Farewell Zambia

It is a source of permanent wonder to me that there is not more road kill in Zambia.

The roads are crowded with unrestrained livestock. Cars, usually Toyota Hilux, race along at speeds up to 140Kmph completely ignoring the speed limits but more significantly relying totally on the organic obstacles, animals and people, to stay out of their way. By contrast we trickle along at 90Kmph and regularly have to take avoiding action, mostly just rolling the throttle off but occasionally braking and/or swerving – one particular meter long lizard near Siavonga owes its continued existence to a couple of semi panicky swerves. n the 1500Km we have ridden in Zambia we have seen only one dead impala. Amazing when you consider how many times we would have had bloody collisions if we had taken the same approach as the car and lorry drivers. I guess the old adage of motorcycles being invisible applies here in Zambia as in the UK except the primary problem is with cows, goats, pigs, donkeys, dogs, baboons and warthogs.

The roads, however, are littered with corpses of another type – lorries! Broken down with internals left scattered around them waiting for spares to arrive. Crashed on their side, on their roofs, burnt out. Honestly a decent diesel mechanic could make a fortune out here, or rather would if there was any concept of carrying out preventative maintenance.

We carefully pick our way through all this being very observant, always under the speed limits and only removing our hands from the bars to wave at the younger kids who are not yet too cool to wave excitedly at the foreigners on their big bikes.

Bearing this in mind I was astonished to be done for speeding when I was at least 10Kmph below the national speed limit. We were riding from Siavonga, where we had spent a very relaxing 5 days, North to Lusaka with about 20 Km to go and just as we were leaving one of the many shabby settlements that line the road. I had just passed a crawling lorry and was edging over to the left to let a pushy 4WD go by (it had already squeezed by Andrew) when I saw a mad woman running into the middle of the road frantically waving her hands. “Great” I thought…. “It’s usually a piece of flighty livestock so this is new…where can I pass her? Oh, hang on…she’s wearing white gloves…like a …..bloody hell! A traffic cop!!” These thoughts only take a few seconds and as I pull over I am honestly puzzled why we have been stopped. I was doing about 90Kmph and the speed limit is 100Kmph. Well…no…according to the young highway patrol lady who was carelessly waving a radar gun in the general direction of the traffic, “the speed limit on this section is 80.”

“Really? Where are the signs?” says I.

“They are there. You have not seen them because you are not paying attention” says the licensed thief….err…I mean the honourable police person.

I eventually manage to negotiate the fine down from 2,000 Kwatcha (about 1 month’s salary here in Zambia) to 700Kwatcha (USD$85). She could barely restrain her smile and I understood why on speaking to some locals later who say the usual amount is 100Kwatcha. Justice Zambian style! 

I have to say there have been many things which have irritated and disappointed about Zambia. In addition to the roads and traffic, we have stayed in some places which are grubby and worn, where the staff have no interest in doing a good job and which are ridiculously expensive. Food has mostly been very poor. Mind you both Andrew and I could do with losing some weight so that’s probably no bad thing!

On the other hand we have been lucky enough to enjoy some fantastic hospitality. We met Steve Armitage who was collecting his BMW F800GS from Wilson Off Road Services. He currently lives in Lusaka with his girlfriend, Jane, and he invited us round to their place for an evening meal. He even came to pick us up from our Campsite (Eureka – vastly over rated) so that we did not have to get a taxi both ways. It was a lovely evening and we were treated to traditional Zambian food and friendly charming company including Priscilla and Gertrude. They explained the number of jobs they currently hold down and teaching qualifications being sought. Very busy, bright hard working ladies. If you are reading this Steve, thanks again to you and Jane for a great evening!

So, with new tyres and an oil change for the BMW and a new bash plate as well as an oil change, clean air filter and new spark plug for the CCM, we headed out of Lusaka towards Chipata – just short of 600KM down the T4. A quick word of thanks here to the indefatigable Ray and Julie at Wilson Off Road for their help and support in getting work done on the bikes and dealing with the importation of the bits from the UK. If you are ever near Lusaka you should drop in to say hello…after all Charlie and Euan did!

It turned out that the T4, despite being marked on our maps as tarmac was about 25% dirt the reason being a major, European funded, upgrade programme. The road builders put in a hard packed mud track in parallel to the original tarmac which they are upgrading. On leaving Lusaka we had entertained thoughts about doing the distance in one day but quickly revised this to a 2 day schedule.

The first day we breezed by a fuel station just 50Km outside Lusaka with me assuming that there would  be regular fuel stations along this major arterial road. Wrong! We stopped for pee and planning session and with the aid of the GPS we figured out that the CCM would probably make it to the next station with half a litre in the tank but the BMW would be about half a litre short. Fortunately the black market came to our rescue. Trundling through yet another shabby but lively town, some blokes shouted at me making what could have been fuel pump gestures. Our Zambian entrepreneurs had figured out that some drivers like us would be caught out and supplied us with 5 litres each, out of a vegetable oil container, at a 75% premium on pump price. Fair play to them! 

Day 2 saw us glad to leave yet another shoddy and expensive hole where I got very little sleep due to the loud 80’s music playing until the early hours and lorries running through the night. We battered through a gusting, strong side wind and patches of dense smoke from burning scrub. Bouncing and pitching along the original lumpy tarmac didn’t last long as we ended up on gravel after about 25km. In addition to smoke from the fires we now had to deal with great clouds of dust from lorries and coaches heading the other way which completely blinded us for the 10 seconds or so it took the fierce wind to blow it away. The surface was mostly reasonably smooth and predictable so I increased our speed to around 60Kmph between “blind” patches. Mistake!

With no warning the surface disappeared under about 1 foot of the dreaded sand. The CCM started bucking around but held on long enough for me to eventually realise, as the rider, I had a responsibility to do something! I opened the throttle and flip flapped my way towards an oncoming 4X4. The driver did his best to miss me and succeeded! Meanwhile, Andrew on the Red Peril didn’t stay upright for long, his front wheel just tracked away quickly and gave him no opportunity to do anything other than pitch off to his left. Even before I managed to get things under control I was pretty sure he would have fallen so I was quite anxious to turn around. With an unexpected degree of concern the driver of the 4x4 had stopped and was already trying to help Andrew. I was very relieved to see him picking himself up so the Good Samaritan helped me lift the Beemer out of its sand shroud. 

Understandably Andrew was shaken and bruised but bravely got back on and continued the journey, his left hand front indicator hanging by its cables but with no other damage.

The Protea Hotel was the first sign of civilisation just as we arrived in Chipata. After the previous evening and dramas on the road I couldn’t resist the idea of some nice surroundings, good service and properly prepared food, all of which we got. Yippee! Replete and relaxed (as well as cleaned up after rolling around in the sand) we reflected on our plan. The intention had been to get across the border into Malawi but after speaking to Zachariah, the waiter, we decided to give South Luangwa game park a visit. We turned north heading for Mufwe, running before the strong Southerly which had plagued us all day in the form of a side wind. Now it blew us along, barely open throttles enough to keep up a steady 85Kmph, the wind noise reduced to virtually nothing. It was a restful end to the day which saw us booking into Croc River Camp.

The Game Drive starting at 6am the next day was initially quite disappointing in comparison to Mazambala lodge there being few animals other than the normal impala, baboons and zebra - funny how your benchmarks change so quickly! Abraham, our guide, rescued the day by finding a pack of hyenas feeding on a dead hippo and then the highlight of the day. A beautiful, intelligent leopard who it turns out is known by the guides as Alice. She calmly surveyed the gathering of vehicles getting between her and her prey so she loped off up a dry gulley to get away from the many and massive telephoto lenses. About an hour later we were no more than 10m away watching her choking the final signs of life out of a poor impala before she dragged it into a bush to eat. This is Africa!

Alice the Leopard  - a kill despite the atention

Malawi next. They describe themselves as the “Warm Heart of Africa”. I hope it is true.