The Wake up Call of Zambia

Victoria Falls did not disappoint.

We were expecting an experience tailored heavily to the rich tourist. Check!

We were expecting to be charged heavily for crossing borders for only one day. Check!

We were expecting the Falls to be impressive in their natural splendour. Check! Thankfully!

The last point made all the hassle worthwhile. The Falls are simply magnificent, not as high as Niagara which Wendy and myself visited several years back, but the breadth of the natural architecture just takes your breath away, as does the soaking you get when standing at the more central viewing points. We were chuckling at the name of the last viewing area on the meandering walk along the Zimbabwean side of the falls – “Dangerous Point” – that is until we got there. It would give your average ‘Elf and Safety geezer in the UK a heart attack. A bunch of slippery, moss- covered rocks with a magnificent unobstructed view along the whole Falls and no fencing or barrier of any kind to prevent a fall of about 100m to the bottom of the canyon. It is encouraging to see that a bunch of disparate people left to exercise common sense in the cause of self-preservation usually manage quite successfully, something that we in our Nanny state seem to have forgotten.

Our report on the Falls would not be complete without making mention of the Victoria Falls Hotel where we went for lunch. A masterpiece of British colonial splendour. As I tackled my first ever crocodile Caesar salad (a bit like tangy chicken) we looked out across the perfectly coiffured lawns to the famous bridge in the distance where tourists bungee jump, locals try to sell you overpriced junk and the cloud of water vapour from the Falls which looks like smoke hence the local name which means “the smoke that thunders”. It really was a perfect location. Andrew was imagining some upper class British chap over 100 years ago choosing the spot for his new hotel “I say! This is the best place for our hotel. Be a good chap and just clear away that bunch of natives. Now where is that G&T….damned mosquitoes….tally ho” It was massively out of touch with everything that is Britain today but it did make us smile and the food and service was fantastic.

View from our "Luncheon" table at VF Hotel

I can’t take this tale into Zambia without a final mention of our last day at Mazambala Lodge in Namibia. We went on a boat and game drive. With Eustace as guide for only me and Andrew it was a private tour of the area. We saw several Hippos and learned that they are the most aggressive of wild animals. They attack humans if they feel their space to be threatened and, according to Eustace, go off their food for a week after tasting human blood. Very sensitive creatures….I think not! Luckily the crocodiles were quite inactive as it is winter and it takes a while for their cold blooded anatomies to wake up.

In the battered old Toyota pick-up, Eustace tracked a herd of Elephants to the point where our paths crossed provoking a large female to place herself about 5m away from the vehicle, guarding her family she hooted at us quite angrily and swung her head from side to side while Eustace was murmuring at us not to make any sudden movements. Later that day both Andrew and I had “loose motions”…with hindsight, maybe it wasn’t to do with the malaria meds kicking in ;-)

On checking with the Lodge owner, a charming elderly gent who spends his winters in the US skiing in Aspen, he advised that Zimbabwe was the best side to view the Falls. For us this meant crossing from Namibia into Botswana via the Ngoma border point before heading to the town of Kasane. He also advised that the roads were considerably better using that route than the alternative to the North through Zambia. 

If you look at a map around Victoria Falls the conjunction of 4 countries, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe and Zambia, gives an idea of how it is possible to cross different borders on subsequent days. On the Monday we crossed into and returned from Zimbabwe leaving our bikes in Botswana. Tuesday saw us at the completely chaotic Kazangula Ferry to cross from Botswana into Zambia, this time with our bikes as we intended to make for Lusaka.

We had ridden past over 1km of queuing lorries, which can wait for a week before getting on the ferry as it only takes 2 at a time, to arrive at an area where there was a total free for all. We literally had no idea where to go or what to do. A young guy approached us shouting at us to give him our carnets. He carried no official documentation or identity. We ignored him initially but he then encouraged us to get on the ferry so we squeezed alongside the 2 lorries. The guys running the ferry seemed OK with this but they did want to be paid in local currency – the Kwacha. Of course we had none so this is how Dede, the fixer, got us as his clients. He gave us the money to pay the fare. On the other side Dede then took us on a wild tour around 5 different offices to get all our documentation in order. Some fees had to be paid in Kwacha which he gave us. Some had to be paid in US Dollars which we had. Once the process was complete, we tallied up the amount he had lent us and added about US$60 for his fee. At the time it felt quite expensive but now I think it was well worth it. I simply can’t imagine trying to get through that process in the middle of a mass of heaving humanity and vehicles without a fixer. With his help we were through in an hour. Without it…well who knows?

Dede the "Fixer" on the left and his buddy who stood guard over the bikes

We were then free to get on the road to Lusaka with the first stop being Livingstone where we stopped for lunch. Zambia’s population is around 17m over 8 times more than Namibia or Botswana. It is a much busier place! Livingstone was bouncing with tourists and locals. The traffic was heavy and it drove fast and close. This was a bit of a shock to our relaxed approach to riding. We suddenly had to up our game and the main T1 out of Livingstone was an education.

The speed limit is 100Kmph. We stuck at 90Kmph and were overtaken by nearly everything including at one point a 16 ton truck which thundered by belching smoke like a world war one destroyer making a lie of the 80Kmph sticker on the back. As it went by it was itself being overtaken by a sinister convoy of 5 unmarked modern 4WD’s with flashing blue lights and no number plates. By the way, the road is a normal 2 lane highway – what we would call a “B” road at home. Broken down vehicles littered the route with some drivers looking as though they were camped for days waiting for spares. In a 100km we rode by at least 4 patches of fire burned road and bush where a vehicle had combusted and no doubt destroyed itself, or perhaps been involved in a collision.

We stopped in a roadside “lodge” for the evening and learned that the Zambian version of a “lodge” is completely different to Namibia and Botswana. It was very basic with poor food and we were kept awake by the trucks which kept going all night.

I have decided to replace the bash plate on the CCM before continuing the journey. On learning that the new one wasn’t due in Lusaka until the following Monday I changed our plan. Not relishing the prospect of 4 days in a big city, we turned right on getting to the T2 heading for Siavonga – or “the Zambian Riviera” according to their tourist authority. The road cleared somewhat and we enjoyed some really pure motorcycling through lovely countryside, gently twisting and turning uphill and downhill finally arriving at Siavonga where we checked into a very nice, truly peaceful resort with astonishing views over the enormous man made fresh water lake Kariba. I think we will stay for a good few days before continuing.