Dedza is about an hour south of Lilongwe, but far enough that it's in the mountains (ok, hills really, but still). The main attraction is this huge pottery compound (for lack of a better word) that has a nice cafe attached. The trip down was fine--it was my first time at the minibus station in Lilongwe, so that was a trip. Otherwise, it was your usual crowded minibus. We got off a little past where we should have and walked back. It was nice being up in the hills--different topography and greenery (evergreens) made it feel a bit like the pacific northwest. The pottery place was up a long dirt road and had nice grass, gardens, walkways, signs, etc. It still felt like Malawi, but just really well groomed Africa. I can't think of a better way to describe it.
The pottery shop itself was a bust, but the cafe's food was good. To say that the service was slow is an understatement--our meal took about 2.5 hours--but there was a great view of the grounds and of the mountain nearby. It was cold and cloudy, so after 2.5 hours outside, we needed to get moving.
We walked toward town. And walked, and walked. We could have gone back to the main road and waited for a minibus, but it seemed to make more sense to find the bus station and catch one there. About an hour later, we found a minibus that was empty (seeing Dedza along the way was worth the walk), but got in anyway. By this point, it was 4:45 and going to be dark soon, so we didn't want to mess around any longer so we took the first one we could find. The minibus was one of the most dilapidated ones I've seen--Heather's window was strips of tape, and to open the door on the side, the door guy had to reach his hand in this hole cut in the door panel to pull on this coat hanger thing and yank the door open, which often caused it to fall out of the track entirely. I just kept thinking about car commercials toting the side-impact airbags and safety rating of the vehicles from home. After driving around Dedza for half an hour with the door guy shouting "LILONGWE" out the window, we got on the road at only about one-third full. We filled along the way, which meant a lot of stops. It got typically full (they seat 20 no matter what size you are or how much stuff you have with you) and about half way up, the door guy gets out and a deputy takes his place for the next half hour before he gets off. From then on, the driver has to stop the car, get out, come around, open the window, reach in, pull the coat hanger and yank to open the door. Along the way there was some big dude next to me who kept calling everyone/thing stupid--they'd be talking in chichewa and then he'd declare, "ah, he is stuupid" and the conversation would resume in chichewa--and the guy who tried to get in at the police road block and then got thrown out by the police, only to walk across the roadblock and get in again, only to get thrown out (with another passenger) by the driver. And the ubiquitous chicken on someone's lap, that we didn't know was there until it started squawking at the guy who tried to get in at the roadblock. Heather rightly suggested it was like Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure--we were just waiting for Abe Lincoln to show up. 2.5 hours later, we're back in Lilongwe. There's nothing to do but soak it all in
Once off the bus, we quickly get in a cab and meet people for dinner. Delicious Indian food made it all wash away.
The pottery shop itself was a bust, but the cafe's food was good. To say that the service was slow is an understatement--our meal took about 2.5 hours--but there was a great view of the grounds and of the mountain nearby. It was cold and cloudy, so after 2.5 hours outside, we needed to get moving.
We walked toward town. And walked, and walked. We could have gone back to the main road and waited for a minibus, but it seemed to make more sense to find the bus station and catch one there. About an hour later, we found a minibus that was empty (seeing Dedza along the way was worth the walk), but got in anyway. By this point, it was 4:45 and going to be dark soon, so we didn't want to mess around any longer so we took the first one we could find. The minibus was one of the most dilapidated ones I've seen--Heather's window was strips of tape, and to open the door on the side, the door guy had to reach his hand in this hole cut in the door panel to pull on this coat hanger thing and yank the door open, which often caused it to fall out of the track entirely. I just kept thinking about car commercials toting the side-impact airbags and safety rating of the vehicles from home. After driving around Dedza for half an hour with the door guy shouting "LILONGWE" out the window, we got on the road at only about one-third full. We filled along the way, which meant a lot of stops. It got typically full (they seat 20 no matter what size you are or how much stuff you have with you) and about half way up, the door guy gets out and a deputy takes his place for the next half hour before he gets off. From then on, the driver has to stop the car, get out, come around, open the window, reach in, pull the coat hanger and yank to open the door. Along the way there was some big dude next to me who kept calling everyone/thing stupid--they'd be talking in chichewa and then he'd declare, "ah, he is stuupid" and the conversation would resume in chichewa--and the guy who tried to get in at the police road block and then got thrown out by the police, only to walk across the roadblock and get in again, only to get thrown out (with another passenger) by the driver. And the ubiquitous chicken on someone's lap, that we didn't know was there until it started squawking at the guy who tried to get in at the roadblock. Heather rightly suggested it was like Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure--we were just waiting for Abe Lincoln to show up. 2.5 hours later, we're back in Lilongwe. There's nothing to do but soak it all in
Once off the bus, we quickly get in a cab and meet people for dinner. Delicious Indian food made it all wash away.
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