Day 3. Mon 19th April
The road to Victoria Falls.
Up at six for another big breakfast and by 7 we are on the road. Ken discovers
that he has left his hat at home in Lilongwe. As long as that's the most
important thing he's forgotten . . . We stop at various roadside traders
to try and buy one, but he can't find one that fits. We buy a baobab fruit
instead, for 500ZK. Baobab fruit is what cream of tartar is made from.
It is the size of a melon with an odd texture, but a pleasant taste. We
each have a piece, and return the rest to the seller, to his obvious amusement.
Everywhere along the road there are people waving wads of currency.
Apparently they are trading in Zim dollars and Rand.
We stop off in Mazabuka for a pee break and coffee. This is a thriving
little town and we see several wazungu (white people). Kathy is very excited,
as she worked here for several weeks when she was with Tate and Lyle, and
hadn't realised we would be passing so close.
Ian and Tricia have very generously provided a packed lunch at no extra
charge, and we stop by the roadside to eat it. there is a group of women
and children chatting, embroidering and selling their wares, so, in the
interests of cultural integration, we join them. We are now out of the
Chewa area and they speak Tonga so even Ken has trouble communicating,
but one of the women speaks good English, and we get along fine with that
and a bit of mime. One of them has a splinter in her foot so I proffer
my tweezers, and we leave them the remains of our lunch as a gesture of
friendship. I am disappointed to see them throw the plastic bags into the
bushes, but then the concept of non-biodegradable waste isn't really a
part of their culture. I buy a big green orange for 500ZK which is sour
but juicy and refreshing. As always they are fascinated by the digital
camera and laugh and chatter as they look at pictures of themselves.
We arrive in Livingstone about 4:30. It's
very nice, with the fanciest mosquito nets I've ever seen.* We head for
the bar where we are joined by an inquisitive vervet monkey. (According
to Ken male monkeys' balls turn blue in the winter, but the Vervet is the
only species whose balls are blue all the year round - we suspect he may
be taking the piss!).
Livingstone and Vic Falls is real tourist country. There is a multitude
of excursions available for the next day, but to my, and Ken's, great disappointment
white water rafting is not on the list, as the river is too high. Blondie
and I opt for the early morning Rhino walk in Mosi-oa-Tunja Zoological
Park. I also want to fit in the flight over the falls in a Tiger Moth (so
does Ken, but only if it's free - as a tour guide he sometimes gets a complimentary
place on things, but somehow I think an aeroplane flight won't be one of
them). Sunshine and Pirate pick a lie in, followed by a helicopter flight,
after which Pirate announces that he wants to do a bungy jump from the bridge,
allegedly the highest bungy jump in the world. We agree to all meet up
at the falls at 2:00.
Ken decides he wants to see the falls before bed, so Blondie and I
go with him. By the time we get to the falls it is five minutes to closing
time, but Ken, in his usual inimitable fashion, turns this to our advantage
by convincing the guy on the turnstile, who doesn't want to let us in at
all, that we just want a quick look, and as it's not worth charging us
for five minutes, he might as well let us in for nothing Not only does
he fall for this, but he lets us take our beer in too, and the three of
us have sundowners in the roar and spray of the mighty Zambesi. Ken is stressed
after the long drive and really enjoys the wind down.
We return to the lodge for an al-fresco dinner.
Sunshine and Pirate retire, but Ken decides to hit the JD after the
long drive, so Blondie and I keep him company until about 11 o'clock. Although
we do not attempt to match him drink for drink, we keep our ends up fairly
well, and are fairly mellow by the time we stagger back to our chalets.
*Not as good as Charlotte's in Lilongwe though.