Day 280 Malawi 09/08/2011, Ilala Ferry to 'Big Blue Star Backpackers', Nkhata Bay. Slow boat to Nkhata Bay, a nice guest-house and a peculiar Austrian

It got really cold during the night, so we were glad of our sleeping bags. It was certainly peaceful though so we had a fairly restful sleep.

With sunrise came the first bit of entertainment on the boat; watching the life rafts being loaded with people, animals and cargo and then being ferried off to the shore. Many of the small villages are cut off from the road network and the water is too shallow for the boat to get close. The arrival of the ferry is obviously a big event as the beaches were lined with people ready to greet the new arrivals, and the goods that they bring, and more people waiting to board the boat. It is always entertaining to see a small boat with maximum 22 passengers written on the side, loaded with over 30 people and all their cargo.

The rest of the journey to Nkhata bay went slowly; the restaurant on board served surprisingly good food which was most welcome and the drinks from the bar were cold, if not served with any great enthusiasm. In the end though I would say that the journey we had taken was long enough. Taking the ferry all the way along the lake, for us at least, would have been too much. There is just too much hanging around involved, coupled with very little to do on the boat. A cabin would have been essential, but very expensive, as there is no real shade on the top deck other than around the bar.

Unloading our bikes from the ferry, followed much the same pattern as loading them. This time, working together, Thomas and I managed to unload the bikes onto the jetty with something approaching ease. If a tractor driver moving a trailer full of grain sacks hadn't been so hell bent on trying to ram us, loading and getting under way would have been pretty easy. Despite his shouting and revving of his engine, I held my ground and shouted back, refusing to move until I was ready. This didn't go down to well, but as the ferry was in port for at least 6 hours, we couldn't see what his rush was. Eventually with a scowl we pushed through the throngs of people desperate to board and manoeuvred past the tractor; we had arrived in Nkhata Bay.

As the port area and town seemed to be full of people we decided to push our bikes and head for a guest-house. Along the way we bumped into two more cycle tourists who had come to watch the ferry come in. We said hello and hoped to bump into them again. As we left the port, I was greeted by a staff member from 'Big Blue Star Backpackers', one of the guest-houses we had planned on looking at. As he was with us it seemed a good idea to go and have a look at what they were offering first. We are not sure whether this upset Thomas, but from then on he became somewhat strange. Meeting Kathy, a staff member, she showed us to a series of very nice rooms. Thomas meanwhile seemed somewhat agitated, bordering on rude. A beautiful reed hut, with a balcony overlooking the lake, had a lizard outside, was too near the water for Thomas and might have insects. The brick built hut that we had been offered was alright, but they didn't have another one for him. Once again being courteous we offered him the brick building and he seemed satisfied. To be honest the reed room was so nice that we really weren't that bothered.

So far, since meeting Thomas I have given up two rooms, a mosquito net and my bed sheets, because his were too dirty! Worse was yet to come when he realised that the guest-house didn't provide towels or soap. We have never met a traveller let alone a cycle tourist who doesn't travel with their own towel or soap. From seeming quite friendly, his behaviour was becoming stranger and stranger. After we had got settled, we helped Thomas to carry his luggage (no thanks were forthcoming) we sat down to have a drink. Thomas meanwhile wanted to go into town, so we lent him our guidebook as he wanted to do some photocopying. Thinking that we would be helpful, we asked the staff where a photocopying place was. They told us that it might be difficult to find, but one of the staff would explain to Thomas where it was. On hearing this, Thomas' response was 'I am not a child' and he stormed off to the somewhat startled look of the helpful staff. We can't be certain what we did to offend him, but aside from the return of our book and a guarded 'I do not like it here!' we haven't heard anything else from him.

That said we did have a small moan at him when he returned with a bag of sweets for the kids. We had always wondered who the people were who were stupid enough to hand out sweets to street children, and now we know. Knowing how uncomfortable he was around the children outside the ferry port, we can only assume he is going to use them to ward off the kids by throwing them at them; a bit like meat thrown to an aggressive dog. We look forward to following him down the road and having children demanding sweets from us! It is unbelievable how irresponsible some supposedly educated and travelled people can be!

By the time we had had dinner and a few beers, we decided to call it a night. The ferry experience over the last few days had caught up with us. Tomorrow we plan to go to Mzuzu and hopefully get our internet sorted.

Day 279 Malawi 08/08/2011, Bush House Chizga Rest-house, Chilumba. Repairs, a walk on the beach and a certain amount of hanging around.

The guest-house may have been a bit rubbish, but we both slept quite well. It was certainly peaceful after the continual noise of our hotel in Karonga.

For some reason I have forgotten to mention in my last few blogs that I have been nursing a slightly buckled rear wheel. Probably caused on the stretch of unsealed road between Babati and Kondoa. This morning, I went to have a look at my wheel and discovered that I have two broken spokes! It looked like we would be giving any cycling a miss today, as I would have to make an attempt to replace the spokes and straighten the wheel. A job that I have been dreading since we set off; I understand the principle of wheel truing but actually doing it is a whole other thing. Working as carefully as I could, I am quite pleased with how straight I have got the wheel. I am just not certain how tensioned the spokes are supposed to be. I am not convinced that I am going to find someone capable of rebuilding my wheel this side of South Africa. With a bit of luck I have repaired it well enough that I will have no further problems, but I will be keeping a close eye.

The repairs took a bit less time than I expected, but we still decided to stay put, as did Thomas. We told him to go on without us but he decided that he may as well stay here. Knowing the way Africa time seems to work, it would be just our luck that the ferry would arrive early and be gone by the time we got back!

Some time during mid-morning the ticket guy arrived at the guest-house to tell us that the ferry had left Nkhata bay and was on its way. We are now expecting it sometime around 8pm. It looks like we wouldn't have had to worry about missing the boat after all.

With not much else to do, we had a wander down to the beach and dipped our toes into the water. It will be nice to get to one of the beach resorts, so we can have a proper swim.

By now it was midday and the temperature had risen dramatically, so we had a slow walk back to the guest-house. Fingers crossed that there are no more delays, because we really have exhausted the things to do. Having said that, I still haven't had a haircut, the recommended barbers has been closed all day, perhaps I should wait until Nkhata Bay!

A quick update, 8pm came and went and we were left sitting on the grass outside the ferry port waiting for a seemingly non-existent ferry. By now we are used to this, we seem to have had a bad run of luck when it comes to ferries. The only one that has actually gone when we expected, was the ferry that we left England on! At least we were coping better than Thomas, who had taken to pacing around and swearing about the ferry. When we found ourselves surrounded by children, our white skin glows like a beacon in the dark, it all got too much for him and he went off to sit on his own. Interspersed with the now expected 'give me money'; 'give me torch'; 'buy me water or food' and the rather hopeful 'give me your bike' we chatted away to what were basically friendly if somewhat over exuberant children. Bearing in mind that Thomas is a school teacher we were a little surprised that he couldn't cope, Austrian children are obviously a lot better behaved! The only problem with being surrounded by the kids with their occasionally grabby hands, was that we had been left with Kerry (an Australian guy) and his two friends luggage. We had no problem looking after it, we just didn't know he was going to be gone for so long. The boat was now expected at around 10:30pm and at about 10pm we were called to bring our bikes and luggage through the gates so that we could board first. There was no sign of Kerry, so not wanting to leave the luggage behind with the expectant looking kids, we took it with us. When they eventually returned, there was no thanks for moving their bags at all. Despite the fact that two rucksacks and another two bags on top of our bikes wasn't particularly easy to move. You really do wonder why you bother to help some people!

Loading our bikes on the ferry turned out to be tougher than promised. Instead of letting us on first as they had told us, they let everyone flood towards the ferry. They did call us to the front, but by now the gangplank was surrounded by people and we had to force our way through, only to find out that our loaded bikes were too wide to fit through the gap. Some shoving and pushing later and a certain amount of effort on Thomas' part ended with the bikes safely stowed on the forecastle. Getting our luggage up onto the top deck involved another scrum, but eventually we were safely on board. Six of us had the whole first class top deck to ourselves. We each hired a mattress, a large piece of foam, and settled down for the night. It has been a very long 30 hours since we arrived in Chilumba, but at least we were finally under way!

Day 278 Malawi 07/08/2011, Safari Lodge, Karonga – Chilumba ferry port. 50.92miles/82.32km, 5hrs47minutes, Av 8.8mph.

Ear plugs were definitely the way forward last night as 'Planet Club', the source of the loud music for the last few nights, banged on until 6am this morning. Just to make sure that we hadn't had a noise free night, the staff then started shouting at each other shortly afterwards. I for one though was shattered last night and managed sleep through the worst of it!

Just for a touch of variety we had egg and chips for breakfast, except this time they had run out of coffee. Just as well that we have our own supply, because I didn't fancy tea with watered down hot milk. Having dragged getting ready out as long as possible we finally hit the road at about 9:30am.

When we first entered Malawi we were straight into a headwind and we are pleased to say that nothing has changed since then! Our 80km trip was to be accompanied by that, favourite to cyclists, headwind for the duration of the journey. Sadly it was also accompanied by the cries of 'give me money', it isn't just the border region then! We have come to the conclusion that in school English lessons, before they even learn hello, they are taught the sentence 'give me money'. Other variations that we encountered are 'give me my money', 'give me your money' and one particularly hopeful 'give me all your money'! The adults clearly didn't want to be outdone by the children; one went for the 'hello' followed by a hand-out routine; another woman demanded quite aggressively 'give me 100 kwacha!' and one of a group of guys who had previously ignored our hellos ran down the road trying to get our attention, when we stopped, thinking maybe we had dropped something, he held out his hand and said 'give me money'. We both simultaneously called him an idiot and he trotted back to his friends. It looks like this going to be the soundtrack to our time on the road in Malawi. The obvious solution seems to be to plug our headphones in, turn up the music and not bother speaking to anyone. That of course would be to ignore the genuinely friendly part of the population, of which we have encountered quite a few. It does also appear that the kids don't always know what they are asking. If you counter their questions with a 'why', they grin and look puzzled. When Debs actually stopped when some kids were pursuing her and asking for money, they looked terrified and ran off. Malawi is taking some figuring out!

Having struggled our way against the wind for what seemed like ages we eventually arrived in Chilumba, or at least we would have if we hadn't missed the unsigned junction. Having to ride back up a hill we had just gone down wasn't in the day's plans! Quickly we were back on track and followed the road down to the ferry port. There was no boat at the jetty, but being early we didn't expect to see one just yet. What we didn't expect to be told was that it was running late and wouldn't be here until 4:30am. We were in for a long wait, which got longer when the ticket guy turned up and explained that the boat was actually a day late and wouldn't arrive until 7pm tomorrow! We declined his suggestion to sleep in the waiting room, instead asking after a guest-house. Which is how we have come to end up in a cheap and not particularly cheerful place on the edge of town. The toilets are especially less than cheerful, as is the fact that we have had to have two rooms, due to the fact that despite their insistence, we will not both fit in a single bed! In fairness, the ticket guy has been really helpful, he took us to the guest-house, found us some food and has generally made sure we are alright. While waiting for dinner, the ticket guy turned up with another cycle tourist, Thomas from Austria, who was even more disappointed with the accommodation as he had just left a nice lodge that was only 18km away. We ended up doing what any sane person would in the situation, which is to go to the local bar. A few beers later and the guest-house looked a lot better.

Instead of hanging around all day tomorrow, it looks like we will accompany Thomas back to the lodge that he had been staying at and spend the day on the beach. There seems to be very little to do in Chilumba, although I desperately need to have a haircut and the ticket guy recommended a barbers to me. I will have to see if I am sufficiently psyched up to chance my first African haircut!

Day 187 Jordan/Egypt 24/3/2011, Aqaba – Nuweiba – Dahab. 46.01miles/73.47km, 4hr39minutes, Av 9.9mph, Max speed 41mph!

Somewhere around 1:30am the ferry finally moved and we were on our way to Egypt. Following a certain amount of contortionist moves, we managed to find a marginally comfortable way to lay on the seats and drifted off at about 2am. By 5am we were awake and the ferry had stopped just outside the port. While we were waiting we had some breakfast and availed ourselves of the frankly disgusting toilet facilities. Bearing in mind that the ferry ticket for a foot passenger is $60, you would think there might be somebody who actually cleans the ferry.

Somewhere just before 6am we were allowed to disembark. We retrieved our bikes and headed down the ramp and into the equally un-signposted Nuweiba port. Eventually we found the customs area and had a bit of a shock when we had to remove all our bags and put them through the x-ray machine.

By 6:30am we were reloaded and on the road in Egypt. By 6:35am we were reflecting that 3 hours of sleep on an uncomfortable chair wasn't the ideal preparation for the 70km ride to Dahab, especially as the first 20km was climbing! At least being early the traffic was light and the temperature wasn't too high.

Eventually we made it to the top and stopped for a break before the long descent to Dahab. During the break we learned what could be a valuable lesson while riding in Egypt, the edge of the road is deep sand. If we slide off the road, the chances of remaining upright are slim.

After our last promised downhill turned into something of a disappointment, we were thankfully rewarded this time with nearly 50km of downhill or flat road. With a helpful tailwind we raced along until we reached Dahab, encountering the first check points of our trip along the way. These are quite common in Egypt, although the ones we encountered today were content with just knowing where we were going and where we were from.

The last few kilometres into Dahab were against the wind, but driven on by our desire to get to a hotel and have a sleep, we soon got to the town. We needed a bit of help to find our hotel but it wasn't long before we were checked into our home for the next week the 'Dahab Plaza Hotel'.

The late night and cycling caught up with us after we checked into the room and we both fell straight asleep. It will be really nice to have nothing to do for the next week, other than eat, drink, sleep and do some planning for the road ahead. Unless something really exciting happens I will write one blog for our time here. Take care all, the pool and a beer beckons!

Day 186 Jordan 23/3/2011, Aqaba. 8.97miles/14.39km, 51minutes, Av 10.3mph.

We held out leaving the hotel for as long as possible this morning, eventually packing up around 11am.

To kill the time before going to the ferry terminal, we rode along the hillier than expected coast road to Club Murjan. For a fee you can use the facilities; pool, sun loungers, showers etc. Unfortunately the club closes just after 5pm or when the last of the divers head back to the main city. We only found this information out when we went to order some food at around 3:30pm, which was a shame as we were hoping to stay a bit later and then get to the ferry port shortly after sunset.

Despite the fact that we had to leave early we met some nice people at the club. Rohan from Sea Star watersports was especially helpful and as promised he emailed us with information about Sharm and Dahab.

With not many options available to us, we headed down to the awfully signposted ferry terminal. With at least 5 hours to kill before we were likely to be able to board, we went to pay our departure tax and get stamped out of Jordan. Having used up almost 15 minutes of our waiting time, we settled for a long evening of people watching.

The ferry terminal certainly isn't the most comfortable place to wait if you are female. Debs was one of very few women there, in fact the only other one that we saw never got out of her car. The terminal may not have been as entertaining as previous experiences we have had waiting for late night trains in India, but it still provided plenty of interest.

Watching a man tie luggage to his car was quite a spectacle, especially as by the time he had finished the amount fixed to the roof seemed bigger than the car.

Outside the terminal building we sat amongst the truckers and passengers watching one of four competing TV sets, each one with the volume set to deafen. Even as non Arabic speakers we couldn't help but be intrigued by the Bollywood style film that was showing on the nearest set to us. The movie was filled with hilarious dancing, and characters and songs that could be only described as camp. It certainly seemed to have everybody glued to the screen.

As the night wore on there were numerous announcements in Arabic where people would get up and leave. Obviously these meant nothing to us, so we contented ourselves with getting ready to leave as soon as we saw the cars move.

At about 10:30pm a bus arrived and people started hurrying towards their cars, so we quickly joined them. Following the traffic straight ahead, I mentioned that there were no signs, we were directed around a long queue of lorries. When we arrived at a lorry sized x-ray machine it looked like we had gone the wrong way. With a bit of gesturing from some lorry drivers we rode through the machine and got stopped by a slightly bemused security guard. A quick passport check and a look at our tickets and he suddenly said “oh you are going to Egypt”, we hadn't been aware we could be going anywhere else! We were ushered on, then stopped again and eventually pointed towards a ferry. By the way that the bus carrying foot passengers was already outside, we have to assume that we took the wrong route to the boat.

Outside the boat our passports were checked again and we were directed into an entirely empty car deck. A deck hand then pointed up a ramp to the higher deck. Arriving at a no less empty upper deck we stopped, unaware of what we were supposed to do now. The deck hand obviously realised that we had been up there for a long time and appeared up the ramp and pointed vaguely towards a wall where we could leave the bikes. With some careful propping we left them relatively secure and headed down to the main deck. Via a ticket inspection we were finally on board a somewhat dilapidated ferry.

Having managed to get ourselves two relatively comfy looking seats each, we settled in for the long journey. Having not long sat down, there was another announcement in Arabic and people started leaving. Going out to investigate I came across a large queue of people waiting outside two glass windows. Asking a crew member what was going on I was informed that it was Egyptian immigration. Going back to tell Debs, I grabbed my passport and went to join the queue. Having already got a visa I managed to get stamped into Egypt after a little confusion with the non English speaking immigration officer. Quite why he thought I only wanted to go to Sinai when I clearly had a full Egyptian visa is a mystery.

While I had been queueing Debs had been defending our seats; an empty seat is fair game on the ferry it seems, even if your stuff is left on it. I wasn't entirely comfortable with Debs having to queue in the middle of the night, on her own, surrounded by men but if we wanted to keep our seats there was no choice. Fortunately it seems women get preferential treatment and she was ushered to the front of the queue. The immigration officer was now familiar with our situation so she encountered none of the confusion that I had.

Back at the seats with TVs blaring we settled down to try and get some sleep; we had the feeling it was going to be a very long night.