Malawi is a landlocked country in southeastern Africa. Endowed with spectacular highlands and extensive lakes, it occupies a narrow, curving strip of land along the East African Rift Valley. Lake Nyasa, known in Malawi as Lake Malawi, accounts for more than one-fifth of the country’s total area.
We took a 10-day tour of Malawi that included visiting two wildlife reserves, a high-forest plateau, a beautiful island on Lake Malawi an stopping on a tea plantation. It was an amazing journey and one we will never forget.
Malawi: Liwonde National Park
🚪 Through the Gates and Onto the Shire
We finally rolled up to the gates of Liwonde National Park, and blimey, what a difference from the entrances at Masai Mara or the Serengeti, which if you’ve ever been are great big grand affairs with proper gatehouses, ticket booths and the works, the sort of thing that makes you feel like you’re entering a stadium rather than a wilderness. This was nothing like that at all. It was just a simple set of gates, the sort you might find at the bottom of someone’s farm back home in Kent, and a lady popped her head out of the little building next door and opened them up for us without so much as a fuss. No queue, no palaver, no man in a smart uniform checking a clipboard, just in we went, which after the grander parks we’d already visited felt almost refreshingly modest. We pottered along for about a kilometre, the dust kicking up behind the wheels and settling on everything we owned, and arrived at the banks of the Shire River, which we recognised straight away from our time at Majete a few days earlier. Funny how a river follows you about like that, popping up again hundreds of miles downstream as if it had never let you out of its sight. This stretch of the Shire, though, is a different beast altogether from what we’d seen before. At Majete it was narrower and had a bit of pace to it, all rushing and tumbling over rocks, whereas here at Liwonde it widens right out and slows down to something altogether more lazy and languid, more like the Thames on a Sunday afternoon than anything with rapids in it, the kind of river that looks like it’s in no particular hurry to get anywhere. We parked up the car, and a very nice young lady came over to help us get the bags sorted, and she called across the water to Mvuu Camp on her radio to get them to send a boat over for us, which we thought was rather smart organisation for somewhere so out of the way, miles from anything resembling a proper road.
When the boat eventually puttered across, we were introduced to a chap called McCloud, who turned out to be our guide for the next two days, and a thoroughly good one at that. The crossing itself only takes about five minutes when you go in a straight line, but McCloud wasn’t one for going in a straight line when there were things to see, so we took a couple of little detours to have a look at some hippos bobbing about and one enormous crocodile who, the second he clocked us coming anywhere near him, slid off the bank and vanished into the river without so much as a splash. Naturally we had the camera out and the phone out and between the two of us we still managed to capture absolutely nothing of use, which has rather become our trademark on this trip. We docked the boat, got the bags unloaded, and went into the main building for the welcome briefing about the camp and how things worked, and by the time that was done it was getting on for late afternoon, so we tucked into lunch, which to our surprise was both delicious and entirely vegan, and I have to say it didn’t suffer one bit for the lack of meat.
🌅 Sundowners with the Elephants
As planned, we headed back out with McCloud on the launch at around half past three, this time pointing south down the Shire. As we chugged along we saw plenty more hippos, some wallowing in the water and others up on the bank having a graze, looking for all the world like a herd of very large, very grumpy cows. We’d already had our one good look at a crocodile on the way in, but this stretch threw up a few more, who were a good deal shyer than the first and launched themselves into the water the moment they sensed us coming, though this time we were quicker off the mark with the camera and actually managed to get it on film, which felt like something of a triumph after the morning’s failure. The Shire, for those who don’t know, is the main river running through the whole of Malawi. It flows out of Lake Malawi itself and eventually joins up with the Zambezi before making its way out to the Indian Ocean, which when you think about it is rather a long way to travel for a bit of water that started life in a lake in the middle of Africa. Along its banks here in Liwonde it has carved out a network of marshes and wetlands, and these have become a magnet for all sorts of wildfowl, including white-throated cormorants, ibis, egrets, cranes and storks, to name just a few. We also clocked plenty of pied kingfishers darting about doing their thing, plus a fair few African fish eagles sitting up in the trees looking rather pleased with themselves. Over on the eastern bank the land opens right out, flat and grassy, which makes it a perfect spot for the grazing antelope and the hippos to do their business undisturbed. The landscape there was also dotted with these towering termite mounds, which gave the whole scene a slightly odd look, almost as though somebody had dropped a load of miniature South-East Asian temples in the middle of the African bush and then forgotten to come back for them. After a good while heading downstream, McCloud spun the boat round and we pointed back upriver, spotting yet more birds and hippos as we went. By now the sun was dipping fast, and just at the right moment we found ourselves a quiet spot beside a marshy patch where a mother elephant and her calf were having a contented feed in the shallows. Honestly, you couldn’t have written it better. We cracked open our beers, sat back, and put the world to rights with McCloud while the sky did its thing behind the elephants, which it did rather spectacularly. It was an absolutely lovely way to spend an evening, properly relaxing, the sort of thing you remember long after you’ve forgotten what you had for dinner. As the dark properly closed in we made our way back to camp for that very dinner.
🌄 Dawn Drive and the New Cubs
At a quarter past five in the morning our alarms went off and rudely shattered what had been a perfectly good sleep, and fifteen minutes later, bleary-eyed but determined, we were sat in the main lodge with coffee in hand before heading out on the dawn game drive. We hadn’t gone far from Mvuu Camp at all before we ran into another game drive vehicle whose occupants had stumbled upon a pride of lions, and what a find it was. There was one male and two lionesses in the group. One lioness had a pair of cubs that looked to be about a year old, full of confidence and cheek, while the other had four cubs in total, two of around two years old and two tiny ones barely a month old. We felt rather privileged, because it turned out we were among the very first people to set eyes on these youngest cubs, as the mother had only just brought them out of hiding. Lionesses, as McCloud explained, tend to keep newborn cubs tucked away from the rest of the pride for the first month or so of their lives, the idea being to protect them from any rough handling or worse from the other lions until they’re a bit sturdier. Because the pride was sitting so close to the track, we had a cracking view of the cubs tumbling about, getting into absolutely everything, and clearly delighting in winding up the older lions at every opportunity, the way younger siblings always do. We sat there watching the whole performance for a good half an hour before the pride melted quietly away into the bush, and McCloud carried on with the drive.
🌳 Mopane, Baobabs and a Splash of Pink
For the next hour or so we drove on through the park, which in the early morning light was genuinely stunning. The bush here is dominated by mopane trees, but scattered among them are yellow fever trees, which we learned get their name from the early settlers who blamed them, wrongly as it turns out, for outbreaks of malaria, when really the culprit was the mosquitoes breeding in the swampy ground the trees tend to favour. They’re also, rather more usefully, the source of quinine, which for a very long time was about the only thing that did anything against malaria at all. Then there are the baobabs, properly impressive things, and plenty of them, along with plenty of the mopane and fever trees besides, bore the scars of elephants having had a good old go at them, stripping bark and snapping branches in their endless search for food. The overall colourscape out there was mostly brown and green, the colours of the dry bush, but every now and again there’d be a sudden splash of bright pink from the Savvis lily, also known back home as the Christmas rose, poking up through the undergrowth like it had wandered in from somebody’s garden by mistake. The undergrowth itself wasn’t too thick, which meant we had clear sightings of plenty of antelope as we trundled along, including impala, bushbuck, reedbuck and the rather lovely kudu, with their great spiralling horns that always make them look faintly bewildered.
🍳 Breakfast Under an 800-Year-Old Baobab
We’d decided to take our breakfast out with us on the drive rather than head back for it, which is one of those small luxuries that makes you feel rather smug. McCloud picked a spot near the river where a truly massive baobab tree stands, and when we pulled up there was already a sizeable crowd gathered under it, some on foot and some on bicycles, with goats in tow and great piles of firewood and other bits and bobs stacked up beside them. A little further along, another group was hanging about on the riverbank doing much the same thing. It turned out everyone was waiting for the same thing we were about to watch unfold, which was a boat coming to ferry them across the Shire to the other side. McCloud found us a spot a bit further down the bank, unfolded the little table built into the front of the Land Cruiser, and we set about our breakfast. We had him radio through to the chef to find out what exactly was in the wraps, which looked suspiciously like chicken, and while we waited for an answer over the airwaves we poured the coffee and got on with eating anyway, on the basis that ignorance is sometimes the better part of breakfast. As we ate we watched the boat coming across from the far side, absolutely laden with bicycles stacked up on the bow and packed full of people, properly dangerously full if you ask me. We reckoned there must have been something like thirty people crammed aboard, and the boat was sitting so low in the water that it can’t have had more than a few inches of freeboard to spare, which is a sobering thought in a river that’s stuffed with hippos and crocodiles in roughly equal measure. There wasn’t even an engine on the thing, it was being rowed by four men working flat out. The folk waiting patiently on our bank eyed us with what we took to be a fair bit of disdain, though I should say that might just have been our own guilty consciences talking, sitting there with our coffee and wraps while they waited for a rowing boat. Eventually the boat made it across, the passengers scrambled off and went their separate ways, the waiting group climbed aboard, and off it went again towards the far bank. That gave us a window to go and have a proper look at the baobab tree itself. It’s a genuinely ancient specimen, reckoned by the guides to be somewhere in the region of 800 years old, which if you do the maths means it was already a fair old size when Christopher Columbus hadn’t even been born, let alone sailed anywhere. It isn’t simply a baobab either; over the centuries it has been thoroughly swallowed up by a massive strangler vine, to the point where the inside of the trunk has gone completely hollow, and there’s a narrow gap in the bark you can squeeze through to climb inside. McCloud went in first to check there were no snakes or spiders waiting to greet anyone, and once he gave the all clear Karen went in after him. There was absolutely no chance of me fitting through that gap, and to make matters worse I was starting to feel distinctly off colour, so I made my way back to the Land Cruiser and left them to it. While I sat there feeling sorry for myself, McCloud gave Karen a potted history of the tree and the surrounding area. The story goes, and it’s the sort of story that gets repeated often enough locally that it’s worth taking seriously, that the great Scottish missionary and explorer David Livingstone himself once camped close to where this very tree now stands, during one of his expeditions up the Shire in the years around 1859, when he was hunting for a navigable route inland from the Zambezi after the Cahora Bassa rapids had put a stop to his original plans. There’s a darker side to the area’s history as well. Arab and Swahili slave traders operated extensively through this part of the Shire valley in the nineteenth century, raiding local Yao and Manganja villages and marching their captives north towards Lake Malawi, from where they were shipped onward to markets as far away as Zanzibar and Kilwa on the East African coast. Livingstone himself documented these horrors in grim detail, describing skeletons left along the trails and bodies thrown into the river, and it was precisely this testimony, brought back to Britain and delivered to packed lecture halls, that helped turn British public opinion firmly against the trade and fed directly into the pressure that eventually led the Royal Navy to start intercepting slave ships along the coast. Those captives who collapsed from exhaustion, or who were judged too old or too weak to be worth the trouble of moving any further, were sometimes simply tossed into the Shire to drown, or left for the crocodiles, which puts a rather different complexion on a river that today is mostly known for hippos and gin and tonics at sunset.
🦓 Back to Camp, and a Dodgy Tummy
We made our way back to Mvuu Camp, by which point things had taken a rather unfortunate turn internally, shall we say, so I gave lunch a miss entirely and went to lie low back at the chalet instead. The plan for the rest of the day had been a late afternoon river safari, so I spent the gap in between hoping fervently that I’d feel up to it by the time it came round. Happily, after a good sleep and a bit of medicating from the first aid kit, I did indeed perk up enough to join Karen and McCloud for the late afternoon trip, which crucially also meant sundowners were back on the cards. We asked, somewhat cheekily, whether we might have Malawian gin and tonic instead of the usual beer, purely for medicinal purposes you understand, and the answer came back without hesitation that of course we could. This time the safari took us downstream to the south of Mvuu Camp, and once again we had a good run of antelope, hippos, crocodiles and wildfowl. The one genuinely new sighting on this leg was a small herd of zebra, who bolted the moment they spotted us, clearly not used to visitors. The zebra population in Liwonde is still pretty modest in number, a legacy of the years when the park’s wildlife had been knocked back hard, so seeing even a small herd felt like something of a treat. As the sun began its descent we pulled in to the bank and poured the gin and tonics, and once again sat there with McCloud putting the world to rights while the sky turned every shade of orange and pink you could think of behind us.
🐊 More to Explore on the Shire
The rest of that golden hour on the water threw up a string of brilliant sightings, from yellow-billed storks stalking the shallows to an African fish eagle perched watchfully above the river, ground hornbills having what looked like a proper squabble among themselves, and a patient crocodile lying dead still in wait, no doubt eyeing up that small herd of zebra as a potential dinner option rather than just fellow river residents. As the light faded further we watched the yellow-billed storks lift off in formation, heading for their evening roost, against a sky that by this point had turned into one of the finest sunsets either of us could remember from the whole trip.
About Liwonde National Park
Situated in Malawi, the ‘warm heart of Africa,’ Liwonde National Park has been host to some significant wildlife translocations and reintroductions. When African Parks assumed management of Liwonde, in partnership with the Department of National Parks and Wildlife (DNPW) in 2015, the park was riddled with tens of thousands of wire snares – more snares existed than large animals – and it had some of the highest human-wildlife conflict levels in the region. Liwonde was a park in decline, teetering on the edge of total collapse, almost to the extent of not being able to be revived at all.
But since then, Liwonde has established one of the most effective ranger forces and training grounds in southern Africa; integrated the most advanced technology to protect and monitor wildlife and management activities; removed more than 40,000 wire snares; and orchestrated historic animal reintroductions. In 2016 the park was at the epicentre of one of the largest elephant translocations in history. A total of 336 elephants were relocated from Liwonde to Nkhotakota Wildlife Reserve in Malawi to reduce pressure on Liwonde’s natural habitats and help address human-wildlife conflict situations around the park
Planning your visit to Liwonde
| 📍 Location | Machinga District, Southern Region, Malawi (main gate near Liwonde town, on the Shire River) |
|---|---|
| 🕖 Opening Times | Daily, 6:00 AM – 6:00 PM |
| 📞 Phone | +27 11 465 0050 |
| ✈️ Air | Charter flights to the park’s private airstrip near Mvuu (from Lilongwe or Blantyre) |
| 🚗 By Road | From Blantyre: approx. 2.5 hrs (120 km); from Lilongwe: approx. 4 hrs (250 km); 4×4 recommended in wet season (Dec–Apr) |
| 🚤 By Boat | Pre-arranged boat transfer from Liwonde town to lodges on the Shire River |
| ℹ️ Notes | Malaria area, prophylaxis advised. Roads may close in wet season. Guides available at main gate for self-drive visitors. |
🎟️ Entry Fees
| Non-Resident Foreigners | Resident Foreigners | Under 12s | Vehicle Entry |
|---|---|---|---|
| US$10/person/day | US$7/person/day | Free | US$5/vehicle/day |
Getting There
Liwonde National Park sits in southern Malawi, on the banks of the Shire River, about 120 km from Blantyre and 250 km from Lilongwe. Most visitors arrive by road, with a 4×4 recommended during the wet season, or by charter flight to the park’s airstrip near the lodges. River transfers by boat are also available from Liwonde town for those staying at lodges along the Shire.
The Best Time to Visit Liwonde
🌤️ Cool and Dry Season (May to August)
This is the most pleasant time to visit Malawi, with sunny days, clear skies and little to no rain. The landscape stays green into May before drying out, and evenings turn properly cold, especially in the highlands and on the Nyika Plateau, where frost is possible. Game viewing improves steadily from June onwards as animals begin gathering near water.
What to pack: layered clothing for warm days and cold nights, a warm fleece or jacket for early morning game drives, a hat and gloves for Nyika, comfortable walking shoes, sun protection and a torch for chilly evenings.
☀️ Hot and Dry Season (September to October)
The bush is now fully dried out and vegetation is thin, making this the best period for spotting wildlife as animals cluster around permanent water sources. October is the hottest and most dramatic month for safaris, right before the rains return. This is also high season, so popular parks are busier and rates rise.
What to pack: lightweight, breathable clothing in neutral colours, a wide-brimmed hat, strong sun cream, plenty of water, sunglasses and a light layer for cool early mornings.
🌧️ Hot and Wet Season (November to March)
Heavy rain, humidity and dramatic thunderstorms define this season, with the heaviest downpours from December to February. Many lakeshore lodges close, and roads can flood, making travel harder. On the upside, the landscape turns lush and vivid, and this is the best period for birdwatching, with many migrant species present.
What to pack: a waterproof jacket and dry bag, quick-drying clothing, sturdy waterproof footwear, insect repellent, a power bank for possible outages and a flexible itinerary.
🌿 Shoulder Season (April)
April bridges the rains and the dry season. Storms ease, temperatures stabilise, and lake lodges begin reopening after the wet months. The scenery is at its greenest and most vibrant, crowds are thinner, and accommodation deals are often easy to find.
What to pack: a light rain jacket, breathable daywear, a warmer layer for evenings, comfortable walking shoes for damp trails and a camera for the lush scenery.
Overall Best Time to Visit
Taking everything into account, May to October is the overall best time to visit Malawi, offering dry weather, comfortable temperatures and strong wildlife viewing throughout. Within that window, July and August are the most reliable months, combining mild conditions, minimal rain and easy road access. Those chasing peak safari drama should aim for September or October, while travellers wanting greener scenery, fewer crowds and better value should consider April or May. Whatever the season, Malawi offers something distinctive, from dramatic storms and blooming orchids in the wet months to clear lake waters and thriving wildlife in the dry ones.
Malawi – Month-by-Month
Visiting Malawi December to March
These are the wettest months, characterized by torrential downpours in the afternoon. Afternoon temperatures are around 29°C/84°F and the humidity is high.
Visiting Malawi in April
Rain is dwindling and so are the temperatures. Daytime temperatures still reach 27°C/81°F but evenings and early mornings can be chilly.
Visiting Malawi in May
This is the end of summer and the rain has stopped. Temperatures are relatively cool, typically 16°C/61°F in the morning and 26°C/79°F in the afternoon. Nighttime temperatures start to drop.
Visiting Malawi in June – August
The average morning temperature is 14°C/57°F. Bring warm clothing for the cold morning game drives in open vehicles. Afternoons will be more pleasant, with temperatures around 25°C/77°F. Nyika Plateau with its high altitude is much colder.
Visiting Malawi in September & October
he heat gradually builds, and the first rains bring relief from very dry conditions. Daytime temperatures will be around 29°C/84°F in September and 31°C/88°F in October, the latter being the hottest month. Peak temperatures can be much higher.
Visiting Malawi in November
This month is unpredictable – the rain starts in the afternoons. Temperatures are between 20°C/68°F in the morning and 31°C/88°F in the afternoon.
Mvuu Camp
There are a couple of options for staying inside Liwonde, Kuthengo Camp and Mvuu Camp and Lodge, operated by Central African Wilderness Safaris. We chose to stay at Mvuu Camp.
The Mvuu Camp consists of five twin chalets, five family chalets and three rondavels, all of which are comfortably and simply furnished.
The chalets are built on a stone basis with canvas roof and stone-walled en suite bathroom. The camp has a central dining and bar area in a large thatched roof building also including the main reception and a small curio shop. The main lodge overlooks the beautiful wide Shire River where you can see pods of hippo and elephant herds playing in the water.
The restaurant serves tasty food and your activities here include walks (with armed scout), game drives and also boat trips on the river. Located near to the camp is also a rhino reserve which is home to around seven black rhino, and while sightings can never be guaranteed it could just be the highlight of your trip. The guides at the camp are excellent; they are well trained, knowledgeable and informative
More to Explore
