I stepped off the over-night ferry into Dar Es Salaam with Esther at 6am, bleary-eyed and lost, and we started off oh so sensibly by walking aimlessly in a random direction of our choice. Once our brains kicked in and woke up, we realised we should probably head back to the port where all the taxis were and get one to the Tazara train station so we could get our tickets for later that day: my "booking" had been made by sending a text to the friend of the bartender of Kae Funk, and we were slightly apprehensive as to whether it had gone through. It turns out we should have had faith - after waiting for the station to open, we went to the counter and gave our names to the lady there who seemed to have our details and told us to return at 2pm for a 4pm departure. We had yet to eat, so we put our bags in storage and grabbed a pagage (rickshaw) back in to town. By this time it was 9-ish and Dar was quickly approaching melting-temperatures so we were eager to find somewhere indoors. After much wandering and many conflicting directions, we found a busy local restaurant serving a strange breakfast of curries, chapatis, samosas, other fried things… We sat and had some coffee and fried things, hydrated, and as we had both already been in Dar once, we decided that we just wanted to find anywhere we could relax and stay out of the heat of the city. Returning from the loos, Esther's face lit up with excitement: walled-off from the rest of the restaurant was an area of mattresses and cushions spread out on the floor - just what we were after! So my second day in Dar was spent lying in a restaurant snoozing and reading, and occasionally ordering more food - winning! At 2pm, we diligently returned to the train station, which was now much busier than it had been, and waited for the announcement to board the train. As a voice came over the tannoy and everyone eagerly looked up, we were told that the expected departure time had changed to 8pm. With now more hours to kill, but back out at the train station, we strolled around the streets in the area, had more food at a local restaurant - mbili chipsi kuku (two chicken and chips) which they were very entertained by me ordering in Swahili - and then traced our steps back. This was easier said than done as it was now dark and the combination of stalls and people everywhere, with the odd motorbike and occasional dalla dalla driving down the pavement to keep us on our toes, made the return walk a whole new experience!

Eventually on the train, we found ourselves sharing a cabin with two Tanzanian girls. The cabin was almost identical to the one I'd been in from Cape Town to Jo'burg, and I automatically climbed up to the top bunk and stashed away my bag. The next 24 hours were spent reading, sleeping, wandering, waiting, looking out of windows, and chatting. When we were approaching Mbeya, I started to become impatient and asked one of the train's stewards how long there was left. "Half an hour". Half an hour later, I asked someone else when they reckoned we would be arriving at Mbeya. When he told me "half an hour", I must admit that I lost the plot a bit, and my hysterical laughter prompted a combination of amusement and concern amongst my cabin-mates. When we eventually arrived, we queued up behind ladies carrying massive suitcases on their heads, boxes of live chickens, the usual, and filed into a dark and empty parking lot. Managing to get to our accommodation eventually, along with a Dutch couple, the man behind the desk decided to up the price of our room (but not the couple's) - so instead of having one each we shared one, and ended up paying less than we would have anyway: that showed him!

The next morning, we woke up early with every good intention to get on the road ASAP… but then we found a place that served us the biggest breakfast I've ever seen which included some kind of liver curry, then got lost on the way back to pick up our bags, so it was around 11 by the time we got the dalla dalla to the border. The bus dropped us off about a kilometer away, and we walked the rest of the way relatively hassle-free, getting our visas without a problem. The trouble was on the other end, knowing how to get to the next town - in the end, after many questions asked and dubious proposals, we got into a shared taxi and headed on our way. The car was falling apart (literally one door was falling off) and as we kept picking people up, it was getting more and more packed - in fact every time we approached a police checkpoint (there are a bunch of these along the roads here), excess people would have to get out and walk, then get picked up on the other side of the checkpoint. Genius! The taxi didn't quite manage to get us all the way to our destination and we changed to an equally rickety minibus (Malawian equivalent of dalla dalla or matatu) to finally get us to Karonga. I still wanted to head further south to Mzuzu, so we got some cash and headed onwards, although this meant we didn't arrive at our destination until about 10pm. Once there, we were swamped with taxi drivers offering us lifts to where we wanted to go, and while Esther was keen to haggle, I was reluctant to walk into a dark unfamiliar city, so after much standing around and shaking of heads, I made an executive decision and took the closest taxi there. Arriving in Mzoozoozoo, we were greeted by Graham, who was taking care of the place while it's owner was away and kindly made us sandwiches (we hadn't eaten since our massive breakfast). Here we also met Chad, who was researching Malawi's tobacco industry for his thesis, a moustachioed duo called Valentino and Sebastian, and an Israeli called Eli, as well as a couple of grumpy old men who seemed to be pretty permanent installments there. We stayed up for a bit chatting and exchanging funny travelling stories before heading to bed.

The next day, I had some admin to do - bus station for my ticket to Lilongwe, sorting out a local phone, post office - and was relieved to be in a town big enough to have those things but small enough to easily find my way around. Walking along the backstreets of Mzuzu, I could hear Kenny Rogers' Gambler (Reggae version, obviously) playing somewhere and smell the sweetcorn on the fires, and was really rather cheerful! (I also had the hugest slice of cake and a coffee which were amazing and could have influenced my mood!) That evening we again had some great chats with the others staying there, played more Kenny Rogers and some Queen before Bill (I think that was his name - he was one of the grumpy oldies) forever changed the meaning of most of their songs as he claimed they were all about AIDS (Don't Stop Me Now, Killer Queen, Another One Bites The Dust…)!

The next day, I said goodbye to the moustachioed duo as they were heading onwards, and joined Esther to Nkata Bay. This was about an hour's minibus ride from Mzuzu, during which we surreally listened to a book review on the BBC World Service - they don't lie about the "world" thing! Arriving to Butterfly, where Esther would be staying (after getting a short lift from a Danish couple) we headed to the little beach by Lake Malawi and had a swim. It was odd to be in fresh (cold) water after the salty warm Indian Ocean of Zanzibar, and it felt good to come out of the water feeling clean. After lunch at nearby Mayoka, I had to head back to Mzuzu as I wanted to get back before dark and had an early morning bus to Lilongwe to catch the next day. Another lovely chilled-out evening was spent there, although I ended up giving marital advice to a member of the Malawian army, who claimed to be a Buddhist while also strongly insinuating that he beat his wife. Needless to say, I wasn't hugely sympathetic and tried in the nicest of ways to tell him to man up and stop being an idiot.

The bus ride to the capital the next day was unbelievably quick, easy, and on time, and I was sitting next to a Malawian who used to work for the World Bank and lived in DC for a long time, so the interesting chat helped time to pass. I got to Mabuya Camp, where I was due to meet Heather and spend the night, feeling exhausted and a little disoriented - I put it down to the last few days' travelling and lack of sleep. A few hours later, I met Heather and Nyomi, the other volunteer at Landirani Trust (or African Vision Malawi). Heather was born in Malawi and founded the organization after visiting her home years later and feeling the need to help the vulnerable people in poor villages help themselves. Nine years later, the organization has done great work encompassing water sanitation, health, education, orphans and vulnerable children, and people with disabilities, and is in the midst of building a training village in the area in which they work. After meeting with them, chatting about how I would be getting involved and being shown the office and the room I could stay in with Nyomi, I was looking forward to getting stuck in the next day, but absolutely knackered - I had dinner and went straight to bed hoping to feel awake and alert in the morning. I had arrived, was about to embark on my second stint of volunteering, and was looking forward to settling in to life in Lilongwe for a good few weeks!