has lived and worked in Malawi since January and was into his third week at the Mushroom Farm, and seemed content with the choice.

The delay had cost us the second night, and we should have been leaving at dawn. Instead, standing on that veranda, we changed the plan again. The lodge was probably the most beautiful place we would stay on the whole trip, and we were not going to hurry out of it. We gave up the idea of walking down the direct footpaths that cut across the hairpins and deliver you to the lakeshore on foot, and asked Gift instead to drive us the whole way to Nkhata Bay later in the morning. That bought us a slow breakfast, which turned out to be well deserved.

The breakfast at the Mushroom Farm is known as the best in Malawi, and I think it is true. The woman who checked us in was called Fiskani. I said she had the same name as the restaurant we had eaten at the day before, and she said the restaurant was her house, that she is Mama Fiskani, and that she also works here. Everything in this place is tied to the community around it, the way Gift is. I had the sweet French toast; Lorena had the veggie fry-up.

Before we left, we walked out across the plateau to the farm’s permaculture centre. This, Dumisani told us, was the first permaculture project in Malawi, and it now involves dozens of people from Livingstonia just below and has become a model beyond it. The tour costs a little, though most of the place is free, and the walls of the sheds were covered with hand-painted boards laying out the thinking: start small, expand later; see solutions, not problems; cooperation, not competition. I photographed them among the seedlings. Getting up here is not easy, and Lorena and I promised ourselves we would come back and stay four or five days some time. Then we sat on our own terrace a while longer, because we could, and around mid-morning Gift arrived to take us down.

The drive from Livingstonia to Nkhata Bay is one of the most spectacular stretches of road I know. You come down off the northern highlands to the level of the lake, and the country changes completely in a few hours. Below Chitimba the road runs south along the shore, past fishing villages with nets drying in the sun and racks of small silver usipa laid out to dry along the roadside, the smell of them sharp as you pass. The road climbs inland to Mzuzu, the capital of the north, where we stopped, and we quickly went through the central market, a colourful maze of chitenje cloth and spices and fruit and very friendly traders. Then down again towards the lake through the Vizara rubber plantations, thousands of Hevea trees in perfect rows, each with its little cup tied to the trunk to catch the white latex. It suddenly looked like Malaysia or Vietnam, dropped into Malawi.

We had lunch in Mzuzu at the Macondo Camp, run by two Italians, Luca and Cecilia, where the pasta is made by hand. After weeks of nsima and rice, this was its own small shock: tagliatelle al ragù and tortelli al pomodoro, spaghetti all’amatriciana, around 50,000 kwacha. Somewhere over the plates I decided I wanted to do for Gift what he had done for us, to explain how and what Italians eat, now that he had taught us how to eat nsima. He had taught me to dip my porridge in his beef stew; the least I could do was tell him about ragù.

Down at Nkhata Bay we had a Safari beer together before he left. Over two days, Gift had been much more than a driver. He had been a guide and, by the end, a friend, someone who had handed us his country and clearly loved it. We paid him $80 for this second transfer, covered his meals, and tipped him well, and none of it felt like quite enough.

And then he was gone. This was the strange thing about the day. We were in the same country, looking at the same lake, and the perspective had completely turned over. In the morning we had been in a mountain forest, permaculture beds, and a woman who ran the front desk, a restaurant, and lived in both. By evening we were in a lakeside town turned towards travellers, boats and bars along the water. Same lake, a few hours apart.

Ren had told me about Nkhata Bay before we left the farm. He had spent nearly three months here, a week of it at the Butterfly Space, and loved it, though he warned me about the ferries on the lake, which run as late as the Tazara, delayed by days. It is a small port, he said, so passengers are taken out to the boat by little launches and have to climb up the side, and he had watched a Norwegian couple fall in the water doing it.

The Butterfly Space, where we were staying, is an eco-lodge on the rocky shore with the hills of Nkhata Bay rising behind, and it puts money into local projects, women’s groups, support for children and people with disabilities, and schooling. We were told it is connected to the Mushroom Farm, set up by the same people, which would explain why the two felt like cousins. We arrived at sunset. Our room was the beach house, a wooden stilt house out over the lake, with a big veranda, a hammock, a table and chairs. We swam and had dinner: rice and vegetables tonight, and the place was lovely and easy. Tomorrow we would have it properly.

Practical Notes

Where I stayed

The Butterfly Space, Nkhata Bay, on the rocky lakeshore. https://butterflyspacemalawi.com/
My take: An eco-lodge that funds local community projects, so a night here goes somewhere useful. Our room was a wooden stilt house over the water with a big veranda and a hammock. Easy, unhurried, a good mix of locals, travellers and expats. We were told it is connected to the Mushroom Farm, set up by the same people.

Previous night at The Mushroom Farm, Livingstonia (details in Day 10). Worth adding: the breakfast is genuinely excellent, the setting is the best of the trip, and the only internet is on Starlink at the bar, which makes it a good place to switch off. We wished we had planned several days here.

Where I ate

The Mushroom Farm breakfast: sweet French toast (12,000 MWK) and veggie fry up (18,000 MWK). Reputed to be the best breakfast in Malawi, and it lives up to it.
Macondo Camp, Mzuzu, run by two Italians, Luca and Cecilia. Hand-made pasta: tagliatelle al ragù, tortelli al pomodoro, spaghetti all’amatriciana. Around 50,000 MWK for the table. A genuine surprise in northern Malawi and a good lunch stop on this route.
The Butterfly Space, Nkhata Bay: dinner of rice and vegetables.

What I visited

The Mushroom Farm permaculture centre, Livingstonia. Described to us as the first permaculture project in Malawi, now involving many people from the village and a model elsewhere. Most of the farm is free to walk; the permaculture tour and some activities (wood carving and others) cost extra.
Mzuzu central market, a quick stop: chitenje cloth, spices, fruit, friendly traders.

Getting there

Livingstonia to Nkhata Bay, by car with Gift: $80, plus meals and a tip, via Chitimba, the lakeshore road, Mzuzu and the Vizara rubber plantations. Gift can be reached through the Mushroom Farm.
Note on the descent: there are direct walking paths down the escarpment (cutting across the hairpins) and minibuses along the lakeshore road, if you are not taking a private car. We chose the car to buy more time at the top.
Note on the lake ferries (reported, not our own experience): Ren, a long-staying traveller, told us the MV Ilala and other lake boats can run very late, sometimes days behind, and that at small ports passengers board from launches, which can be awkward. Worth factoring in if you plan to travel on by water.