Mushroom Farm Lodge - a weekend treat

Imagine flying. As humans, the closest we get to flying is by parachuting us down a plane, or by rolling down a hill on a glider or by kitesurfing on a lake. That's what I thought before I got to Mushroom farm lodge. 

I am writing from the coffee table outside cob house, my 'home' for the weekend and one that will probably stay in my memories for a long time. The sounds of the crickets has been incessant since 5am. I wonder when crickets go to sleep. The little patio outside the cob house opens into the valley. The drop should look scary. Rationally, it is scary given landslides afflict the area in a rainy season like this. Yet, I peacefully look down and I can't have enough of the view. Rolling mountains open under my eyes, covered by bushes and trees, tainted by muddy patches here and there to indicate... Well, the landslides. A few houses lie peacefully at the bottom of the valley, some patches of grass stand out where people have put the mountain coast at work for crops. Lake Malawi in the distance sets the boundaries of the land, although merging with the sky in a endless strip of bleu. I wish I had binoculars, but part of me is enjoying the blurriness of this impressionist painting I am in. It's wonderful and I want to jump over it. 

Mushroom farm lodge is an eco-lodge a bit out of Manchewe. A treat for backpackers travelling through Africa willing to rest and wind down. Options for accomodation are endless: there are safari tents next to mini dorms next to wooden houses set up on the cliff and somehow buried in the peacefulness of the trees. A central area hosts the restaurant, where only vegetarian food is served. I have missed my vegetables. I must admit: I have indulged on the cocktails on the menu, all made with products from the area. 

I wanted to go fancy for the weekend, but still fancy in a down to earth, scruffy style. The cob house is a structure made of clay mixed with hay. The roof sustained by wooden poles. Inside, it's cool. The usual benefit of houses made of clay. The bathroom, yet, is the real gem. A separate concrete building which is more like a terrace opened on the valley. A compostable toilet and a huge shower. I have been going to the bathroom a lot, surrounded by plants, just to look at the view.

Mushroom farm lodge offers a variety of activities to his guests. Hikes, coffee tours, wood crafting. Different wooden structures hidden in the trees host the different activities. I have booked myself for a massage yesterday morning. After drinking a whole french press of locally grown and locally roasted coffee and eating the tastiest muslie with passion fruit, watermelon and pineapple, I followed the 'woman from the village' who has come to give me a treat. We walked up a track, the path either muddy or slippery stones. Not sure how I thought wearing flipflops was a good idea. She was wearing flipflops as well, but she climbed up determined and with no fears to what looked like a stilt house on a cliff, where the 'massage' room was. Another balcony on the valley, hidden on the trees. A massage table waiting for me. I lied down and tried to relax, while my body was turned into mince meat. She covered me with a balm that smells of resin and she asked 'how is the pressure?'. Her fingers pushed down on my muscles and really, I should have said 'a bit too much'. But I kind of enjoyed going through this half masochistic treatment to release the tension and the stress of these last weeks. The crickets distracted me and there was a bird sounding like a cucu somewhere not too far away.

Mushroom farm lodge employs local people and partners with producers from the area who come to sell services and goods like honey, wood carving souvenirs and coffee. Everyone is a living smile. There is lot of singing. There is a library with books and board games. I smile when I see 'cards against humanity' on a shelf.

My plan for today is to try the hot tubs. The staff at the lodge tells me to go ahead from the cob house into the woods. I can see the tubs hanging on the cliffs. But as I meander into the trees, I get totally lost. I am on the wrong path. I reach a shed, and I get a scare when I find the biggest pig ever staring at me. It stands so immobile that I wonder if it's a statue. Then, it turns his head proving to be a living creature. I carry on and meet the chickens to then land in the gracious permaculture gardens. 

Someone from the staff rescues me and take me to the tub, down another muddy path. An actual bath tub is stuck into some bricks and a fire is set below it to warm up the water. It is too hot so I add cold water from the tub before immerging myself in it. I haven't brought a swimming suit, but the staff reassured me that I am meant to go in naked. I am here to follow the rules ;-) the smoke comes up to my face, I breath it because there is no escape and suddenly my whole Phd is turned into ashes!

I enjoy the view and relaxation for about 5' before I start feeling some drops. My brain is not fast enough to realise what is happening: the storm is here. It's not coming, because storms in Malawi don't give any warning. I am still stuck there contemplating if I should just stay there and be rained on or make my way back to the cob house. Ultimately, I am already wet. But there is nowhere for my phone to be dry and, most importantly, the rain is sooo strong that it beats against my face to the point I can't see anything. I get a bit scared, wrap myself in a towel and rush through the woods back to the cob house. Soaked. Somehow shaky as I slipped again on the muddy path. I sit still for 30' waiting for the rain to stop before getting changed and giving up on the tub. Even if the rain stops soon, the wood will be too wet to be lit again. What a waste, my efficiency -trained Western mind suggests. But then, I realise this is just the power of nature, so unexpected and beautiful that no one can control it.

I am sad: I am to head back to Mzuzu today. A little animal that looks like a squirrel stares at me looking sad too. There is so much more I would have liked to do when I was here: the hike to Chomba plateau, reading at the library, wondering in the permaculture gardens. Maybe even engaging a bit more with the pig. It didn't work out, but something tells me I will be back.