Thursday, June 24, 2010

12: Mutinondo - South Luangwa NP (Zambia)


Zambia Pictures Here

Week 12 Update:

Day 78:
We had great plans for the day. Danny and Helen had told us about a hiking trail, taking us to Caterpillar Rock and the climbing site. We were to leave early and after about a 3 hour hike, we would meet them at the site and do some climbing. My plan was then to walk back to the lodge via some waterfalls, taking the most of the day to complete the round trip. The weather had other plans. It was freezing cold complete with 100% cloud cover and a fine misty rain falling. Not the best weather to chase you out of bed at 6:30AM. We lingered for a while, covers up to our noses, seriously contemplating spending the morning exactly where we had started it. With a sudden feeling of energy I suggested that we get up anyway, gear up, and head out. What else were we going to do for the rest of the day?

We exchanged the juice bottles for the MRS stove, some water, a kettle and a few PG Tips tea bags, the shorts and sandals for waterproofs and boots, and headed of 45 minutes later than originally planned. The paths were well marked by the slashing of the long grass a meter to each side and the going was easy in the fresh morning air. The coldness left our bones within half an hour of starting our brisk walk and conversations started about our plans for a dreamy woodland campsite in Wiltshire or Somerset. We took a wrong turn at some point and had to employ the hand drawn map as well as GPS to pin point our position and make our next plans. We were warned that the last half a kilometre or so would need some bundu bashing as the path had not been slashed yet, but that the destination would be very obvious. The thing that we did not count on was the drenching wetness of the bushes we had to bash through. Before long we were both walking in sopping wet shoes and socks and my non waterproof trousers were absolutely soaked. The going was tough, and cold, but we made the rendezvous with Helen and Danny 30 minutes before they had expected us.

Nothing serious could happen before making tea and heating up our insides, so that was the very first thing that happened. We also had a stash of oranges t9o get through before reaching the next major Elephant population, so we got stuck into a few of those as well. While this was going on, Danny was exploring a new, one pitch climbing route where they intended to bring some school groups to if suitable. Once he reached the top, Helen got off the belay, tied her harness onto the end of the rope and with the safety of Danny belaying her, she had a go for the first time on this rock. It took some planning and pondering, but she made it to the safe point chosen by Danny within a few minutes, untied herself, walked around the cliff to meat up with us and offered me the harness. It had been years since I had done any climbing, but was still keen to have a go. They deliberately chose a route that could be negotiated in boots or trainers and would be achievable to first time climbers. This was definitely the case. I climbed up and down, handed the harness to Catt who seemed to have less trouble than me making the start and after her completion of the task, we all met at the base of the cliff again. We were offered a lift back to the lodge, which we gratefully accepted as the cold was busy penetrating our bones and another three hour hike didn’t really seem like much fun any longer.

On the drive back we spotted a couple of Road crossing the road. This was a very exciting thing for both Danny and Helen who explained that the area had suffered so much from poaching that there was actually very little game left. This was evident by the lack of game on the dombwes and the serious lack of tracks and signs of life in the bushes. We also learnt that the owners had only two years left on their lease, and to renew it they were probably going to be forced to fence their 10 000 hectares and stock it with enough game to call it a private game reserve. Their only other option seemed to be to farm on the land.

Back at the lodge I made a fire as big as the boiler would allow. After a scrumptious lunch we had a seriously long and hot shower, defrosting ourselves and headed over to the lodge’s bar to see who was around. It was deserted. Not an unwelcoming site, so we relaxed in the comfortable chairs reading some magazines and articles about the owners, and the Harvey’s from Kapishya. We watched the horses stroll by the three dogs belonging to the lodge pester them to the dismay of Danny.

The sun came out in the late afternoon which excited us both enough to get up and take an energetic walk to the closest two waterfalls. To be 100% honest, I would rather call them rapids than falls as the higher of the two was probably no higher than a single storey and the round boulders the water flowed over allowed for no vertical drop. It became very apparent that Mutinondo Wilderness Lodge was all about walking and the softer side of nature, rather that the traditional lodges and camp sites with wildlife and game drive vehicles. The horses were for guests to ride and the river had a canoe above the first falls that could be used to paddle upstream in. The paths were all being cleared after the growth spurt the grass had seen in the wet season and the emphasis was on hiking and sight seeing. Catt and I both felt that the place had a strange feel of a slight neglect, or lack of interest to its owners, but yielded much potential and was more suited as a holiday destination rather than a stop over.

We got back to camp just after dark, but just before you needed a torch to find your way. Our solitude was once again invaded by my countrymen. This time it was the guys we saw at Kolambo Falls and who we had referred to Tanganyika Lodge a few days earlier. They had spent three nights with Christopher and had only good things to say. The campsite at Mutinondo was so large that we hardly knew they were there and after abusing the free firewood for a little warmth we settled into a well deserved and deep sleep in our cosy hotel on the roof.

Day 79:
There was no hurry. We got up a little later, stoked the fire under the boiler and after coffee ventured into the showers. These showers were really well thought out! Under a circular roof, there were 4 showers each taking up a quarter wedge of the pie. The taps were small industrial valves and the shower heads were sprinklers. The roof was half closed, half open and the walls were from reeds. Every shower had a small bench and about 10 nine inch nails to hang things off. It was easy to get stuck under the hot water for a while.

After greeting our hosts and paying the bill we set off around 9am. The plan was to find the market in Mpika and stock up on some vegetables before moving on. The bustling market was easy to find and the vegetables were plenty and cheap. We spotted carrots which seemed to be a little scarce in Zambia and bought phenomenal quality green peppers and the biggest avocado I had ever seen. We stocked up on peanuts and selected a small but healthy cabbage (Don’t tell our mothers!) before heading north again.

Less than a kilometre further we were stopped at a police road block. This was nothing strange as we had stopped at the same place on the way south. I rolled down the window and removed my sunglasses as I had done so many times before. I smiled and greeted the officer in a friendly and respectful manner as I have done so many times before. He asked to see my insurance papers, which I produced and found this pretty standard. He then pocketed the insurance proof and asked for a “Toll receipt”, which I knew nothing about. He showed me an example and I noticed that this was for trucks using the route through to Tanzania, and not for tourists travelling through the country. I mentioned this with a puzzled expression on my face at which point the officer grabbed it out of my hands in aggressive disagreement. He instructed me to pull off the road and wait. As I did as instructed my blood boiled over and I told Catt that we were about to become the victims of police corruption. I was PISSED!!!!

The officer with my insurance papers beckoned me over and told me to see the man under the tree. I asked for my insurance papers back first but this was aggressively refused and again I was instructed to see the man under the tree. I obeyed and walked over, asking where my insurance papers were. He told me that they were being held as surety until I had paid my fine. He even started writing a receipt. Problem being that this “receipt” was a photo copy of a receipt book with no carbon paper or copy for the officer. One thing that I had learnt in Zambia by then was that every official document came in at least triplicate. These idiots were obviously running a little scam on the side, taking this angry Musungu for a fool. He refused to write the name of the claimed document on the receipt. He wrote it so general that my fine could have been for J-walking, or killing a Chicken. I lost it!

My next step was to walk back to the car. I got out the video camera, flicked it on and started asking for a description of this document they claimed I needed. I also asked for their names. This was met by massive aggression and threats of arrest, so I turned the camera off, refused to hand it over as loudly asked Catt to find the anti corruption phone number.

We sat in the vehicle for while waiting for the bustards to make their minds up. After 30 minutes I had calmed down and through the window asked the second of the idiots whether this waiting was for something specific, or if I could pay my “fine” and leave. The first idiot had a short conversation with him and then called me over to the middle of the road. They were careful not to do anything close to the car or within earshot of Catt. They forced me to apologise for my behaviour before handing back my insurance paper, making me promise to delete the footage as it was apparently illegal to film police officers and sent me on my way with a “friendly warning”. I left, shaking with anger and a promise to myself not to leave it there. I had their faces on film and a clear recollection of what had happened. They fucked with the wrong Musungu and ruined my idea of a nice and peaceful, respectful Zambian people!

Thanks to Mark Harvey we used a shortcut to the western gate of North Luangwa National Park. This surfaced dirt road was in perfect condition making the drive pleasant and easy and after an hour or so I had calmed down about the corrupt PIGS. We reached the gate in time for lunch and relaxed for a while in the shade of massive trees by the gate. The fee for entering was not unexpected, but very high at $65 for the two of us and Maggie. I chatted to the ZAWA man who explained that transit roads belonging to the government could not be charged for, but this road was a park road and that was the reason we had to pay the fees, despite the fact that we were using it for transit purposes only. I also learnt that you could apply for free park entrances if you were doing research projects, which I wish I knew before the time. I could have easily incorporated some research into our trip.

The drive through the park was pleasant and easy with decent roads and no 4 wheel drive needed. North Luangwa, as many of the other parks we had been to could not be described as “over grazed” or over populated by game. It is apparently more famous for walking safaris and birding, but apart from a Western Banded Snake Eagle, a few Ground Hornbills and a rare sighting of a flock of Lillian’s Lovebirds which are endemic to only three places in Africa, we saw very little. We did accidently take a wrong turn in the middle of their Rhino sanctuary and was followed by the anti poaching vehicle who set us straight again.

The eastern border of the park is formed by the mighty Luangwa River and the only way across it at the time of year was by using a pontoon. We were happy to find it easily, but very sceptical at its effectiveness. The approach to the pontoon was down a steep river bank and across about 200m of loose river sand. 4 Wheel drive was indeed needed for this part. The pontoon itself was only needed for a 50 meter channel of deep, impassable water and hand drawn. It was made up of eight cylindrical metal tubes, a fold up ram on each end and a plank floor on which to park. It was barely big enough to fit Maggie onto and sank deep into the water as I drove slowly onto it in 1st gear Low Range. To say that I was a little nervous would be an understatement. To say that we were floating level would simply not be right and to say that I was relieved once I had manoeuvred the bulk of the vehicle off the pontoon and back onto dry land would be very true indeed.

We had chosen our destination of for the day to be the Community Camp site by the pontoon named: Chifunda Bush Camp. Arriving there in the late afternoon we were greeted by what seemed to be the whole village. We were obviously the only guests for the day and it seemed like it had been a while since their last guests. It felt a little overwhelming to be surrounded and outnumbered, regardless of their friendly intent. We chose a spot on the river next to their fireplace and dining room to park. A fire was eagerly made and warm water for the shower was immediately organised. They were efficient. The cost bugged me a little though. At Kapishya and at Mutinondo we paid $10 each for the night. These guys charged $12 without offering anything. I shrugged it off as another part of Zambia’s warped sense of economy and decided that the money had to be split many more ways, justifying the extra expense in some bizarre way.

Between arriving and having dinner we were visited by a different representative of the village at least 12 times. One time for every $2 spent. The first few times were enquiries as to when we would like to shower, if we wanted something from the bar, if we wanted them to cook for us or if the fire was ok. The last few times was offering walking safaris or guides for the area. They were stumped by the fact that we simply wanted to be left alone and leave early.

Day 80:
We woke up refreshed after a warm and still night, but to the sounds of someone already cleaning out the fire place. Other villagers were down by the river clanging pots and pans together as they were cleaning them and some others were sweeping the paths to and from the simple chalets they had on offer. Feeling slightly lazy I jumped out of bed and started making coffee. This was interrupted at least another 12 times by people asking “how the night was” which was followed every time by a short polite conversation about the noisy Hippos and distant Lions. We managed to pack up in a short enough time and set off down the road towards the next community based camp site.

According to T4A you had a choice of two roads. There was a river route, which I wanted to take and another route past an airfield. Garmap was on Venus, not earth at this point and the paper map indicated only the main route past the airfield. About three kilometres down the river road we were stopped by a guard and informed that the road was for hunting only. He told us that we had no choice but to take the airfield route. The GPS took us to a random point in a random village about 100m away from the well hidden airfield, but with the help of some young men from the village we were set on the right path. They were obviously a little cheesed at the fact that I did not offer to pay them for the two minutes it took them to show us the way.

The narrow and rough bush track meandered through massive trees with little undergrowth. It was breathtakingly impressive to drive even though I was a little nervous every time I saw a river on the map ahead of us. The crossings of small streams were steep and narrow and I managed to scrape the tow hook of the Cruiser on departing the ditches many times. At one crossing over an obvious mud pit I had to have three goes in Low Range to get enough grip to pull us out the other side.

By mid morning we had covered almost half of our intended distance and came upon a truly African scene. In front of us was a 60m river crossing at the Lundazi River. The water at the deepest was about two feet and on our side was a stuck Land Cruiser pick up. Behind the Cruiser were no less than 20 men pushing and shouting and the roar of the engine made no difference at all. On our side of the bank were four massive sacks of maize, 5 bicycles and 15 pairs of shoes. These guys were truly stuck and very happy to see us. It was quickly established that this was their third attempt at crossing the river, but because the 4x4 did not work in their vehicle, they had gotten stuck there every time. They had been there for almost two hours, which was evident by the amount of gleaming sweat and body odour around. There was a 10 tonne truck on the other side of the river, but that was too heavy to cross, so it could only pull them back in that direction. Like a knight in shining armour I reeled the winch cable out, attached it to their recovery hooks and hung two bright yellow vests over the cable. This was to prevent the cable from taking someone’s leg off should it snap. The locals laughed at this strange thing I did and kept removing the vests until I gave up. I tried to clear a safe area, but that to seemed impossible. I asked Catt to at least hide behind the vehicle and with a roaring engine, my feet firm on the break pedal and my hand on the winch button we had them out in less than two minutes.

The person I was communicating to was from the village on the other side and in charge of the big truck, so I politely asked him to stick around until we had made it through. I nervously waded in and walked across the soft sand selecting the most appropriate line I could think off. In the back of my mind I kept thinking that these guys had so much more experience in these conditions that I had and their car was no where near as heavily loaded as ours. I was a little sceptical as to weather we would be able to make it through or not. I selected High Range, hoping that speed and momentum would be my friend, started my roll and snapped Maggie into second before pushing the accelerator half way in. The engine was roaring and the wheels seemed to grip tightly, the Mud Terrain tyres holding fast and without as much as a hiccup of hesitation we were out the other side to the great applause of the people we had just helped. Silently I felt nothing more than relieved and a little shaky after the experience. After a short conversation with the man from the village I had established that they were the people who owned the camp sites we were staying at and as an attempt at humour I asked for a night’s free accommodation as payment for the rescue. I figured that if the roles were reversed, I would have to fork out some currency as compensation, so why not ask… He smiled and said that he would radio the camp.

A few kilometres down the road, after another tricky river crossing we met another South African vehicle. We quickly swapped stories of heroic rescue and experiences of the river crossings we had made. It seemed that we had one more wide body of water between us and the Mwanya Camp we intended to stay at. It also seemed that the locals simply ploughed into these rivers without any consideration of consequence and when they get stuck, they just struggle until they either free themselves, or get helped by some passing tourist. The last crossing of the day at the Lukuzye River required Low Range to get up the steep bank. We were watched by a dozen or so local kids who were visibly disappointed when we made it across unassisted. I wanted to suggest that they made a deeper hole before the ascent to get people stuck, but decided against the friendly banter that could end up in corrupting the local kids.

We arrived at a mirror image of a bush camp we had left that morning. Mwanya was armed with two people who were friendly and ever so slightly over bearing, but no where near as uncomfortably approachable as the previous crowd. We were shown where to camp, which bathroom to use and left in peace for a while. I had to stop the man from making a fire for us at 15:00 and said that I would deal with it at the appropriate time. At 17:30 we were informed that the shower water was warm. We ventured over to the ablutions and found it… well, too hot. This is not a complaint, but an observation. I never thought I would ever in Africa find shower water that was too hot to handle. I was wrong. These guys had talent! There was only one tap and no mixer, so the water obviously came from one drum which was HOT! The simple solution would have been to wait half an hour for the water to cool down slightly, but it was such a strange phenomena that we just braved the conditions and showered quickly.

It does not happen often, but every once in a while when we are camping in the bush I feel very exposed. This was such a night. It was fine around the fire and when we were eating. It was fine when the two guys from the camp came by to tell us about the Leopard they had spotted behind the camp. It was fine when we were packing away and turning the lights off. After we had been asleep for about two or three hours though, we were woken up by the deafening sound of Lions roaring close by. This was followed by trumpeting Elephant and suddenly every little sound I could hear became louder and more threatening. The flapping tent resembled skulking Hyena and the Monkeys in the trees by the fire place sounded like a herd of Elephants coming for our oranges. The Hyena I heard was miles away, but I was convinced there was another one licking our grill which I had left outside. Apparently I was not the only one as Catt also made a few comments and slept as much as I did, which wasn’t very much at all.

Day 81:
Needless to say that we were unnecessarily paranoid about the normal night sounds in the bush. Our grill was safe, the oranges still with us and nothing was eaten or chewed. The two camp attendants were at the river washing up and collecting water half an hour before the sun was up and we got up eagerly and excited about reaching our second big destination of the trip.

We had been talking about visiting South Luangwa National Park since the first time we had been in the African Bush together. This was the day we would realize that dream. We crossed another big river with villagers seeming disappointed when we did not get stuck before getting to the entrance gate to the Chikwinda Gate. This part of the park was on the eastern side of the river and best of all, the road through it was owned by Government and used as a transit road, so access was free. Well, free provided that you were only transiting and only using the main track. Although this was what we wrote in the book, we still ventured towards the river, sneaking a peak at what the park was like. It was a cloudy morning, but the animal life was still impressive. We saw loads of Hippo, some Elephant and big herds of Impala and Puku before exiting that sector of the park at the Miljoti gate and driving on to Mfuwe.

We had no idea where to stay, but from the guidebooks it seemed like Flatdogs Camp was the closest to the entrance gate and the most popular. I had read a lot of good things about Wilderness Camp, so that was my second choice. We found Flatdogs easily, but were informed that they were full. They could help us for one night only and we intended to stay at least three. I put Wilderness Camp into the GPS and saw it was miles away, so on Catt’s recommendation we ventured into Crock Valley Camp, the next closest place for a look. We were greeted by Sean, the owner and showed the lawned camp site right on the river complete with a little thatched gazebo for every group. Water was from a well, so perfectly clean and drinkable and the bar was fully stocked. He informed us that the half of the camp site opposite the bar was fairly full, but we were welcome to set up on the side we were standing. I had a peak and saw three vehicles on the other side. We were the only ones on the side we were at, so chose a comfy stand under massive shady trees on the lawn just before asking what their rates were. Up to then in Zambia we had paid anything between $5 and $25 per person to camp, so a place looking that nice would surely be in the upper half of what we were used to… or so I though. It was $7.50 per person per night. The second cheapest we had found in Zambia. We immediately signed up for four nights!

We also decided not to move again for the rest of they day, so spent the afternoon relaxing and doing little things to amuse ourselves until it was time to light the Cobb and make some dinner. We tried a few times to convert our new Cell phone airtime to data to be able to get online but had to phone Customer Care so often that we used up the allocated amount you can phone them for free. We were, on the last call assured that we would be able to use our data bundle within two hours. That never happened, so we decided to leave it to the next day. Before bedtime we had discussed the way we would visit the park. The entry for the two of us was $75 a day with our car, so we wanted to make the most of it. The permits are valid for 24 hours, so if you enter at mid day, you can enter again the next morning and stay until mid day. With the tent on the roof of the car, we decided to mission the next day, have a day off and mission the day after that again.

While we were reading in bed I heard a noise outside and looking up saw the night security guard chasing a Hippo off the lawn. Seemed they had their own friendly Hippo who loved to come and visit, so we named him Harry the Hippo. He ran away from the guard and hit the water with a great splash after which he obviously turned around and vocalized his displeasure at not being allowed to feast on the soft and yummy lawn.

Day 82:
We got up before the sun and packed up camp in record time. The gate opening time was 6am and we wanted to be there for that! It was only a 5 minute drive to the gate but because most of the accommodation is outside the park, the road was fairly busy. ZAWA seemed to be trying to discourage self driving, so we saw mostly game drive type vehicles with 10 to 12 people per vehicle. This was not the way we would have liked to do it.

At the gate we wrote our names and registration number down and were allowed to enter and explore. Sean had told us that they both follow the river south, or north, depending on their mood and suggested we do the same. We selected south with the sunrise slightly behind us and started following the river. South Luangwa is famous for the densest population of leopard known to man. They boast one female for every one kilometre of river frontage, but we were under no illusions as to how difficult it would be to spot them during the day. Night drives are offered by the lodges, and they have great success at spotting Leopard, but charge $45 a person, excluding park fees for the pleasure. We had had many wonderful Leopard sightings in the past, so decided against spending that ridiculous amount for a possible sighting.

Our river meander took us through wide open areas with short green grass linked by thick bush and some dry river beds. You could see signs of people getting horribly stuck in cotton mud in the wet season, but the road was nice and dry and easy to drive for us. We saw plenty of game as well! There were huge herds of Puku and Impala everywhere you looked and more troops of Yellow Baboon than could be counted. We found a clear water channel with about fifty Yellow Billed Storks in, fishing as a team. They would start at the one side with their beaks submerged and march towards the other side, seemingly herding the fish to the shallower water. They were joined by African Spoonbills, a few Hamerkop, Sacred Ibises and a Jacana or two. At some point a Fish Eagle came swooping in to join the party, sending all the other birds flying off. They returned within a minute or so and dutifully restarted their efforts.

Moving away from there we saw some Buffalo and a young Elephant Bull who had lots of attitude towards a game drive vehicle who cam a little close to it. Catt was very happy that we were far away and made sure that I understood that she would not tolerate me going anywhere near any Elephants in the park. I wanted to disagree and argue that I could real elephant behaviour pretty well, but she insisted in a way that left no room for debate.

Another thing we had noticed was that the tracks in the park were seasonal to the point of not being on any maps we had. It seemed like they are formed when the water subsides from the dombwes every season and because they change every season, no one bothers to mark them. It was pretty easy to navigate though as the 100m wide Luangwa River forms the park boundary and all roads seemed to lead to it and from it.

As there were no picnic spots or places where you were allowed to leave your vehicle, we left the park around 11am and headed into town to get a few things. I wanted to change the oil in Maggie, so that was on the list and Catt wanted some ingredients for tomato chutney, so we visited the market for that before returning to our camp site for lunch. Their internet was down and after making another call to customer care of our network (This time paid for) we were informed that the sim card was not activated for internet yet and that it would take two hours for that to happen. By that time we had: Bought a sim card, added some airtime, converted the airtime to a data bundle and activating the converted data bundle. No one ever mentioned activating the sim card to accept the data bundle to us… I was not impressed! We had gotten word from home to read some urgent emails, so after lunch we drove to Flatdogs to get online. The previous day’s conversation with the reception lady there revealed the existence of Wi-Fi in their bar.

The bar was empty, and the internet cafĂ© was next door. They did not offer Wi-Fi or the possibility of using your own computer, so we left… still internet less. We drove to Wilderness Camp with high hopes of Wi-Fi but after the 20 minute slog through pot holes and bad roads we were disappointed to find no internet facility at all. Driving back to Crock Valley I decided that that would be the last time on our trip that I was going to make an effort to get online. I mean seriously, I had enough of chasing after the ever illusive reliable and fast internet and nothing in my life, or Catt’s was so serious that it couldn’t wait a few weeks… or even a month or two. I also realized that the best way by far to keep in email contact in Africa was via a smart phone like a Blackberry or Iphone or something. Our USB cell phone modems and struggles with African networks and customer care was just more hassle than any two people should deal with!

After calming down some and relaxing in the shade of our fabulous thatched gazebo next to the mighty Luangwa River, I tried the cell phone modem one more time and… well… it worked! We had internet at last and for the first time in two weeks. I was so excited that I shut it down, made some strong coffee and we headed into the park again around 14:30 not caring a hoot about the urgent emails I was supposed to read.

For our afternoon drive we had decided to follow the river north. We had heard about a big pride of Lions in that direction and knew that they wouldn’t move far in the heat of the day. Surprisingly, and in a phenomenal way, the northern part was even better than the southern part. We still hugged the river, but found many dry dombwes full of life. These were still linked by thick forest and massive trees, but they seemed somehow busier and more interesting. The road was a little rougher, but that is why we have 4 wheel drive. We never actually engaged it, but did manage to hit the tow ball once or twice on departing from a deep narrow ditch. The game was wall to wall. Seriously, I can not remember ever seeing so many animals in such a small area before. We saw loads of elephants with very young calves and millions of plains game with many young. We saw massive Bushbuck rams and Waterbuck and an insane amount of birds. We found a Crocodile baking in the sun with a heap of what I thought must be Nile Cabbage on its back and hundreds of Hippo grazing on the same stuff in the many pools in-between the forests and dombwes. It was a true wildlife extravaganza! The park fees suddenly did not seem expensive at all.

In the late afternoon we were on our way to camp, driving on one of the all weather roads. This was lined with huge trees and nothing but grass under them as far as the eye could see. We spotted a family of elephant and stopped for a while. It was clearly a mother with two calves. The oldest one was probably a third her size and the youngest one could not have been older than 6 weeks. It could still fit under her belly and had no idea what to do with its trunk. The sun was low and the sky was painted a deep purple by clouds on the horizon. The true size of the trees was only evident when these massive beasts were seriously dwarfed by them. It was a great show!

On our way out, debating weather we should take the main road or if we had time for a detour, a vehicle full of my countrymen came by and told us where the Lions were. That made the decision easy. Lions though are strange things. They sleep about 20 hours a day and you can spend a lifetime watching them do nothing at all. We have had some spectacular Lion sightings in the past including one where two males had taken a small Elephant, so I was not holding by breath for anything incredibly special. On the other hand, I did notice a slight raise in the pulse and excitement in my voice driving that way. When we found them, my jaw dropped! It was a pride of 17. The alpha male was a young Lion, but in great condition and very strong. The females looked great and had recently had a bog meal judging by the size of their bellies. The pride was lying right out in the open on the edge of a high river bank. We joined a group of about seven vehicles in the sighting and the pride did not seem to care. Maggie’s driver side front wheel was within four meters of the big man. I set up the HD video camera on a window pod and gave the 5D Mark II a proper shutter workout for at least 30 minutes. It was time to go and the sun was already behind the horizon, but even that one sighting would have made the day a worth while one.

On the way out the park we realized that we had also not been bugged by Tsetse flies the whole day. This was a rare treat in Zambian wildlife parks as they all seemed to infested by Tsetse. A kilometre before the gate and in very low light Catt spotted a Hippo out the water. This, for south Luangwa is not so rare, but what was special was the amount of plant life on its back. It looked like the poor fellow was carrying a vegetable patch. He showed his dismay at our laughter by a massive yawn, providing a brilliant opportunity to snap a few shots and providing a humorous and perfect ending to a truly astonishing day in a truly breathtaking place!

We reached our camp site just after dark and pitched camp in record time, lighting the fire for cooking and sitting down with a glass of wine within 20 minutes of the engine being turned off. I fired up the laptop in a calm way and downloaded my emails. Nothing was really urgent. I even managed to update the website, not that that is so vitally important and we made a Skype date with both the parental units for the next day, not that we would not be able to survive without that.

A few hours after we fell asleep I woke up from the newly familiar sounds of Harry the Hippo chomping away at the nice green lawn, only this time within meters of our tent. I watched him for a while; almost jealous at the sheer amount of stuff he could fir into his mouth at any one time before hearing the night watchman approach. This was followed by the obvious running away of the Harry, the huge splash as he hit the water, the sound as he turned back around and the loud vocal displeasure he displayed once again for being chased off the lawn. I thought about how much I loved the simplicity of the African routine in that place and fell into a deep sleep.

Day 83:
This was a housekeeping day. We had come to realize how important these days were and also how frequently we should have them. In a normal working life you work for 5 days and relax for two. In those two days people might go shopping for food, or clean the house, or do some laundry. In our new chosen lifestyle we had decided to have a housekeeping day, or rest day, once every week. Our last one had been at Kapishya, so it was time.

We woke up before 7am to the sound of Monkeys in the tree above our tent and the shouting of the kid that came in one of the vehicles that arrived at 8PM the previous evening. The sun was shining on our faces and the tent was nice and warm, so it was easy to get up and start the day with a strong cup of coffee and a hot shower. I spent at least an hour basking in the early morning sun before starting the chores of the day.

We had decided that more preventative maintenance on the car was in order to try and prevent things going wrong again. We were also due an oil change which I got stuck into straight away. The lodge provided me with an oil pan. They even wanted the old oil to treat their wooden poles with. I had bought a filter wrench before our trip and this was its first commission. It failed miserably and I had to puncture the oil filter with a screw driver to get leverage to undo it. I inspected the mended Timing Belt Cover and that seemed to hold up perfectly. I topped up all the other fluids that needed it and discovered that the deep cycle battery had somehow decided to work a little better. It was reading full on the Multi Meter after a night of running the fridge. Strange phenomena, but I wasn’t arguing… I decided to check it again in the late afternoon.

Catt got stuck into making chutney and baking bread which took a large chunk out of the day, and the supplies. The cleaning of the Cobb after spilling sugar, vinegar, charcoal and tomato juice in it was no small feat, let me tell you, so that also took a big part of Catt’s day to deal with. We caught up on some computer work and I even managed to check my emails again in the afternoon. What luxury I thought: Checking email twice in two days.

I met Eric from a Malawian company called “Lake and Land” with a head office in Lilongwe. Eric said he could organize some Malawi Kwacha to cross the border with at a much better rate that the crooked money changers at the border. I also asked for advice on accommodation in Lilongwe and he referred us to Sanctuary Lodge. I got the impression it belonged to his company, but at the $6 per person he recalled the camping fee to be, it sounded great. We promptly got phone numbers and directions.

I checked the deep cycle battery again and found it was not holding its charge very well. We decided to run the fridge on Solar for a few more weeks before getting a new battery as this system had been working fine for us during the preceding week. I also checked on the leaking rim. Bizarrely my patch worked 100%, but I found a few new leaks so decided to wait to Lilongwe and ask a specialists advice.

Afternoon rolled into evening and the day came to a lazy, yet successful conclusion once again. Over dinner we noticed a movement on the river and closer inspection revealed some fisherman in a dug out canoe. Even stranger that that was the lone fisherman standing on the sand bank in the middle of the river where Harry had been sunbathing all afternoon. These guys were so much braver than I was! Then again, Hippos are responsible for the second most animal caused deaths in Africa, Mosquito and Malaria being at the top of the list.

We decided to have another park day the next day, so in light of the early start and long day we hit the pillows fairly quickly. Somewhere in the middle of the night I woke up from the sound of a great wide mouth chomping away at the manicured lawn and smiled. Harry the Hippo was at it again!

Day 84:
Up before the sun and excited about the day we set off to the gate before 6:30. We paid our $75 for the day and decided to head north straight away. Although this was more into the rising sun, we felt that the life on that side of the park was better and we had a better chance to spot the Lions again. We were told that they had taken a Buffalo the day before we saw them, but that because of the size of the pride, they needed to make a kill every two to three days.

The park seemed somehow busier than the previous time and the traffic was mostly from South Africa. Saying that, there were limited roads to drive and everyone seemed to be choosing the same tracks, so I’m pretty sure we saw all the vehicles that were inside the park that day.

By mid morning we had spotted our fair share of plains game and an exciting number of water birds. We found one dombwe completely filled by Impala, Warthog, Waterbuck and Puku. We lingered for a while hoping for a predator to come stalking in, but realizing how unlikely that was, we moved on. We had made our way along the river almost to the end of the road and decided to return via an inland loop rather than backtrack passed everything we had already seen. Just before leaving the river road we saw a large pod of Hippo in a wide curve between the sand banks. Stopping to take a photograph Catt noticed a Crocodile basking in the sun and picked up the binoculars to have a closer look. This revealed no less that 17 massive lady prehistoric reptiles doing what Crocodiles to best… nothing at all. Needless to say that I wasn’t really keen on going for a swim.

Once we left the river, the bush changed dramatically and it was a lot more difficult to spot game. I almost decided to do a U-turn and head back at some point as the grass next to the car was higher than the roof. We decided to persevere to a point where the track met up with another river and within 10 minutes our decision was rewarded. Right next to the road in the shade of some Acacia trees were 4 Lionesses. They were lazy and sleepy and could hardly be bothered to keep their heads off the ground and their eyes open, but somehow we were still pleased and impressed. The strange thing for me was that there was no mail. Through the binoculars I saw that they were all quite battle scarred and seemed quite old. I wondered if they had been kicked out of the pride we saw the previous day in favour of younger, stronger and more fertile females. They were still looking healthy and had full bellies, so I guessed their experience in hunting still made them survive easily. Then again, with that much food around, even a mediocre hunter had to be successful every day.

We left the elderly ladies in peace and ventured further inland joining the other river road. This river was dry, but still had lots of life around it. We spent a while watching a family of Elephant walking into the dry sand and digging for water when we noticed our first dreaded Tsetse flies for the day. We had found that a strong solution of Dettol and water was about the only deterrent and a can of insect poison (The more DEET the better) was the only retaliation. They are attracted to dark blue and black, so our black window tinting, snorkel, bull bar and tyres were just too much to resist. We were suddenly driving in a swarm of flies trying to gain access through the blackened glass. We rolled up the windows, turned on the Aircon and did the necessary with the chosen spray. In a flash I announced that I did not miss the lack of the little pests at all over the previous few days. The onslaught persevered for about an hour and half and until we came out of the forests and entered the plains where we had been two days earlier.

At the pond in front of the Mfuwe Lodge, where we had seen hippos in the Nile Cabbage the previous time, we stopped to watch some Zebra and Impala have a drink. One Impala almost stepped on a HUGE Crocodile before jumping up and sideways to avoid its pearly whites. The Crocodile then slithered back into the water and disappeared beneath the floating green surface… I was still not interested in swimming.

We left the gate at 11:30 after a long morning in paradise, but very satisfied with the fruitfulness of our labour. We made our comfy camp before 12:00 and spread out our left over Hamburger Patties and home baked cheesy breads for an insanely satisfying lunch!

We re entered the park around 14:30 with high hopes. We felt that by then we had a clear understanding of the road network and where to see the most game. The afternoon kicked off to a great start with the usual abundance of plains game. We drove up to a dombwe with water still in it and found, conservatively estimated, about 150 Yellow Billed Storks, 25 Marabou Storks, 20 Saddle Billed Storks, Hamerkops, jacana’s and I counted 9 Fish Eagles. They were all fishing the last slither of water left and they all competing, and fighting over the last few fish left. It was a spectacle to behold!

The dombwe across the road had a few Hippo in the Nile Cabbage and half out the water which provided some entertainment and a massive Crocodile on the bank which did not move when we slowly cruised within a couple of meters passed him. We passed some more dombwes with vast herds and plenty of variety before reaching a ditch blocking our path.

The ditch in question was about a meter and a half wide with some mud in it and no more than half a meter deep… so so we thought. Catt even got the camera out to take some photos of Maggie in action and after slipping her into Low Range I started making my way through. The front wheels made it through without any issue but by the time the rear wheels touched the broken surface of the newly discovered cotton mud underneath the crust, poor Maggie simply sank into something resembling quicksand. I tried forwards and backwards a few times, slipping sideways and getting us into more and more trouble before killing the engine, taking a deep breath and realizing that we were well and truly stuck!

I asked Catt to get the recovery bag while I started unrolling the winch cable, praying that the closest tree was within reach. It obviously wasn’t. I had three tow straps which I all connected together with one around the tree and with some amount of effort I managed to clip the winch’s hook onto the last one. I got Catt a safe distance away, dropped in behind the wheel with my head hung low, selected my slowest gear, kept the revs up and started winching. Right there, as the tree started creaking, the cable flexing and we started to slowly free the car from its muddy trap, I decided that a winch is worth its weight in gold! Especially for stupid people who try and cross muddy ditches.

We managed to giggle at ourselves on the way back out the park and made camp before dark. Pitching was done with 10 minutes with fire made, wine poured and tired, slightly muddy faces laughing at each other. We got away with that one, but learnt a valuable lesson as well.

If I had to do it over again:
Honestly… Apart from trying to organise a research project to gain free park access, there was nothing in that week that I would have done differently. Perhaps keeping my cool a little better with the corrupt police and having the foresight to bring a Smart Phone on an Africa safari, but everything else worked out brilliantly. We had also established a new, slower pace of travel which suites us both very well indeed! All and all, week 12 was a great success with little issues.

11: Bangweulu - Mutinondo (Zambia)

Zambia Pictures Here:

Week 11 update:

Day 71:
The wind through the night was relentless and loud and never subsided. We woke up early to the sound of crashing waves on the beach we were camped out on. Lessons previously learnt dictated that when you have decent facilities you use them as often as you can, so after another abuse of the really nice and hot shower we hit the road again.

We were definitely starting to venture into the unknown. Neither Tracks 4 Africa nor Garmap had any accuracy as far as travel times were concerned and the road conditions were unknown to us. The paper map we bought at Kasanka’s Wasa lodge seemed to be the most accurate in the road surface descriptions and where camping places were. (ISBN 3-932084-30-6)Our plan for the day was to visit as many waterfalls as we could and they were all indicated on the paper map. Tracks 4 Africa was a little sketchy and the spelling was not the same as the book or paper map we had and Garmap was simply no where on the same planet. At the town of Mansa we turned north and then at Kampalala we headed North West, hugging the border to the DRC. We had been a little worried about the stability in the area, but when we noticed that we were pretty much driving on a bridge spanning masses and masses of dombwes and water I kind of figured that no rebels would be caught dead in a place like that. The roadside had very few people on it and those who were present simply tried to sell their catch of the day.

Musonda Falls were the first we though we could see. We found the place easy enough as it is right on the tar road. When we wanted to turn off to try and see the falls we were however stopped by security from the power station and informed that we could not drive that way. The man said that we could leave the vehicle by the roadside across the river and take a walk, which we decided against as this was at a busy village intersection where hundreds of excited faces were already staring at us. We find it very difficult to be alone in Zambia.

The next falls we were meant to reach were Mambilima Falls which we could not find the turn off to at all, so we had to skip that as well. By this time we had decided to head straight to our planned overnight stop at NtumbaChushi Falls. This we found without any problems. We were greeted at the gate by Sederick who informed us the price would be $15 per person and $5 for the car to stay for the night and see the falls. We paid in Kwacha as that was what he preferred. It was expensive, we thought, but at least we had access and accommodation for that.

The camp site was at the bottom of the falls about 30m away from the actual sheet of rushing, deafening falling water. You had to raise your voice to be able to communicate. It was astonishing! I enquired about a shower and the waterfall was pointed at. I enquired about a toilet and a small building by the entrance gate was pointed out. Later inspection by Catt revealed that it was a hole in the ground with a bunch of bees flying around. Nice! Back at our camp site we were invaded by small flies, later identified as Mopani Flies. They were as many in number and as irritating as midges and while eating lunch I suddenly realized how well Catt and I know each other and how well we communicate without words. With a million irritating little insects buzzing around, trying to gain access to every orifice in our heads and eyes, we had a polite conversation over a plate of food before distancing ourselves from the scene to make a plan. It was simple… The mosquito net from week one made a re-appearance and we set up our happy “bug free zone” in the shade of our big tree. In week 2 Catt wanted to buy a bigger mosquito net for this purpose, but I protested so much, thinking that we would not need it again, that she expertly avoided the argument by not mentioning it again. As we crawled into our little happy place she smiled and said: “suddenly that R800 for the bigger net doesn’t seem so much any more…” I had to agree… out loud…

As the afternoon drew on we left the bug free zone and took a walk to the top of the waterfall. Some distance upstream we found some cascading rapids and a suitably calm and deep pool to have a swim and a scrub down in. Hygiene dealt with we walked to the bottom of the falls again and spent the necessary effort obtaining the photographs to substitute the adjectives needed to describe the wonderful, deafening scene.

As night fell, the flies went away. We left the happy zone standing, but braved the wide outside world, setting the light up in a tree as far as the cable would allow away from us. We managed to cook a fine meal, have a nice conversation with raised voices and play some games without the bugs and went to bed wondering how we would fall asleep with the sound of the waterfall so loud. We managed just fine.

Day 72:
We woke up early needing to piddle…We guessed that was what the sound of falling water does to you. Our plan for the day was to reach Chisamba Falls close to the city of Kasama. Because of the $35 entry fee for each of the falls we decided to skip the sight seeing and just concentrate on the places we were staying at. Although we had a mere 300km to cover we still set of early. At the town of Kawambwa the tar stopped. I was not prepared for this at all, but Catt, who had studied the paper map, knew all about it. I suddenly had flash backs of the Binga-Kariba road which took a full day to complete the same distance. This road was better. At least you could se the holes and I was in no hurry, so took it easy. The meandering dirt took us passed and through settlement and villages and we saw no sign of the road ever being used by another vehicle. There were millions upon millions of bicycle tracks and human footprints. There were dozens of goat herds, chicken flocks and even the odd pig or two. Everyone seemed to be doing something, selling something, or on their way to somewhere. No one just sat by the road doing nothing. It was obviously a nation at work to survive and not a lazy folk.

I was suddenly aware of a warning light on the dash board and when I saw it was the timing belt warning light, I was mildly concerned. In the few minutes the different reasons for this ran through my mind I suddenly noticed that Maggie had turned over to 300 000km on the odometer. The T-Belt was scheduled to be replaced every 100 000km, so the warning light was just a reminder. Pfew! Saying that, I had been worried about a hole in the timing belt cover which I suspected was also caused by that pesky Aircon fan belt breaking a few weeks before. I decided to check it out the next morning when the engine was cold.

We reached Chisamba Falls, sometimes spelt “Chishamba” by mid afternoon and were faced with a group of about 50 locals having a picnic. It was Saturday. It was nice to see that the facilities and parks were not only for Masungu’s, but that the locals also used it. We were assured many times that the group would leave by 17:00 and that we should not worry about security. We were not worried until the 5th time it was mentioned, but then again… We also appreciated that these guys just wanted us to be happy and relax. The fee for camping was the same as at NtumbaChushi, but these guys did not charge us for the car’s entry. I did not argue. They also had brand new sparkling clean flush toilets, but the shower was still el natural. We were told about the new information centre which was due to be officially opened two weeks later. The place also boasted a new curio shop, a Take Away restaurant which was almost complete and a normal restaurant at the turnoff by the main road. You could see that someone there had a vision and was making many improvements to try and attract more tourists.

From our camp site next to dam and weir, we walked passed some cascading rapids big enough so you could feel the breeze generated by the moving water. We also saw some smaller falls upstream for the dam which was equally impressive. Armed with camera and tripod, and also wash stuff to enjoy the comforts of cold streams of crystal clear water, we set of down the path in search of a suitable bathing spot. At the bottom of the very impressive 60m high falls we found a secluded and calm pool of perfect proportions for our daily wash. We had to wait for the last tourists to depart before stripping down and plunging in, but this was fine as neither the water, nor the air temperature was cold in any way. Realizing the negative impact of soap in natural water we used some bio degradable stuff and tried not to linger too long. This was made easier by the fish insisting on nibbling on my toes at some point and the loss of body temperature while being submerged.

As the sun slid behind the horizon, the tripod and camera got to work! I love photographing moving water at low light. I set the camera up and selected a 30 second exposure in all the different angles I could see. The mighty waterfall played its part with bellowing vapour as the water hit the granite after its 60 meter freefall. It was magnificent and I was in my element! Catt and I took some family photos before taking a brisk walk back to the camp site, reaching it just before dark. We were introduced to Michael, the security night guard and assured that we were safe, and we would be the only people there that night. We felt safe…

Day 73:
It was easy waking up with the sun when the weather was clear, warm and windless. We still had the sounds of water right next to us, so nature’s call came a little more urgently than normal. The flush loos were a bonus and after a quick splash below the weir, we set of to the first major goal in our African adventure. This was the day we would reach the bottom of the Great Rift Valley at the bottom of Lake Tanganyika. After closely inspecting the timing belt cover, and finding some significant damage, we decided to stop by a spares shop in Kasama to try and get a new cover. It was Sunday, so I wasn’t very hopeful.

We found an open supermarket for some much needed supply shopping, a fuel station which supplied us with Diesel at a rate bordering robbery and a spares shop who, as I had suspected, told us that the needed part could only be bought at the agents. Kasama does not have a Toyota agent, so we decided to have a go at mending it ourselves.

The drive to Mpulungu was easy and non eventful. The roads were surprisingly smooth with no pot holes and we made exceptionally good time. According to our paper map and the “ever accurate” Lonely Planet guide, Tanganyika Lodge offered camping and was as far south on the lake as you could get. We followed the pink line on the GPS through the suburbs of Mpulungu, crossed some hills where I was not sure if we had left the road or not and after asking some directions, we eventually happened upon the great lodge.

On the way we had discussed filling our water tank, charging electronics and perhaps using the lodge’s Wi-Fi to update the website. This “Lodge” had a sign offering fishing, boat trips and even SCUBA diving. However, we suspected this to be a very old sign. The place seemed deserted. Idyllic, but deserted. A young man appeared from a hut next door and after a short chat we had established the possibility of camping as well as the reasonable rate of K30k ($6) per person. They also offered a flush loo and a hot shower and we could park anywhere. Without delay we manoeuvred Magurudumu onto the pebbly beach and within 10m of the water in-between two thatch roof patios. We had found paradise at last!

It was time to pay some attention to the timing belt cover and the belt itself, so we got stuck in and removed it, found a little dust around the belt which was easily blown off with the help of our compressor and the Gaffer Tape was hauled in to do a quick, non permanent field repair.

The lake shore, as any lake shore in Africa I suspected, was busy. Boats of people coming and going were pretty constant and fisherman going about their daily routine was evident everywhere. Our little secluded spot was however avoided by everyone, but the owner, Christopher. We were left to go snorkelling, chill in the sun and read some books until the sun went down. It was brilliantly peaceful and relaxing! I noticed Christopher’s family was carrying water from the lake to a drum outside the shower and when they had filled it up we were informed that the shower was hot and ready. There was a fire roaring under the drum, so the temperature of the water was no mystery.

I was really impressed with this shower building. It was about 3 by 5 meters in size. It contained a dressing table with mirror, a basin and a shower the size of a big bath. There was one pipe running into a normal tap and a shower head was attached to that. The drum on the fire outside was higher than the building, so the water pressure was phenomenal. The shower head was more “sprinkler” that shower, so the volume of water was impressive! The temperature was perfect as well. The only down side was the slight guilt I felt towards the people who had to carry the water to fill the drum so the Musungu could be impressed with the fine shower.

While we were preparing dinner the lake’s water got lit up by no less than 37 lights attached to 37 fishing boats. These guys were out there in the dark setting their nets, or retrieving them, and they were still at it by the time we had our dinner, washed our dishes, drank our wine and went to bed. Like I said before, this was not a nation of lazy folk.

Day 74:
The lake was so calm and the wind so still that we did not wake up to the sound of moving water or waves breaking. I woke up in time to see the horizon turn pink and then yellow and the fist rays of sunshine to hit the water lit it up in a deep purple. It was great to just lie in the tent, experience nature’s work and not needing to do anything but acknowledge the greatness of its creation. The first sounds of the morning were the laughter of children which must be one of the most powerful “happy” sounds in existence.

We sat, drinking our morning coffee, watching Christopher’s son check his fishing nets and taking the catch of the night out, handing it to his 2 year old sister who proudly carried each fish to the stash on the beach. After another guilt trip to the really nice shower we said our fond good byes and promised to spread the word of the great place we had stayed at. Christopher told us not to use the road through the village as the other road (He pointed in the opposite direction) was much better.

He was right, the road was much better and I was only really scared two or three times. We hit the tar again and made our way around the lake shore to the town of Kawimbe where we turned west towards Kalambo Falls. This was to be the furthest north we would get in Zambia as the falls and the river that forms it marks the border between Zambia and Tanzania.

The tar stopped abruptly at Kawimbe and the when we turned off the main road for the last 30km to the falls we entered the nervous world of the dotted line on the map. The simple track was easy to drive at slow speed although I would have hated to try and negotiate it in the wet. We passed through numerous villages and settlements and eventually reached the Kalambo Falls parking before mid day. By then we knew the National Trust and waterfall score. $35 would get us in and pay for camping. Only this guy wanted to charge us double that. He said that the price for camping was $15 each, but the entry fee was also $15 each and $5 for the car. Seriously, at $65 a night we might as well drive back to South Africa and fly to Europe as our budget would never make it. After a short discussion and producing the receipts from the previous two National Trusts waterfalls it was agreed that we could stay for the night for the $35 we had expected. For our money we got a hole in the ground as a toilet and a fast flowing river above a 200m waterfall as a water source. No way would we even contemplate swimming in it for fear of being dragged over the falls.

The falls themselves: They are reportedly the second highest waterfalls in Africa at 200m. It was not the wet season, so you could actually walk to the edge of the falls and peer over. They were impressive! The BASE jumper in me had a much faster heartbeat and started scoping the valley for a landing area, which did not exist but the exit points were endless and perfect! It was fun to dream.

It was a boiling hot day and very little shade existed in the camp site. We created our own with the help of our awning and proceeded in spending another lazy afternoon in a great place in Zambia’s natural world.

We saw the comings and goings of a couple of South African vehicles, shared our experiences at Tanganyika Lodge with them and waved them good bye. In the late afternoon we decided to take a walk to the viewpoints and see what these falls were all about. We took some stunning photographs at the top of the falls and decided there and then to mount them on the wall… when we have a wall again. It was around that time that the inner conflict started… We both agreed that the falls were impressive. We both agreed that they were very, very high, and we both agreed that when in flood, they would be insanely spectacular. However, we both preferred the falls at Chisamba. The things that counted massively against Kalambo were 1: The ridiculous price they wanted to charge and 2: The mission of the 30km drive to get there which takes at least an hour.

Once again we enjoyed our solitude in the camp site that evening. We could not even hear other people and the waterfall was far enough away to have a pleasant hum instead of a deafening rumble. The wind came up as we headed off to bed and it persisted fairly heavily through the night.

Day 75:
The day started still windy and fairly chilly. After visiting the hole my $35 paid for I noticed that one of the tyres were low on pressure, so I employed the compressor to do its job. I was a little disappointed to have another puncture, but reckoned 15 000km between events were probably acceptable, keeping in mind the roads and conditions we were exposing the rubber to on a daily basis. We still managed to leave within 20 minutes of getting up. Both of us were highly excited about the destination for the day. We had decided to head to the Kapishya Hot Springs and stay for at least two nights.

On the road out we encountered our first begging children in Zambia. It was noticeable how the groups of kids would run to the side of the road when they heard the vehicle approaching and stand with the arms stretched out and their hands cupped shouting something I could not understand. It saddened me to realize that it was some IDIOT Musungu who corrupted these poor people by handing out things when they had passed. It angered me when I noticed a young boy throwing a rock after us for not stopping and it damn right pissed me off when another kid ran after the car and slapped the spare wheel with his hand because we did not give him anything. Shame on the western world and its tourists for creating this obscenity!

A quick stop in Kasama got us some more cash, some new shock absorber bushes (just in case) and a chat to another South African family who also got referred to the paradise of Christopher at Tanganyika Lodge. I almost felt like starting to charge Christopher a commission for all the people we had sent there. In light of the amount of water carrying I was bringing upon his family, I decided against burdening the poor fellow with money matters.

The tar roads were all good and going was easy. The one or two truck size pot holes were easy to spot and avoid until we left the tar about 90km south of Kasama. The track to the hot springs was being repaired when we passed through. We crossed over a few newly repaired and currently being repaired bridges and just as we thought the worst was over we came head to head with a grater. At least it was as bright yellow as a UK speed camera, and moving, so after making way for each other we meandered on through some low hills and reached the Kapishya for lunch.

We were met by Mark Harvey, the owner and shown to a hectically busy camp site! There were no less than 10 other vehicles including a massive MAN truck. It was a fairly clear great trek of my countrymen, obviously running away from the madness of the world Cup Football, or perhaps simply taking advantage of the much extended school holidays, courtesy of the World Cup Football. The lodge was fairly busy as well. We sat at the bar enjoying a drink and having a chat to a local pilot, Edmond for a while. He told us that he had crossed Africa from the north in the 80’s and we swopped stories of bizarre vehicles issues. We won with the Aircon Fan belt breaking the fan and the timing belt cover and dented the bonnet… After failing to upload the website we realized that it had got dark outside, so scurried back to the camp site to tend to dinner.

Day 76:
We got woken up an hour before sunrise by the crowds in the camp site making ready to leave. I was convinced that they would leave fairly soon after, but when they were still busy packing up two hours later, we could do nothing but laugh. In the light, and while they were still packing up we could only describe the scene as an LA Sport outdoor show. (LA Sport was the 4x4 outfitters for the more affluent in South Africa) Every camping tool and gadget was visible in plain site and every man, woman and child showed off their latest bit of kit. It was a truly phenomenal site! The off road trailers were heavily over loaded and the one off road caravan was so heavy that it creaked loudly in protest at the seems as the mighty 4.5l petrol engine pulled it from its overnight resting place. We almost felt completely unequipped as the last of the group vacated the camp site and left us in peace!

We got up… eventually and strolled over to the hot spring. The water was warmer than bath water and took some getting used to, but it was heavenly! Mark and his wife arrived shortly after and we had a fine time chatting about politics, finances and the general ridiculousness of the gear the group who had just left was dragging in their wake. After an hour or so in the hot water I had to get out and it was time for an admin and maintenance day.

We removed the timing belt cover again with a plan of using plastic and a gallon of silicone to repair it. The temporary gaffer tape was barely holding on. I changed the leaky tyre for one of the spares and decided to have a second go at fixing a puncture. While Catt was modelling the plastic and silicon like a seasoned expert I crawled under the car with some more silicon to try and fix the leaky exhaust joint once and for all. By the time I surfaced again the cover looked like new and was drying in the sun. We decided to leave it for the day and fit it the next day.

Catt had to reduce our newly purchased 5kg bag of flower so that it could fit in the allocated space, so she planned some marathon baking mission. As she started kneading batches of dough I rolled the leaky tyre into the river to try and find the bubbles. Shortly after I decided to start a competition of “who has had the weirdest shit happen to them on a trip like this…” The tyre was fine. There was no leak. The leak was in the rim! I mean, come on, seriously! A leaky rim? I’m not even talking about a beading issue here. It was obvious that a weld or something had cracked and the tiny bubbles poured out while small fishes were nibbling at my toes. I had to laugh!

Back at mission control the baking was well underway and I used some Pratley Steel to try and mend the rim. I also decided to leave that overnight before trying to put air back into the tyre to measure the success. To top it off, our deep cycle battery had decided to pick this day to die. Not a major issue, as we managed to run the fridge of Solar for the rest of the day, but still another little thing that needed to be dealt with. I realized that my new chosen profession was simply “Problem Solver”, but I kind of liked it.

In the afternoon we had 12 breads of varying sizes and shapes and full bellies from the left over steak of the night before with some new sweet potato cakes Catt managed to whisk up in-between baking breads. We packed the tools and stuff away and headed back to the Lodge’s bar for sundowners. We made definite plans to visit the hotness of the spring after supper.

A couple of drinks later, with website still not updated we decided to give up on that idea and rather concentrated on something we had full control over… Making dinner. This consisted of hot dogs with freshly baked bread, some of the yummy tomato based relish Catt had made the week before and thick beef sausage we got from Fringilla Farm’s superb butchery. Dinner was accompanied by the last of our fine red wine, which was dealt with swiftly. As we were gulping the last of the food down we got up, grabbed our towels and headed for the spring.

At the spring the steam was raising off the 40 deg C water and there was not a soul in sight. We waded into the eerie water slowly, trying to get used to the heat before simply having a seat on a rock under the surface and having a chat. It was right there where we decided that we simply had to have one of them hot spring things where ever we ended up living next. We also concluded that no self respecting human should ever be forced to live without one. With our heads in the clouds we headed back to the camp site, looking forward to the solitude that was bestowed upon us since the big group left. Our dream got shattered by the arrival of three vehicles, one trailer and around 6 kids who had been cropped up in a vehicle for the preceding 8 hours. This was evident by their energy and lack in volume control. They quieted down shortly after arrival and allowed us a peaceful nights rest none the less.

Day 77:
We had intended to sleep in for a change… That didn’t happen at all because of the prospect of spending an early morning, coffee in hand, in the hot spring again. So that’s exactly what we did, continuing our conversation about having one of them hot spring things for ourselves, and then venturing into theories of harnessing natural energy to produce a hot water pool of some sorts.

Philosophy and dreams dealt with, it was time to get things done again. I fitted the Timing Belt cover which Catt had expertly patched the day before and I put the newly fixed (Not confirmed at that stage) wheel back on the spare wheel carrier. We gathered all out things up and went to the lodge to pay our bill and say good bye to our hosts. I handed Mark a bag full of stuff left over from sorting out our spares box which he gratefully exchanged for the time we abused his internet for. A fair exchange we felt.

Just as we were about to set off I enquired about ground coffee as I saw a grinder mounted on the wall. Mark informed us that he grew his own coffee which was enough to sustain the lodge for about 8 months of the year. This seemed like magic to me, so I simply had to have a look at that. Mark walked us to his orchard where, true as Bob, there were coffee trees, with coffee beans on them. He explained the process and answered all my questions as I decided that I wanted not only a hot spring for myself, but also wanted to grow my own coffee… I was quite impressed with how much the lodge actually grew for it self. They had paw-paws, tomatoes, lettuce, beans, bananas etc, etc… and coffee!

It was very difficult to cross the bridge over the hot spring without stopping for another hour or two, but we had promised to chat to the new group about their travel plans before setting off. The group was from Cape Town, on their way to Serengeti and had four and a half weeks to complete their round trip. They were basing their plans on a previous trip people had completed in 3 weeks. Honestly, I would not consider it in any less time than 6 weeks, but then again, I also don’t arrive at camp sites at 20:00 at night! They had a dream though and realizing that dream meant long travel days and driving after dark. We wished them the best of luck, had our early lunch and set off passed the old Manor House (Shiwa Ngandu or Africa Manor House) built by Mark’s grandfather and turned south on the great north road.

The old Mr. Harvey was instrumental in the forming of Banda’s government in the old Zambia. He was almost seen as an informal advisor, but also personal friend of the president and by all accounts a great man. The buildings around the Manor reminds of English houses and come complete with upstairs/downstairs, slate roofs, paddocks all around and even planted Blue Gum trees around wavering streams. These were obviously where the farm workers used to live and still lived now. The Manor House itself costs $20 per person to go see, so we didn’t bother.

Our journey took us to Mpika and through the most horrendous pot holes known to man. They were seriously big enough to swallow trucks and from the marks left on the road and next to it, it was evident that they had swallowed some pretty big machinery in the past. We took it easy and navigated through or around them in our own time reaching Mpika after a couple of hours. The town was a little smaller that I had imagined it to be and as we went in search of some groceries, a new deep cycle battery and wine, I realised that the task was not small. We found cooking oil at a bakery, which was pretty urgent, wine at a lodge who charged us a third less per box than the supermarkets (I bought 2) and completely lucked out on the concept of a new battery. We decided to put solar energy to the test for the next week and moved on.

Our destination for the day was Mutinondo Wilderness Camp on the western side of the Luangwa Valley and about an hour and a half south of Mpika. Thanks to Tracks for Africa’s wrong descriptions we ended up at a bush camp called Kankonde, but eventually found the lodge and camp site half an hour later. The owners were away on holiday so the lodge was being looked after by Danny and Helen, a young adventurous couple who had big ideas. Our reason for visiting Mutinondo was that they clamed to be an echo lodge, or environmentally friendly and we were very interested in seeing the way they do things.

The answer was solar… They had a few solar panels charging a bank of deep cycle batteries and running only their office equipment from it. The water for the camp site was pumped from the river by solar pump, but heated by making fire under a boiler. Not 100% environmentally friendly when noticing the mountain of wood which had been chopped down to sustain the camp and lodge. In the camp site they had bins for different types of refuge, but I couldn’t work out what they would actually do with the glass or plastic or tin which was collected in these bins.

Important to us though, we were the only people in a lovely camp site with free fire wood. It was about as cheap to camp there as we had found in Zambia and Helen and Danny were super friendly, chatty and even invited us rock climbing the next day.

If I had to do it over again:
Chatting to Edmond in the bar at Kapishya I realized that we had missed out on a brilliant place called Shoebill Campsite in the Bangweulu National Park. This was also charged by Wasa Lodge in Kasanka National Park, so would have been expensive, but by all accounts, really worth it and even more so than Kasanka. Hindsight is a wonderful thing!

The waterfalls were impressive, but expensive, so limiting our time there was definitely the right move. Of the three we stayed at, NtumbaChushi and Chisamba were fantastic and worth it. Kolambo falls were not. Sorry to say, but even the massive 200m fall of water did not warrant the expense of driving there, entering there, or camping there. I struggle to understand how they can charge $10 per person for Victoria Falls, but $15 per person and $5 for a car at the little known, hell to get to place with no facilities.

Tanganyika Lodge was priceless! If they had charged three times what they did, I still would not have felt ripped off and I will send as many people there as I can. Mark Harvey mentioned another place in the area which apparently is also fantastic, but I can’t remember the name and wouldn’t really make the effort to find out.

Kapishya is an absolute must for anyone travelling in or through Zambia. So much so that I would take a full days detour to spend two nights there. Spending less than two nights would be silly as the place is just so nice and spending 3 nights would be easy!

Mutinondo is a good distance away for another stay, but again, spending less than two nights would be a waste.

It may seem from this week’s update that we have spending a lot of time fixing problems with our vehicle. Tracing the root of the problem though, everything except for the battery can be traced back to hitting a pot hole between Binga and Kariba at too might a speed. The shock absorber bush, the leaky rim and the leaking exhaust are all on that side of the car. The other damage was all from the Aircon fan belt breaking. Lesson here: Never be in a hurry on a bad road. Simple!

10: Mukambi - Bangweulu (Zambia)


Zambia Pictures Here:

Week 10 update:

Day 64:
We were invited to join a nature walk with some of the lodge’s guests, so we were up before the sun crept over the horizon. By the tent door we were met by Simba, the wildcat who escorted us through the dark to the lodge. We were obviously the first people to arrive as not even the kitchen light was on yet, but the tranquillity and silence of the morning was immense! We watched the grey sky flood with colour and the sun’s first rays hitting the water of the mighty Kafue River. There are simply no adjectives to describe what we saw.

The walking party consisted of the two of us, the guide, a trainee guide and a man from ZAWA (Zambian Wildlife Authority). He had to accompany us and with his rifle as only official people are allowed to carry or use rifles in the park. This was all in case we were charged by Elephant or Lion or something else that could kill us… we were informed. We boarded a boat to cross the river, had a short briefing and commenced our walk. Catt and I had been on many walks in many different places and realized long before that you rarely, if ever saw any animals when walking. However, if you have a good local guide that was willing to share the wealth of information these guys have, it can be a very rewarding experience. Our guide on the day, Akim, was one of those rare people. He was often challenging to understand as, like many other Zambians, he often swopped his L’s and R’s around... So the Lilac Breasted Roller would become “The Rirac Bleasted Lorrel” or something to that effect.

We learnt about the local trees and plants, the way the Hippo trails turn into rivers and the life cycle of Elephant poo… It was brilliant! Because Elephants don’t digest their food well, their droppings are full of moisture and undigested seeds, berries etc. So after they do the thing, some antelope would lick it to get the moisture and minerals from it. After them the Mongoose would come around and steal some fruit. The termites would then come along and cover the dung before the Guinea fowl would scrape it open again and start the cycle all over…

About half way through our walk we saw some Puku around some water and while watching them, noticed some other animals around. It was a couple of Bush Pig. I could only remember ever seeing Bush Pig once before and that was in the dark, so this sighting, at 9am was pretty special! Even Mr ZAWA was impressed! He tried to edge us a little closer, but the pigs soon fled the scene, retreating into9 some much thicker bush where it would have been a little hazardous for us to follow.

Back at the lodge we spent the rest of the day with some more, and much needed housekeeping. The Freezer was defrosted, the washing done (By the lodge staff as they can do it much better than we can) and Jacques and I tried to sort out the shock absorber bush and engine number problem. The shock bush proved insanely difficult as the retaining nut was holding fast, but we eventually won with the help of a Monkey wrench and long reach sockets. From the buried evidence it looked like a few years of salt air welded the nut onto the top of the shock. We were unable to locate the number punch, so the engine number had to wait for another day. While this was happening Catt used the older vegetables to fry up a relish which we could then freeze and use later.

For the evening meal we were invited to Linda and Jacques’s impressive house. Jacques built this place over a fair amount of time, but even did all the masonry and carpentry by himself. The kitchen is suited to Linda’s chef training and the water hole right in front of the house provides constant entertainment by animals coming for a drink. We feasted on a truly South African Braai which consisted of WAAAYYYYY too much meat, very little vegetables and some pap and salsa. This was accompanied by copious amounts of Mosi Beer and red wine.

It was a great end to a great day in Africa’s bush, shared by new and already great friends!

Day 65:
We joined the game drive for the morning. Once again up before dawn and at the lodge before anyone else. We took the boat across the river and boarded the lodge’s game drive vehicles there. The guide, Gilbert obviously knew his birds well and thought us about the Capped Weatear which I had never heard of before. The bush was really quiet and the mammals seemed to be hiding. It was bitterly cold, so I did not blame them. We saw the usual plains game, some Elephant and a lot of evidence of activity in the area. We passed a few other self drive vehicles only to be told that no one seemed to have much game viewing luck.

Back at the lodge I offered to do a 360 deg image for Linda and that had to be discussed and set up for the afternoon. Catt and I spent the rest of the day relaxing mostly. The housekeeping was well under control and Joseph, the camp site manager even offered to give Magurudumu its first wash since the alarm clock of the Lion and Elephant almost a month earlier.

Heather and Alastair, a couple from a farm just outside of Lusaka came back from their afternoon drive with beaming smiles and excited voices. They had spotted a large herd of Elephants, followed by a larger herd of Buffalo, followed by a Lion Kill. What more could one ask for on a drive in Africa?

Linda came into the lodge all excited and asked if I had my camera handy, which of course I did. She walked us over to the house and pointed out Basil, the resident wild Hippo who had taken refuge on their patio while Jacques and Tyrone were watching the Rugby match. That sight had to rate very high in my “weirdest things I have ever seen” O-meter. Basil was not a baby hippo, but the dominant males apparently did not like him, so he was hiding from them. His hind legs were almost touching the glass patio doors and the couches with the rugby fans on were less than two meters way. No one bothered anyone else and everyone was pretty much happy with whatever it was what they had been doing.

After the photography was dealt with we offered to make dinner and drove over to the house to abuse the kitchen. Catt makes the best Bobotie (Pronounced Boobwoutee) ever! It’s a sweet, Malayan Curry with mince, baked in an over with egg on top of it. Catt had figured out the perfect mix of spices for it a few weeks before. She made the whole dish in a cast iron flat bottomed pot on a Weber braai on coals. Linda stir fried a fine selection of veggies and Jacques, Tyrone (The Plains camp Manager) and I got stuck into the Mosi. Everyone was suitably impressed with the meal and everyone managed to over eat to the point of bursting. The wine and beer was flowing freely and before we knew it, it was past 11PM… again!

Sometime in the middle of a very dark night I got poked in the ribs by Catt asking if I was awake. I had been for a few minutes as I was woken up by the vibrations caused by a Lion’s roar. The sound was also defending and it was so close to our tent that I could hear its footprints fall into the gravel path. I was lying perfectly still and did not dare move or make a sound. Yes, I was awake…

Day 66:
We had decided to drive up to Lufupa Plains Camp for the day. Tyrone and his two friends were also on their way in that direction for a two day holiday for Tyrone’s birthday. They left about 30 minutes before us. At the gate to the park we were met by Princess, the tiny female ZAWA official, with her AK47 over the shoulder. She told us how she had been chased into her house by a Leopard the previous evening and how she couldn’t chase it away. She was forced to stay indoors the whole night.

We followed the well marked and newly graded road towards the camp and were astonished by the amount of animal activity in the park. The tracks told many stories of many animals crossing the road and Lion footprints the size of dinner plates were clearly visible over the tracks of the vehicle driven by Tyrone. We were honestly expecting to see Lions at any second. We did see some interesting birds, including a couple of Wattled Cranes and a Roan antelope, the highest antelope in the world. We spotted some Yellow Baboons and bizarre Waterbuck without the right on their bums. NAMES>>>>>>

Driving along with the windows done up in the later part of the morning to avoid the Tsetse flies, Catt shouted HALT and pointed at two fully grown Cheetah happily wandering towards an oblivious herd of Impala. We opened the windows, let the Tsetse flies in and tried to take some pictures. I was once again astonished at the speed at which these animals move, without even trying to go fast. That counted for the Cheetah as well.

At Lufupa Camp we were met by the receptionists and introduced to some staff members on the way to their deck and lounge area. We enquired about Tyrone’s party and after being pointed to him were promptly invited to get onto their game drive vehicle. This was being driven by Phil, their general manager. We were driven to a place where the morning game drive had spotted some Wild Dog earlier and had no trouble at all locating them on the open and dry plains. Phil explained that it was three adults who broke away from a pack of 38 dogs in the area. This I found unbelievable as I always saw the Madikwe dogs in packs of 23 as large packs! Phil’s story informed us that dogs needed to be at least 4 or 5 in a pack to be viable, but for some reason these three were doing fine. This was evident by the size of their recently filled bellies and their reluctance to move more than absolutely necessary. The most activity they could muster was to lift their heads lazily when we arrived. It was clearly a hard Dog’s life in Africa!

Back at the lodge we joined the group for a Pizza lunch, our first Pizza since leaving Pretoria, and possibly the most expensive Pizza I had ever had. The lodge in managed by Wilderness Safaris and they are not known as a budget travellers dream. However, they do offer camping at standard and affordable rates at Lufupa and any visitor was apparently welcome to use their facilities and free WIFI internet. On the other end of the scale, their solution to the problem of impassable roads on wet flood plains was to helicopter their guests around. I did not ask the cost! We also spent the time chatting to Luke and Bettina, a managing couple from a lodge in Malawi. We made a definite decision to meet up with them when in Malawi.

As the gang went fishing we started heading back to Mukambi. We timed it well and left ourselves a pleasant afternoon’s drive back filled with sightings of Puku, Impala, Hartebeest, Roan and those waterbuck without the white ring on the backside. We reached Jacques and Linda’s house just in time to see a Side Striped Jackal drinking in between the Puku and Impala by their waterhole.

Mukambi had a full house that evening consisting of ZAWA officials, nature lovers and people from the World Bank. They were meeting to discuss the possibility of a massive cash injection to establish much needed infra structure in the park with the aim of boosting tourism and making the park financially viable. We joined a table for dinner consisting of personal friends of Linda and Peter, an elderly gentleman, obviously British (Cambridge accent I thought) who had been born in India and had spent most of his life in Kafue… He was busy writing a guide book on the park which had been commissioned by a Danish sponsor.

Our last night at Mukambi ended by the fire place in bar, finishing just one more bottle of fine wine with Jacques and Linda, our fantastic hosts and seemingly great friends. Maggie was in the car park, so we drove back to the camp site. A brief stop at the loo revealed a couple of Elephant on the water line. They were a little close for comfort, but we snuck to the tent and just before climbing into it I heard another noise. When I directed the mighty beam of the Fenix light in that direction I saw the tail of another, bigger Elephant less than 10 meters away from us with his feet in the river. We snuck into our tent, without any light and silently went to bed, hoping that the big boy was not bothered by our obvious presence. His answer came in the form of a dull, but loud THUD as his droppings hit the ground right next to the tent before moving off in search of more food. I fell asleep wondering which antelope would come investigate the poo before the termites covered it.

Day 67:
It was time to leave Mukambi. I did not want to, so getting out of bed proved more difficult than usual. Joseph the camp site manager had the fire in the boiler going before we had even asked so we managed one last visit to the fine tiled bathroom. We managed to get all our things sorted out, said our sad good byes to Linda and hit the long road west by 8am.

Lusaka was a very manic place! Not as manic as we had expected, but if ever there was a city that could do with a ring road to alleviate the through traffic, Lusaka would be it. Jacques had directed us to the windscreen fitters they use, which was our first port of call in the fair city. Traffic was moving slowly, but steadily and we found the dodgy part of town and the windscreen shop without any trouble at all. It seemed that you had shops supplying the glass, and other guys fitting them. There was no space for buildings or big workshops, so the fitting took place on the street. I was a little sceptical at first, but by the fifth car that arrived to get a new windscreen I relaxed and let the experts do their job. Two hours and only K900 000 (About $175) later we hit the road with a brand new shatter proof windscreen, expertly fitted on the dusty streets of dodgy Lusaka. We briefly stopped at a spares shop for a new radiator fan. The radiator fan had been damaged by the second Aircon fan belt breaking a few weeks earlier, so it really needed replacing…
We stopped at another shop for a local Cell phone simcard, a garage for some fuel and wine and left the city as quickly as reaching it, barely surviving the complete lack of traffic rules and being shouted at for stopping at a red light.

Every person helping us, or stopping us in a roadblock or police checkpoint wanted to know about the Football World Cup for which we could offer no information at all! It still proved an easy topic for initializing small talk and much easier than producing documentation or having the vehicle inspected by authorities. By and large all officials were as friendly as the ones in Zimbabwe and no one ever asked anything more than a little resp0ect, a little friendliness and a short chat.

Heather and Alastair, whom we had met at Mukambi, had invited us to stay with them for a day or two. Alastair was a manager for a massive Zambeef farm outside of Lusaka which happened to be right across the road from Fringilla Farm where we had planned to stay overnight. Zambeef also had a massive mechanical workshop to tend to their mass of vehicles with a very talented mechanic and workshop manager who could help us with our little engine number problem. Alastair was still on leave, so he met us the house with Heather and their two young children: Ethan (4) and Abigail (2). Heather, from Wales and Catt connected like two old friends with friendly banter about Mud Island (The UK) and the rivalry between the Welsh and the rest of humanity. Alastair and I helped to pick two massive Paw-Paws and a bag full of lemons we were not allowed to leave without.

With Alastair and the workshops help all our remaining vehicle related issues were swiftly dealt with before sunset and with ruthless efficiency. Catt accompanied Heather across the road to Fringilla Farm, the post office and inspected the butchery. It was instantly established that Fringilla is a place no traveller should ever pass by.

Back at the house we had an amazing meal prepared by Heather, lots of beer provided by Alastair and wine we had bought in Lusaka earlier. It was agreed that we would take a day to regroup and make our further plans. The evening’s conversation was dominated by hunting stories Alastair and I swapped. He told me of a recent trip he went on and the ridiculously low fees they paid for the privilege. I was promptly invited to join them on a trip and vowed to return in a year or so to do just that.

Although not surprised that much, we were still impressed by the incredible hospitality Africa’s people have to their kind. There we were, apparent strangers in a house in a different country, acting like friends of old and extending future invitations. It was fantastic to be part of it!

Day 68:
Man farmers get up early! I heard Alastair leave before 5am and Heather had to attend to some business in town. She left by 6:30. We got up at least an hour later and relished in the luxury of an en suite bathroom. We spent half the morning planning our next few weeks incorporating some very handy tips we got from Mukambi. Shortly after we ventured back across the road to Fringilla farm’s butchery and free WIFI.

The butchery was brilliant! They offered all the meats and cuts you would expect from a modern butcher at very affordable prices and packaged the way you prefer it. We almost got completely carried away with our new purchases and remembered our limited space just in time. We ventured over to the Jolly Farmer which is their restaurant and enjoyed an hour of broadband, complete with Skype to England before heading back to the McCloud’s house for lunch. We heated up some of the relish Catt had prepared a few days earlier and invited Heather to join us. She was suitable impressed and the recipe swapping ritual commenced. This was followed by the viewing of the second Jungle Book movie with their two small children. At the same time a staff member had decided that the lack of cleanliness of our vehicle was unacceptable and for the third time Magurudumu received a truly African bath.

Heather and Catt swapped a few more recipes and she told us about her lucrative home business of making jams, marmalades, pickles and a few other products. The house was a buzz of people cleaning and preparing things for the evening’s feast and getting small children ready for bed. It was clear that the daily life of the farm manager and his wife was a lot more hectic than ours. I was pleased and appreciative at the ease at which we had managed to overcome all our previous vehicle issues and I was ready to move on the next day.

Dinner was a grand affair complete with the introduction of the 5 minute chocolate cake Catt and I have come to appreciate every chance we got. For those who do not know it, it works like this: Take one large coffee mug and ad; 4 spoons flower, 4 spoons sugar, 2 spoons coco, 3 spoons milk, 3 spoons oil and one egg. Stir vigorously to mix all the ingredients well and pop into the Microwave for 2 minutes on high. Seriously! Try it! But be aware that once you have seen the success you will never be more than 5 minutes away from chocolate cake ever again.

We once again said our good byes to our newest friends with promises of future visits from both sides and retired to the comforts of the guest cottage with en suite bathroom. It had been great to spend the little time with another family of good people!


Day 69:
We left the farm before 8am, but at least 3 hours after Alastair and headed north. Our destination was the Kasanka National Park which we reached by lunch time. The park is famous for the location of a massive bat population, which was not our reason for visiting. Jonathan Taylor, the scientist from Potchefstroom had told us about a tree house/hide in the park where you are almost guaranteed to see the very elusive Sitatunga. We had seen Sitatunga once before from a boat in Botswana, but the prospect of seeing one again, and close up excited me greatly!

National Parks in Zambia are not cheap! At the Wasa Lodge we were informed of the rates: K108 800 for our camping and $10 each for park entry and $15 for the car (Blasted car fees!!!!) This amounted to about 15% more than what we used to pay in Botswana Parks, so not entirely ridiculous. Rhoda, the extremely well dressed and model like reception lady explained that the pontoon was out of action. This made more than half the park inaccessible, but we could still reach the hide at Fibwe without any issues. She recommended the Pontoon Campsite. When I enquired about the camp site by the hide she said that it was still to wet to be recommended to stay there, but that it was only a 15 minute drive from the pontoon site.

Satisfied with this information we headed towards our camp site with the plan of having lunch fairly urgently! The camp itself was in a beautiful setting next to open water with a “lounge”, shower and toilet. The “lounge” was a round thatched roof with sides three quarters the way around and concrete floor which obviously provided shelter from rain and sun. The shower was a bulkhead inside a reed enclosure. This bulkhead was used to hoist a bucket up on to use for showering. Set bucket could be requested from the camp manager and would be heated up before it arrived. The toilet was a long drop. Everything was neat, clean and in perfect working order. I loved it!

After a quick, yet well needed bite we left for the hide. The drive was indeed only 15 minutes. Once we had arrived we were met by that camp site manager, Emanuel who was clearly very excited to see us. We asked to see his camp site and like a proud father he gave us the tour. It seemed dry enough to us so we asked him to contact reception via radio to inform them of our change of plan. His biggest concern was that the shower had no sides. He had not finished it yet as the season was only about to start. I tried to explain that this shower was in the middle of a very thick clump of bushes on an island in a dried up wetland and we were the only people there. He was satisfied by this and asked what time we would like to take our shower. I secretly felt a little like Livingstone with his 300 porters and some slaves doing all the heavy lifting…

The afternoon was spent on the platform. It was at least 30m off the ground in a massive Marula tree overlooking the vast “dombwe” or floodplain far below. We were armed with cameras, extra zoom lenses, tripods and binoculars, but as soon as I saw the setup I was absolutely convinced that we were wasting our time. As with so many of our other possible plans in Zambia, it was simply too early in the season and there was simply too much water and too much bush to have successful viewing from there.

A couple of hours before sunset I started hearing something in the thick bush below us. I suspected people at first, but then birds, or perhaps a shy Bushbuck. With or without the binoculars I could not find any movement or sign of life so gave up after a thorough search of the bush and a lengthy scan of the wetland. Catt persevered and an hour later excitedly announced that she was seeing something. Deep in the bushy shadows below our perch you could see the long grass move and every once in a while we could hear a twig break and eventually, and only with the help of the binoculars we managed to see him. It was a massive, elusive and powerful male Sitatunga gracefully and almost silently moving around the undergrowth. I could not believe my eyes and even managed to take a bad photograph of one of his horns.

Just before sunset, but with happy feelings of great success we climbed down from our tree top throne and arrived back at the camp site to the welcome sight of a nice camp fire and the news of the shower water arriving imminently. The 20l bucket was hoisted into position and the steaming hot water provided a quick but enjoyable shower to us both. The rest of the evening was spent chatting excitedly about our sighting and how we were looking forward to sleeping in our tent again after 7 nights of luxury.

Day 70:
Flexibility is one of the main ingredients to a successful overland trip. We had decided only a day before to stay in the park for at least two. At the cost, and with the limited access, and thanks to our successful Sitatunga sighting we had decided to move on after day one. We got up at the crack of daw and cameras and coffee in hand ascended the ladder to the platform again. I did not take all the toys as I though it unlikely to: 1: Spot another Sitatunga and 2: Be able to photograph one successfully. I should have known better!

Within half an hour of arriving, just as I took the last slurp of my coffee I saw a movement in the long grass and spotted an adult female, not too far away and half in the open. This sparked a wave of excitement in me and I started the intensive search with the binoculars. I found one more, even closer and she ventured into the open for a few seconds. I snapped away with the camera wishing that I had my 1.4x converted with me to provide a bigger zoom. I handed over the binoculars, climbed down the ladder, sprinted back to the car and returned as swiftly with the converter in hand. Catt was manning the binoculars and although she managed to keep track of the female, she was very hard to spot and impossible to photograph. I disappointedly took over the watch and scanned the whole dombwe for signs of life. I briefly spotted another female about a kilometre away, but by the time I tried to explain to Catt where to look, she had gone. I was about to suggest that we call it a day and move on when Catt spotted a male. Then another… and another female and by the time we had scanned the area again we counted a total of 7 Sitatunga! There were 3 males and 4 females, completely oblivious to our existence. It was incredible!

A while later we had to move on. We briefly stopped at Rhoda’s reception desk at the Wasa Lodge, paid our dues, bought a paper map of Zambia and started driving on. While investigating the map we noticed a camp site sign on Lake Bengweulu. This had not been part of our travel plan before, but it seemed like the perfect place to stop over and hang out for the afternoon and the evening.

We found the Samfya Beach Hotel and Camp site without any hassle and it took no more than one brief look to make the decision to stay there! The buildings were primitive, they were busy building a new bar, but they did indeed offer camping and at a fraction of the cost of National Parks. We handed over K60 000 ($11) and parked Magurudumu on the beach and next to an olive tree. We packed out the chairs, the table and strung the hammocks. This set the scene of the rest of our day.

A few hours after lunch we were joined by Collins. He was part of an outreach program and insisted on chatting to us about nothing in particular. We learnt that he had a Masters in Algebra from the University of Botswana and that he had been to Texas and Australia on Varsity Rugby tours. He wished to one day work as a Mathematician in the UK while doing his doctorate. We also chatted about how safe and friendly Zambia was as a country, which we felt was a just observation and after giving us a few tips on roads to travel on our journey north, he left us.

Our biggest urgency for the rest of the day was to cut into one of the paw-paws we got from Heather and trying to figure out what to do with the mass of fruit we could not manage to eat that day.

Around sunset I got all the cameras out and started taking some photos. Everywhere you could point a camera another breathtaking scene was unfolding in front of the lens. The mixture of blues, purples and yellows reflecting off the vast lake in front of us disappeared into a grey mass as soon as the sun dropped behind the horizon, but I was still pleased with the results of images for the best part of the day.

Over dinner we were joined by the local village dog. Every African village seemed to have at least one and this one, although looking fairly hungry, wasn’t daring to get too close to our table. With a rush from somewhere in the darkness another guest chased it away, shouting some obscenities in the local language and the poor pup ran off looking horrified. We packed everything away and went to bed early. Still awake and reading books, the wind suddenly came up. It was strange in a way. It just came from no where, for no apparent reason and forced us to close most of the tent flaps. We eventually fell into a deep sleep, listening to the waves caused by the wind. Nothing of any other importance seemed to be happening in our entire world.

If I had to do it again:

For the first week I can honestly say that there was nothing I would have liked to do differently…

Mukambi was fantastic and comes highly recommended! They have a $10 per person camping rate and the lodge’s facilities are phenomenal! There is honestly nothing I would have done differently there.

I think that Lufupa Plains Camp warrants at least one night of camping, at similar rates.

It became very apparent that Zambia is a country best travelled from August to November. The dombwes will be dry then and the animals would concentrate around the more permanent water. Saying that, it’s not like we did not experience our fair share of wildlife!

We were happy to stay at Alastair and Heather’s house. If that offer was not there, Fringilla would be the place for sure!

Kasanka National Park is a little known paradise, but parks are expensive. If you have the money, and the time, it is also an absolute must! If you go there only to see Sitantunga, I doubt if you will be disappointed.

Samfya Beach Hotel, which is on T4A is a perfect place to stop over and a welcome beach break from the other scenery. Hopefully their beach bar will be open within a month and hopefully they will build camp site ablutions soon. We were using the bathroom in one of their unoccupied rooms, with the hottest shower water I have ever experienced!