MVUU LODGE

AFRICA 2006

Mvuu Lodge had been recommended by Ellen who ran Kafunta’s bush camp - she had been Assistant Manager some years ago. It was set above the river with its bar and restaurant both having views over the slowly moving water fringed by tall reeds. Down the bank were a dozen or so small chalets with small balconies overlooking the water but the campsite was set behind these - with no view of the water. Having been warned that an overland truck was due later in the afternoon, we quickly set up camp to establish our claim to a piece of shade. We tucked the tent under a tree at the edge of a thicket and the Disco next to the braii stand. Sitting having a drink and snack, the leaves on the floor rustled as a small troop of Vervet monkeys moved through keeping an eye on us - or more probably what we were eating. When the truck did arrive, we ended up surrounded by their tents and a crowd of German speakers. This wasn’t too much of a problem until I had to try to drive out to go for an afternoon drive and there were a number of nervous Teutonic glances as I narrowly missed a number of tents. Having seen little game on the drive up from the gate along the edge of the flood plain, we decided to head further inland. This proved even less fruitful - apart from a couple of Elephant and lovely herd of Sable: these are large antelope with big horns curving back over their heads with the older bulls being jet black.

Back at the campsite, I negotiated the German campsite in the growing dark - in reverse to the consternation of those watching. The Lodge had its swimming pool close to where we had camped - it had the usual umbrellas and chairs and was surrounded by a fence made from the local reeds and this had a number of openings for paths to other parts of the lodge. Next to the pool were the toilets for the campsite and in the darkness as Pat walked to bush her teeth, she noticed a dark bulk come through the fence on a path converging with hers. It sounded as if, although she wasn’t chased, she just beat the Elephant to the toilet door. During the night we heard the Elephant crashing through the thicket at the back of the tent and at about 0200, something woke we and, as I looked out through the mosquito net, an Elephant walked between me and the Disco - soundless but intimating.

The following morning we had booked ourselves on a river safari/cruise. In addition to us and the guide, there were three young Americans in a wooden boat with sun awning. Off we set cruising the reeds that edged river - in addition to the ver present and unconcerned Hippos, we saw Water Monitors, a colony of Gulls and African Skimmers, Crocs, Malachite Kingfishers, Fish Eagles: many more animals and birds than we had seen driving around. Probably the highlight was approaching a small herd of Elephant very closely - they seemed to completely ignore the boat apart from a teenage cow who wasn’t too sure and shook her head at us. There was a big with the herd and, even though we approached within a boat’s length, he seemed to completely ignore us.

As we bobbed along we were escorted by Wire-Tailed Swallows who buzzed around the bow and occasionally flew under the awning. Finally we noticed that they had stated building a nest on one of the awning supports. They would flit in to deposit a small amount of mud and then fly off again - it was impressive how they re-found us as the boat travelled along. One of the other common birds were White Breasted Cormorants which seemed to spend all their time patrolling up and down the river. Eventually we came across their colony in a clump of palm trees at the river’s edge - their fronds looked as if they were white instead of green: they were, all recoloured with the bird’s droppings. The smell and noise meant that you were well aware of it way before you came across it.

Back in camp Pat decided that my store of oranges was getting too long in the tooth and decided to squeeze them for fresh juice. This soon attracted the attention of the resident Vervet Monkeys who ended up almost snatching the discarded half-fruits as soon as she had finished with them. I spent an entertaining few minutes trying to chase them away but all they did was to climb to the top of the trees and challenge me to throw sticks as high as they had climbed. After a while I gave up and hid the peel in the bottom of the oil drum waste bin - a great idea until a big Baboon came past and turned it on its side and, having sucked a few, distributed the rest over the sand much to the delight of the monkeys.

That afternoon we decided to explore in a different direction - along the river to the North of the camp. The principal road had a number of loops off it - some clear and others just a suggestion that somebody else had explored that way. At the end of each was either the riverbank or a view across its flood plains. There wasn’t much in the way of game - just the odd Waterbuck and Warthog - the highlight being a trio of Southern Ground Hornbills. They strutted through the bush in a very superior manner, searching for frogs, snakes and insects, fluttering their long eyelids: big black Turkey sized birds with a scarlet throat and eye patches. Although we weren’t visited by Ele that night - or at least they didn’t wake us walking past - there was some trumpeting and crashing in the trees behind us.

On the way out of the Park the next morning we stopped off to have a look at the other Lodge which was in its Southern part. I seemed quite run down and certainly had neither the welcome nor the location (it was on a bush covered hillside rather than by the river) of Mvuu. We headed into town - Lilondwe - as I wanted to top up with both money and fuel. Finding the fuel wasn’t a problem but a bank that was open or with an ATM that accepted my cards was impossible. Having given up on the money, we stopped at one of the roadside markets for Pat to look at the carved seats. Whilst she was browsing and smoozing the sellers, I crossed the road to have a look around the local food market. A maze of little stalls selling all manner of local produce - including silver mounds of freshly caught little fish.