We were aware of a storm brewing over to the west. The grey clouds hung low and heavy and were split by the occasional flash of lightening while the thunder rumbled towards us. Keeping a beady eye on the distant we picked up our pace as best we could on these troubled roads. Over some time and distance the storm slowly worked its wet way in front of us and it looked like we were heading straight towards it. Kingsley decided now would be an excellent time to stop, have some lunch and wait out the storm. Well...who were we to argue...what did we know about the weather? So out came the provitos, cheese and chocolates which we had unexpectedly found at a little shop at the fuel station on leaving Lichinga – a bit of civilization! While munching away we could hear the sound of gushing water. Puzzled, we followed the sound up the road and noticed volumes of water running down the ditch to right of the road. We looked further up the hill and a deluge of rain water was heading our way. Without hesitation we packed our food away as quickly as possible, got on our bikes and within seconds we were caught up in one almighty storm with nowhere to seek shelter. Zeus, ‘God of the Sky’, ‘Ruler of the heavens’, had decided he was not finished with us yet and needed to show us what he was really made of. We had no option but to slowly continue on our way through the down pour with thunder rumbling over head. We were now riding through so many puddles, rain filled ditches, streams of water and poor visibility. Poor Kingsley and Rox didn’t have visors to keep the stinging rain off their faces which made riding even more difficult. But, as on all my adventure rides, I have always convinced myself that as long as the wheels are turning all was well. All was well until we rode through deep water over a cause way and Roxy’s bike decided that enough was enough. Her bike lost power. We limped into the outskirts of a little deserted village where eventually her bike spluttered to a hault. The wheels had stopped turning! Good old Offside brought out his tool bag and took up his now familiar post once again alongside the bike. In the pouring rain he tried to find and fix the problem. Eventually off came the seat and the tank. Kingsley at his familiar post In the mean time the little river running through the village and alongside the road was getting higher and flowing stronger. A sopping Santa. Kingsley tried for about 45 minutes to solve the problem and started talking about having to now tow the bike back to Malawi. Well for me this wasn’t even an option...it was simply too dangerous. As the rain started to subside so the locals started appearing from their homes and shops. It resembled ants crawling out from the woodwork. Of course we were now the center of attention and had attracted a huge inquisitive crowd. Fortunately, there’s always one saviour in the crowd!! This particular guy could speak a smattering of English and he came forward to assist Kingsley and mentioned that there was a bike mechanic further on up the road. In the meantime, there was also a broken down truck in front of us and another truck tried to drag it and turn it around but only managed to get it firmly stuck across the road with its front in the torrent of water. Laughter erupted from within the spectators, losing interest in us and running across to witness more excitement at the new source of entertainment. There was also a loud crashing noise as the walls of a nearby building succumbed to the downpour. Once again much cheering and clapping of hands. This was like something from a bad movie.