Zambia

16th August 2004

I awake to shouting men playing pool and drinking at 7am on this Monday morning! I make coffee and get the manager to organise some very hot water for a splash shower in the grotty wash hut. I write my diary until Ranger rises at 9ish. I wander over to immigration but still no sign of a letter or fax from Fatdogs. Joseph, the insurance man from the office, walks into the car park and informs us he has managed to contact the campsite and the original letter from 12th August to be faxed to the border office. Apparently they sent the letter on the 12th with an overland truck driver who obviously forgot to hand it over when crossing into Malawi – sod’s law! I cook some breakfast before we wander back to the office. The staff are still being anal and say a faxed letter dated from the 12th will not do. The ‘normal procedure’ is for a waiver letter to be received at the border 48 hours prior to the tourist arriving. The fact we arrived yesterday and we have proof we booked with Flatdogs over six days ago doesn’t matter a bean. After Ranger walking into Zambia to find a mobile phone and getting an engaged ring tone, we decide it is best for him to drive to the nearest town of Chipata to find a landline and speak to the campsite about the fax, which still hasn’t arrived at the border. I wait in the inn car park and write this Malawi update on the laptop to sound of the usual local commotion over the wall at the border – I wonder how he is getting on – I hope he’s not long, all I have is some water and a banana! He arrives back at 3pm after unfortunately failing to get in touch with Flatdogs so we decide to walk over to immigration and take the hit. For paying in Kwacha, the lovely lady in the office charges me 78USD instead of the normal 60USD and tries to keep the change - unreal. We speed off into Zambia, cursing the border post, towards Chipata. The dirt road from this town to South Luangwa National Park is shocking and slow going. We reach Flatdogs campsite on the edge of the park in the dark and find a spot to camp. A West Londoner called John, who is also hiring a Foley vehicle and knows the brothers well, immediately befriends us. We eat in the restaurant before Ranger crashes early and I read next to the car under the tube light.

17th August 2004

The first time we wake in the night is to the sound of clapping noises. On peering out of the tent a huge elephant bull is walking from bin to bin, delicately lifting off the bricks on the dustbin lids and sucking bin liners, tins and bottles, spitting them out onto the ground. I nervously stare at the bull rivalling through the bin, 3m from the vehicle. He looks up and lifts his trunk up to the tent, smelling us inside before thankfully sauntering off to the next bin. The second time we wake is to two tiny eyes of a black-faced Vervet monkey staring at me through the tent. They play in the trees and fling themselves onto our roofrack, making a hell of a racket. We get up and pinch John’s camping spot overlooking the Luangwa River when he leaves for Lusaka. We read, wash clothes and identify the birdlife on the river while monkeys play on tent roofs and slide down tent poles like firemen; hippos grunt in the shallows and a crocodile lazes on a sand bank in the sun. I grab some eggs from the kitchen and cook the biggest English breakfast ever and eat it straight from the frying pan, feeling like a beached whale afterwards. At 4pm we jump on the back seats of a Toyota game viewer and set off into the park for a night drive. As the sun sets, we see a large herd of elephant in the track and mating hippos in the kariba weed pool. We stop on the edge of the dry river and sip a beer as the spotter wires up the spotlight direct to the car battery. We drive off into the night following the light beam from left to right into the bush and trees– the turning heads in front of us look the crowd at a very slow tennis match! In the couple of hours night driving we see a spotted hyena, mongoose, civet, genet and the tail of a puff adder, the fastest striking snake in Africa, sliding into the grass - all in all, another cracking way of enjoying safari. Back at camp, we cook some soup and have another early night.

18th August 2004

Ranger leaves the tent at 5-30am to go on a morning walk safari through the bush. When I eventually climb down from the roof, I hear a loud splashing noise and rush for the camera as a herd of twenty-five elephant cross the river. After my shower, I hear the same noise as a smaller herd cross quickly with young to avoid the crocs. I write diary and study the map of Southern Africa waiting for Ranger to return. He had a super time walking through the bush learning about plants and trees and how to identify game from tracks and dung. After a quick hotdog, we pay the bill and eventually head off on the dirt track towards Lusaka, when we find it. The track initially is through bush, woodland and dry, sandy riverbeds and thoroughly enjoyable but then turns into a 200km slow slog up steep stony tracks; we blatantly missed a vital turning somewhere! Eventually we find the main potholed track again and reach the town of Petauke, halfway to Lusaka, and stop at the Zulu Kraal campsite just out of town. We set up camp on the lawn and tuck into the beers in the fridge and cook dinner. We join the locals in the bar/reception hut and chuckle at a shockingly directed Nigerian film before retiring to the tent.

19th August 2004

We wake to the noise of an overland truck leaving early for Lusaka and get up to do the same. The 400kms to the capital is on a good road through hilly bush, which later flattens out after crossing the bridge over the Luangwa River. Tunnel farms and wheat fields line the road into the clean and tidy outskirts of the city. We stop at a large mall to check email and phone Foleys in Livingstone for the Lusaka base address. After failing to find the house, we meet Pete, the brother of the company manager, Bernadette, at the local medical centre. We shower at the house and go out for early doors. I leave the lads to have their first beers and go next door to the barber to get the thing on my head removed. After some fish & chips and more beers in various bars, we drop a tired Ranger off at the house and continue on to a nightclub, leaving early after some ‘likely lads’ enter who apparently have a bad name.

20th August 2004

After a good night’s sleep, coffee and showers, we have a hearty breakfast at the local Wimpy. We set off to Livingstone, the home to the Victoria Falls, one of the great wonders of the world and a world heritage site. The 475km drive on good tarmac is fast and we roll down Livingstone high street in the early evening, meeting Bernadette and her father, Brian, the vehicle mechanic, at their home out of town. We are immediately made at home by having a beer pushed into our hands and being fed a delicious spag bol in front of the box, watching the Olympics with Brian; a real character. Ranger grabs a spare bed and I sleep in the rooftent.

21st August 2004

I wake late to the sounds of one of the cats trying to get into the tent and Brian turning some steel on a lathe. I join Bernadette and Ranger in the house for coffee before we cook some hotdogs for breakfast and a packed lunch for later. Berny then drives us into town to pick up some canoe safari leaflets and show us some useful places, like where to watch the rugby later on. Back at the house, Ranger & I drive off to the spectacular Victoria Falls and walk around the paths on the East Cataract in front of the mass of falling water, getting soaked in the rising spray. We have a hotdog looking out into the deep gorge with the huge bridge spanning across from Zambia to Zimbabwe – nutters bungy jump as a jet boat powers through the rapids below. We walk upstream and have another hotdog sitting in the sun on rocks next to the water, being careful not to fall in! After drying out, we drive into town to the Jollyboys campsite to catch SA play Australia in the tri-nations cup. I quickly email the Malawi update and join Ranger in the bar to enjoy SA narrowly beat the Ozzies. Pete, AKA ‘Small Dog’, and Berny join us later for the rest of the tomfoolery in the bar, playing table tennis and pool and meeting heaps of folk. We all move on to a club to dance the night away and fling Berny around the dancefloor!

22nd August 2004

I wake early and flick on the Olympics with a coffee before Berny rises and heats up some oxtail and rice for me – what a breakfast! We all lounge on the sofas in front of the sports in recovery positions. Small Dog then decides that sitting around won’t cure his hangover and that a bungee jump from the Zambezi River Bridge is the answer! Berny and I watch him fling himself off the platform above the water, 111m below – as they are members of the oldest family in Livingstone, they pay nothing and Pete later admits that he has about 900 recorded jumps! No, I didn’t jump and couldn’t think of anything worse with a hangover! Back at the house, Ranger has dragged himself to bed. We watch some more Olympics before all driving to the local croc and snake farm for the feeding at 3pm. The farm hosts over 80 crocs and one is 70+yrs old and massive at 18ft! The feeder must be a few plates short of a hamper as he stands in the pen, knocking the crocs with a pole causing them to lash out at him. He feeds each pen of crocs with a tray of horsemeat, which they polish off pretty quickly! We are then shown the collection of poisonous and constrictor snakes and the feeder even coils a python round his neck – a visitor also does but we refrain pretty immediately! Back at the house we turn the Olympics back on while Small Dog cooks a chicken stew for dinner. After the men’s 100m sprint, we remove the matchsticks from our eyes and sleep; me in the rooftent, Ranger grabs the bed.

23rd August 2004

Pretty chilly outside during the night. We go through the few issues with the car with Brian, like changing two rear shocks, two new front tyres and reinforcing the bonnet to take the weight of one of the spares. We catch up on some Olympics and Berny leaves for Lusaka. Ranger and I then head into town for lunch and a quick visit to the crafts market and end up bartering for a huge bowl and spoons. Back at home, Ranger has a lye down while I head back into town to withdraw some cash for the crafts. I watch a film with Kerry before Ranger emerges from the spare room when we decide to leave Brian in peace and quiet and go for sundowners at the Waterfront bar – I great spot on the river. We chat as the deep red sun melts into the Zambezi and a returning booze cruise moors up on the pontoon. We point and laugh as an intoxicated Namibian chap refusing to leave the top deck and buys a last shot for the road. This immediately disagrees with his body and he is forced to hang over the railings in front of the entire bar on the shore. His buddy and crew manage to help the poor boy off in the end and whisk him away. We decide to head into town for food but stop off at the house for some cash. We peer in through the front door to hear the Tom Jones blaring from the hi-fi and a sleeping Brian slumped in his TV chair with a beer in hand, Kerry slaving in the kitchen cooking him dinner. When we ask him where the gateman was to let us in, he jumps out of his chair, swares his head off and marches into the night to find him – I would not like to be on the end of that one! We drive into town and enjoy a kebab and beer with the locals in a fast food joint before deciding we’re too shattered to carry on and head back to join Kerry and Brian at home. On approaching the house, the music has been turned up and we hear them giggling in the kitchen with wine glass and beer in hands. Ranger listens to stories from a slurring Brian while I chat to Kerry on the patio watching one of cats chew on a rat. I then chat to Brian about the red 1100cc ‘Moggy’ (Morris Minor) he restored before leaving him in front of the box to enjoy a heated-up pork chop.

24th August 2004

Up for usual coffee and Olympics on TV before taking one of the other Landys, available for hire, into town for cash, internet, and a failed attempt to get a huge giraffe from the crafts market for 20USD and two white t-shirts. Back at the house we restock Brian’s fridge with cokes before I ask him whether he’s seen our rooftent mattress foam, which we left on the roof before it was driven into the workshop. He hadn’t and decided that the night guard had stolen it – we won’t be coming back then! As Brian madly sorts the problem and buys some foam, we quietly stay out of the way and watch the sport in Athens. We then help the lads cut and glue the foam to fit in the mattress cover. Q: How many men does it take to cut and glue foam for a mattress cover? A: 6. We later catch a taxi into town and enjoy a few beers and a delicious, but very filling, Chinese - the hike home was required to walk some of it off! We sit with Kerry in front of the TV and chat before also hitting the sack; tomorrow we drive into Botswana.

Distance travelled since London : 22,950 km

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