Over the past few weeks, I’ve been working on my next book, Run Away to Malawi. I’m about halfway through the manuscript, and one thing has surprised me.
As I revisit my journals and photographs, I’ve realized just how many stories never made it onto my blog. There are dozens of moments from the journey that were never fully told. Some photographs appeared in the sidebar of Longdaysafaris.com with little or no explanation, but every one of them has a story behind it.
One memory that found its way into the book was a conversation with a cyclist I met along the road in Malawi.
His bicycle wasn’t loaded with camping gear like mine. Instead, it was piled high with supplies. He explained that he owned three small shops in different villages. Rather than sitting behind a counter, he spent his days riding from village to village delivering stock. He employed people to run the shops while he managed the business from the saddle of his bicycle.
His main products were simple essentials: sugar, flour, and coffee. Items that every family needed.
Another detail I had forgotten was what happened when you bought a bottle of soda. You couldn’t simply walk away with it. The bottle had value. You drank your soda at the shop and returned the empty bottle so it could be sent back for a deposit.

That also explained something I noticed throughout my journey.
The children who ran out to greet me weren’t just waving. Many would ask if I had any empty bottles. To them, those bottles were useful. They carried drinking water to the fields, stored drinking water at home, and found countless ways to reuse them.
Very little went to waste.
In many of the rural villages, there was almost no litter. Things were repaired, reused, repurposed, or eventually burned. Nothing was thrown away simply because it was old.
These are the kinds of stories that don’t always fit into a daily travel blog, but together they paint a richer picture of life in Malawi.
I’m looking forward to sharing many more of these moments in Run Away to Malawi. I think you’ll discover that the journey was about far more than cycling from one place to another—it was about the people, their ingenuity, and the lessons they unknowingly taught me along the way.






