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 café 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.
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