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!
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