10 May, 2005 - 09:50

Imagine sitting on a beautiful beach.

White sand forming the countours of your body and a lemon soda water plunked in the sand beside your head.

You can hear waves lapping against the shore and children playing.

The occassional beach boy or rasta tries to sell you something that he's made but it's not a big deal.

You lapse in and out of a good novel.

And then,

about 30-40 cows come into view, taking up the width of the beach and walked quite quickly toward you.

Then, and only then, do you realise you are in Malawi.