From Vwanza Marsh to Nkhata Bay

Sometime well into the night we were awakened by loud rustling, trampling of dry leaves, and the breathy exhalation of elephant sighs. Kate popped out of bed, peered through the reed mat window covers and in a whispered exclamation said, "Dona, you've got to come see this!" A group of 17 elephants grazed across the filed less than 2 meters from our noses, their trunks reaching high into the trees to find the choicest leaves to munch on, the babies staying close tot heir mothers finding comfort in her protections. A high, bright moon illuminated the scene, its light reflecting off the lake and blanketing the mighty creatures in a blue glow. We stood, stooped over the low windows watching in awe as the elephants went about their business, completely unfazed by the two sets of eyes examining them. I eventually tucked myself back in bed and drifted off to sleep to the sounds of the elephants parading around our hut.
At first light, we went for a guided walk through the park, spotting baboons, hippos, impalas, bush backs, and a few more elephants. Our armed guides didn't seem concerned that we were walking less than 5 feet from the waters edge, water that was teaming with hundreds of hippos, Africa's most lethal animal. It made me just a little nervous, but we made it out alive, unscathed, and full of adrenaline. After a leisurely breakfast back at camp, we packed up and caught a ride back to the junction for Nyaka National Park with our Italian friends. We piled ourselves intot he back of a truck with 30 other passengers and all of their luggage, propped ourselves on top of bags of dried fish, tied scarves around our heads, and took off down the road towards the park. Bumping along the road, I struggled to find something secure to hold on to, my bum scooting closer and closer to the cab's edge. I was able to wedge my foot between a few pieces of luggage, providing me with a little more balance and a sense of security that was probably misconceived. The locals laughed, their brilliant smiles lighting up their faces, as they watched us, 2 muzungus riding with them, crammed in there with them, sitting on top of their prized possessions, barreling down a dirt road, past their family and friends, their villages and their reality. There was a definite sense of pride, a commonality, a camaraderie that was exuded.
Unfortunately, the front axle of the truck broke and after coming to a grinding halt, we sat on the side of the road for 2 hours patiently waiting for the new part to arrive from town. Baking out in the sun, hungry, and rising irritability helped us to make the decision to nix the park and head for the beach instead. We caught a ride back to Rumphi in a rare passing vehicle, and after a series of minibuses and a couple of hours, Kate and I found ourselves in Nkhata Bay.
While buying a box of wine at the grocery store, I made friends with Harold, a British carpenter who has been building schools and playgrounds in the area for the past few months. Having friends who run a guest house, he offered to take us out the Butterfly Space, a relaxed, low-key, hippy place right on the water. Perfect. and so, here we are, enjoying the relaxed perfection of a tropical paradise. I can't wait to see this place during the day time. I can only imagine how beautiful it must be.