Cave paintings from Malawi.

Any idea what this is:

I know, it's not instantly obvious. But how much that is created these days is going to survive for 10,000 years?

For this is a cave painting from Malawi. Men and women lived in these caves, hunting and gathering, and painting on the walls. There are spears and hoes - so we know a bit about their tools. There are animals - deer and zebra. There is a wonderful giraffe, which I can't show you as I couldn't get far enough away to get the whole thing in one picture. But the painter must have had some sort of ladder (or there were several people sitting on each other's shoulders!) to reach about 5metres above the ground to paint the head. The guide suggested that it was simply decoration, to make the cave more homely.

What stunned me most was the sheer existence of these paintings. There are eight sites, close together - suggesting that several families lives alongside each other in these caves. They're reached along a dirt road that is often impassable during the rainy season, so I was lucky to get there. They are found in a granite outcrop on the lower slopes of some significant hills - my guide (the faithful Everlasting) believes there must be many more yet to be discovered. There may be a metropolis of paintings in the mountains.

But it's more than that. These paintings gave people pleasure. The same pleasure that I get from the pictures on my walls and photographs of my family. Just like the people who lived here, 10,000 years ago. We're not so very different.

The best laid plans

There I was, wondering where to go next - well I've a rough idea, actually, as I've only been to Africa once and that was with a tour group, so I was beginning to play with plans to go on my own. To mull over which country to visit, taking on board general thoughts about safety and ease of travel etc. (For anyone wandering the same path, the Lonely Planet Thorn Tree forum is wonderful.)
   And then, as I woke one morning with the screech of exotic birds and roar of lions in my dreams - I turned over - and knackered my knee. (Knackered, you will appreciate, is a generic medical term for doing something extremely painful but you don't know what.) It is, now, funny - but last week I struggled with the 'How did you damage your knee?' questions, kindly though they were. It took time before I could stand apart from myself and watch me coming downstairs on my bottom, walking into town clinging to the railings, and almost giving up when faced with the step onto the bus - and see that this might be a bit comic.
    But time passed, I grumbled, took painkillers, the pain eased after a few days and I look back at that discomfort in disbelief that it was quite that painful. In fact recovery was so swift that, within four days, I danced the night away at a wedding - and wasn't even stiff the next morning.
    Which should be the end of it? Except that I know I have arthritis in my knees - I had arthroscopies on both knees about ten years ago (it's like a D and C of the knees) and have been warned that the day will come when I'll need more surgery.
   But I want to go to Africa. Last week, I could not have carried a rucksack. I could not have walked the corridors to the boarding gate at the airport. I could not have curled into a seat on a plane for a long flight and ever uncurled again. This week, I can sing, dance, and generally prance about like a puppy.
   So - what to do? If I go to the doctor, get into the system - the referral to specialists and the whole waiting-game - it means the whole knee-thing will take over for a while and travelling go on the back burner until it's sorted. Which could take months. Doesn't sound too inviting to me. The alternative - live for today. Go anyway, and hope I don't turn over in bed and have spend a few days days hobbling somewhere hot.
   It's a close call - what would you do?