Blog

November 6th – 9th, 2021

The 05 Road (and that other thing)

There is a problem of geography in Zambia for those on a tour like ours. The capital Lusaka lies sort of in the center of the southern lobe of this kidney shaped country. Two roads branch out from here. Stretching east to Malawi is the Great East Road, with the Lower Zambezi lying to the south of it and South Luangwa National Park further east and above the road. Heading off to the North from Lusaka is the Great North Road, going all the way to Tanzania. Kasanka National Park, the northern waterfalls, Bangwelu Wetlands and more lie off this road. Transiting between these arteries is difficult, and it makes stitching together an itinerary limited in options. There are a few roads allowing passage, none of them in the fast approaching wet season. 

Many that are trying to see the sights either break their ambitions into two trips, or drive to South Luangwa, and after visiting drive a whole day back to Lusaka, then a second whole day to Kasanka. This is boring tarmac driving with monotonous hours stuck behind large slow trucks, punctuated by overtaking events that require more bravery than anyone should have on such narrow roads. 

On the map the attractive alternative is the 05. The 05 road heads nearly arrow straight, neatly north from the Mfuwe gate of South Luangwa National Park, heading deep inland to only occasionally visited portions of the park. Occasionally visited because there isn’t much there, at least when the road is drivable and water for game is limited. After crossing the park one is presented with a river crossing where park staff sand bag in a ford each year. This is washed away in the rains and redone each year. Following the river you drive winding switchbacks up the Muchinga escarpment on a steep and rocky climb that threatens the undercarriage of your vehicle, and so narrow that in many places you could never pass should you meet a vehicle headed in the other direction.

The road does allow two way traffic, so the only guarantee that you will not find yourself in this predicament is that this road is not well trafficked and it will “probably” not happen. Jenny and Melissa chatted with Herman, the owner of Wildlife Camp, before we made the drive, and he offered some advice. “If you meet another vehicle on the escarpment climb, just get out and distract them, while the rest of your party pushes the their vehicle off the edge.” Half joking, or not? He offered some other excellent advice, and even provided a short page of notes on the drive (transcribed in the Nitty Gritty section).

So that was the plan, drive the 05 road and head to Kasanka National Park, saving a two day drive. I double checked the route on Basecamp (Garmin’s free mapping software) and Tracks4Africa and it said it was 11.5 hours. 11.5 hours?! Somehow I made the mistake of thinking this was a not totally ridiculous one day drive. I swear I read this somewhere. We rarely make the time T4A estimates, eating up extra time with photos, lunch and pee stops. I broke the news to my friends and Pete was concerned, having observed the unerring accuracy of T4A. Herman on the other hand said 8 to 8.5 hours, which seemed much more palatable. We hoped for this.

That in mind we got up very early, intent at being at the gate at opening time, 0600. First though the morning started with an amusing episode. Being a man of habit, and having been warned at the fierceness of the tsetse flies on this route by Herman, Pete made sure he got up early enough to have his morning constitutional, aka ‘morning time’, in the ablutions. After returning he recounted his tale.  When we went into the toilet stall he looked in the bowl and found something in there from the last user. This is not surprising, as properly flushing toilets in African camp sites are not particularly common. Not being one to fuss over such details he started his business of the morning.

When complete he started to rise and was assaulted from below. The object left from before was not a present from the last user, but in fact a frog. Seeing light and a chance at freedom the frog made multiple attempts to escape, each time caroming off Pete’s backside. Pete moved quickly, and in short order the frog attained liberty. Somewhat flustered by the event Pete came out and shared his experience and we all had a good laugh over it. Sometimes the adventures in Africa are small ones. Note that the healthy frog population in the ablutions at Wildlife Camp does seem to keep the rest of the insects more or less at bay.

That episode done we were off, Pete driving the initial stretch. We arrived at the gate at 0555 and showed our already paid park fee and were waived through. The road starts as wide graded gravel, but not far north of the big baobab tree we were traversing a two spoor track in good condition through mostly empty mopani scrub forest. Later this transitions to miombo woodland, and we were making good time all the while.

I’d been warned that this part was very monotonous and there was no game, but we found neither to be true. The forest didn’t change tremendously it’s true, but it did at times and each time a little different. Sometimes tall cathedral mopani trees flush with new leaves, sometimes scrub forest that had clearly had a number done on it by elephants, sometimes a tight tunnel of green trees.

For wildlife we saw ground hornbill (flying), elephant, warthog, impala, Lichtenstein’s hartebeest, Zebra, duiker, roan, a black bellied bustard, tortoise and a nice herd of Cookson’s wildebeest, which we had not seen earlier in the park. 

Part way through this long straight section we came to the four kilometers of black cotton soil that Herman had warned us about. Even with the thunderstorms we’d seen in the previous days it was dried as hard as concrete, so no problem for us. He had said that this is the portion of the road to worry about in the rains more than any other. If this is impassable then you don’t have to worry yourself over the river crossing or escarpment climb, you won’t get there.

There was also a very wide dry river bed crossing of deep sand, but the land cruiser loves the sand and sailed right across. On the far bank is where we saw a fair amount of game and birdlife.

In three hours we came to the Mupamadzi river crossing. The ford was sandbagged, though they didn’t look in the best of shape, having done service for the whole season. Not much water was running across them, maybe six inches deep or so. We switched drivers at this point, figuring that if anything goes sideways on the river crossing or on the escarpment climb it should be Jenny or I responsible. I dropped into low range 2nd gear and we bumped across, easily climbing out of a hole left by a washed away sand bag and over the ford. 

The exit is a steep climb up a sandy bank that has been reinforced with small logs laid across it, but several were missing. The cruiser’s back wheels dropped into the hole left by absent logs and wouldn’t budge from there. I backed out and gave it a try with the differentials locked but it made no difference.

I backed down into the river and the road crew (Jenny, Pete and Melissa) got to work. It is counterintuitive to park in the river, water rushing under the vehicle, but we were one solid footing and the road crew was motivated to work fast due to the swarming tsetses. 

A few moments later new logs had been laid and I was waived up, the cruiser marching up the river bank without complaint. We’d heard of another vehicle heading this way a week or so before and when they arrived at this river the water level was too high. They camped nearby and by the next morning the river had dropped and they passed without issue. 

About 10 minutes beyond the river crossing is the Chifungwe gate, where we checked out of the park. A shade under four hours and we were at the Mutinondo River Bridge. There is a defunct campsite here which I suppose you could bush camp at, but the flies would be a challenge. 

This bridge marks the beginning of the escarpment climb, 12 kilometers of rocky steep switchbacks. We were feeling pretty good having overcome the earlier hurdles of black cotton and the river crossing, but still we knew to proceed with caution. A few years ago I had chatted with a guy from Lusaka who swore that the 05 was no big thing, as long as you obeyed the critical rule of keeping it slow. He said first gear low range and you can tackle anything, just don’t rush. 

That in mind at the first sign of the rocky climb I dropped into low range first gear, and at the impossibly slow speed of first gear low range the cruiser climbed like a goat, without hesitation. Between pitches it would flatten out and I’d pick it up to second or third gear low range (on the 79 cruiser third gear low range is roughly equivalent to first gear high range), and then drop back down to first when the next steep pitch hove into view. 

In a few places here or there you could see where someone had chosen the wrong line and scraped their undercarriage on the rocks. These white scrapes on the rocks gave me early warning to chose another line. 

Some spots had previous evidence of road building having been done by others, piles of rocks dropped into holes. In other places there was evidence of wheel spin on rocky steps, but the rear diff lock took care of that and up we went without a hint of wheel spin. 

For me as the driver, in what seemed a very long time and also no time at all, we were at the Tunta Gate. To my surprise the GPS log says the escarpment climb was only an hour and five minutes. Tunta gate is a scout camp that also logs people in and out of the road. 

After that it is good dirt road all the way to the Great North Road, we had managed the 05 with no trouble at all. Part of me thinks, “What is all the fuss about?”, but I know better. This is what everyone says when all goes according the plan. I’ve read many a report of crossing Van Zyl’s Pass that ended, “Bah, no challenge at all, hardly more than a rough dirt road.” Even though there is the carcass of more than one vehicle, battered and stripped, at the base of the steepest part. 

Technically there are harder routes than the 05, longer and with steeper climbs with rockier pitches. What makes this road worth respecting is that it is not some 4×4 club’s technical route, but a working two way road narrow enough that in sections you cannot pass another vehicle. On top of this, that you are far from help should you have a problem with your vehicle, and that a mechanic would have to come from very far away. No flat bed to recover your vehicle can make it to you should you have mechanical failure.

The Bradt Guide to Zambia has an excellent tale of someone traveling the 05 in a modern vehicle, who’s onboard computer faulted and would not let them proceed. Instead of hiking back up to the scout camp the tourists hiked down into the park, cutting across the bush to save distance. They became disoriented, suffered dehydration and eventually succumb to heat exhaustion. They were rescued on the brink of death, having become separated. Obviously they made multiple mistakes, but I prefer to learn from others’ mistakes instead of my own when possible.

We stopped for lunch, and in six hours driving time we made the Great North Road. Feeling pretty great, not only getting to experience this remote route, and having rolled the dice on transiting on the brink of the rains and escaping unscathed, but also because it was only a bit after noon and we were going to get to Kasanka at a reasonable hour.

This was a huge relief to me. Having concocted this itinerary and committing the team to this ambitious route across Zambia’s highlights there were key points that we would have to do to make it all work, and these points were not a given. Crossing the Lower Zambezi was one, the Petauke road another self inflicted one, and now the 05. Check, check and check. The next hurdle coming up was Busanga Plains, which typically closes down in November when the roads become inaccessible. Hopefully this last portion of the route would work out and pay dividends, getting to camp at Busanga would be a rare treat that not many have been able to do.

Back to the task at hand, onto Kasanka. The Great North Road is not all that great actually. A narrow paved road, one lane in each direction, that is the main artery between Tanzania and land locked Zambia. Large amounts of cargo, particularly petroleum products, are trucked on this road, making it not the most relaxing to drive on. This particular section deteriorates into rocky dirt sections full of potholes “so big you could hide a giraffe in them.”, as one South African once said. 

These sections are only one or two hundred meters long, but all descends into chaos at each of these patches, with smaller cars weaving between the trucks, trying to overtake while they have a chance. But the trucks are also weaving around the worst of the road, and pretty soon everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road directly at each other. This is all at a very slow speed, but still it’s not relaxing.

The highlands are cooler than the valleys, even midday we are excited it is not so hot. On the side of the road villagers hold up their wares to sell to travelers, mostly truckers. Wild loquats, potatoes, and giant mushrooms that are currently in season. Due to the language barrier we bought five gigantic mushrooms for about .75 US cents each, instead of the three we planned on. Regardless, they looked fantastic and hopefully wouldn’t be poisonous. 

Two hours and forty five minutes of Great North Road, having been tackled by Jenny, and we arrived at the D235, the turn off for Kasanka. This became a fantastic tarmac road with almost no traffic or potholes, what luxury.

By 1600 we’d arrived at the Kasanka gate. A long day on the road, but we were feeling good considering what we’d attempted. Earlier on the Great North Road we’d passed the Mutinondo Wilderness, which was our fall back plan in we were behind schedule. Jenny and I plan to visit this on our way north in a few weeks, so we were not “missing it”, just delaying a bit.

The attraction at Kasanka National Park is the primarily the annual fruit bat migration, that occurs only for about two months, from roughly mid October to mid December. This is part of the reason why we and many others put up with the sweltering heat of October and November in Zambia, as you can’t see this spectacle of nature anywhere else or at any other time of year.

During these months, peaking sometime in November, up to an estimated eight to ten million (!) straw colored fruit bats decend on the area to feast on wild loquats, which abound in the region this time of year. During the day they roost in a tiny piece of forest, less than one square kilometer, in Kasanka National Park. Each evening they rise and disperse into the forest to eat loquats, and each morning they return to a very small specific piece of the Kasanka forest to roost for the day.

Around this small forest is wetlands and plains, and the Kasanka Trust, who manage the park, have built viewing platforms and hides for viewing the bats as they come and go each morning and evening. 

All bat activities are organized at the Wasa Lodge, located part way into the park on the way to our campsite. We stopped at the lodge at this relatively late hour and were able to organize morning and evening bat viewing, “The bat experience” they call it, the next day. Cost was $35 for each viewing, so $70 dollars total. Not per person, but per vehicle/guide, so we felt this was a real bargain.

We were instructed that for the morning bat viewing session we would be picked up at our campsite in a game viewing vehicle at 0400, meaning we would get up before 0330. It is essential to be in place on the viewing platform in darkness, so as to not disturb the bats. 

We arrived at our campsite, Pontoon No. 2 after 11 hours on the road, exhausted but feeling good. There was some trepidation about the very early start the next morning after such a big day today, with a moment or two spent thinking that if there is evening bat viewing then maybe we didn’t have to do the morning. But having come all this way we wanted to go for it. If we had more time I think we’d certainly have spent an extra day in a more leisurely fashion, but Pete and Melissa had to get back to work eventually, so the safari boot camp schedule would continue! 

Ablution report: Ablutions are shared with Pontoon site No. 3, No. 1 being for larger groups and having it’s own ablutions. There are two showers, two toilets and hot water boiled by the staff, not available on demand. There is also a washing up area for dishes or laundry. I suspect the camp staff would do either for you for a modest tip. Facilities were clean, total score…4/5? There were substantial insects, unavoidable camping here, and no lighting. Minor infractions for sure, but it’s important to not overthink these things.

The campsite was wonderful to arrive to. It is in a thick stand of trees, almost entirely shaded, with a thatched nsaka (round open sided shelter) to hide from the elements, a huge fire ring and ablutions close by. There is also a view of the wetlands framed by trees and reeds, and we could see the very rare and shy sitatunga antelope grazing as we arrived. Many travel far to Kasanka to see this animal, and here we were, able to see ten of them right from our campsite. 

The sitatunga is not dissimilar from a bush buck, a medium sized antelope with a dark brownish coat and light spotting. But the sitatunga is a wetlands specialist, and their feet in particular are very unusual, with a wide V-shaped hoof that allows them to walk more easily in the mud. When threatened they run into the water and hide, just their nostrils above water, so that prey cannot get to them. 

Camp staff provide fire wood, start a fire and ask you when you’d like a shower so that hot water can be available, all for the price of $20 pppn. As dusk fell we grilled chicken and huge mushroom steaks over the fire, with potatoes baked in foil in the coals. The evening was deliciously cool, and we weren’t hot for the first time in what felt like ages. 

As we ate our mushroom steaks, with a very strong earthy flavor, dinner conversation turned to what happens when you eat poisonous mushrooms. Wild mushroom hunting is a thing back in our area of California, and every year people die of poisoning from misidentified mushrooms. It turns out Pete and Melissa are quite knowledgeable on the exact mechanics of how the wrong mushroom will liquify your liver resulting in irreversible poisoning. Delightful.

As night fell the insects came out, but the campsite was carpeted with leaves from the forest and the ground dwelling spiders, the crickets and millipedes that came out didn’t bother me for some reason, even though I could see the reflection of the eyes of the spiders all over the campsite in the light of my headlamp. I’m not normally an insect fan, but here it seems we could coexist peacefully. With the early morning ahead we retired early.

Morning came very early. Getting up we were actually cold. Cold! After so many sweltering days in the valleys it was wonderful to be cold and I actually had to dig around to find my jacket. In the light of headlamps Melissa and I prepped our camera gear and we all made coffee and tea in to-go mugs to take with us to the viewing platforms.

The guide arrived in an open safari vehicle, accompanied by a driver and armed scout. There are no predators here, or very rarely, but we would be walking in the forest at night and there are hippos, if we surprised one he would take care of us.

We drove in darkness down narrow tracks, across wetlands and to the forest the bats live in. They brought us to what I think was the Fibwe hide. To get to this hide requires a 10 or 15 minute trek through wetlands and we were given rubber boots. The walk was really nice, in almost total darkness to be trekking through high grass and squishy mud towards the bats really heightened the senses. We arrived at the hide, a structure built of knotty wooden poles about ten meters high with a gnarled wooden ladder to take us up. I thought it looked great, but for others in our party it didn’t inspire quite as much confidence. 

The guide gave us a short safety briefing, including telling us not to worry about climbing up to the platform, assuring us that if anyone got hurt he had a first aid kit in the vehicle. I doubted that a first aid kit would help much if we fell from the ladder, but nice that they have something I suppose. 

We settled in on the wooden bench and the guide was rattling off details about the bats, but during this I could hear the subtle wing beats of millions of bats and I lost focus on his dialogue. Instead as our eyes became adjusted to the darkness, and the very early light of the darkest of twilight arrived, we could see bats. A lot of bats. 

So many, all around us, over us, beside us. Arriving in a huge cloud of barely audible wingbeats, but layered upon each other it sounds like a wind blowing through the forest but is instead the beats of millions of muffled wings. It was incredible.

The light rises little by little and wave upon wave upon wave of bats is arriving from behind us and over us to swirl in the forest ahead. They don’t just fly in, land and be done with it. There are so many it takes them some time to settle in, to not run into each other, to find a spot, so the whole process takes about an hour. 

The beautiful dawn colors form a back drop to the forest and we can see the sky full of bats, backlit in the dawn’s blue orange and pink light. Periodically there is some disturbance in the forest and some bats that have settled rise up and swirl around before roosting again, drawing out the whole event. The guide told us that sometimes the branches in the forest break under the weight of so many bats roosting upon the boughs at once, causing them to have to fly up and find a new spot. By the time light comes you can see that much of the forest has broken branches.

After an hour or so of the sky full of bats, from darkness to dawn, and the spectacle is over for the morning. A few bats settle here and there, but that is it. We are incredulous, it is such a unique event and totally remarkable. If you are anywhere near Zambia in November make the time to come and see the bats of Kasanka, it’s absolutely amazing.

We were all excited at having witnessed this wonderful and unique event and chatted about it on our short hike back to the vehicle as the sun was rising. They dropped us off back at camp and we continued to discuss over a mushroom and egg scramble, having our leisurely breakfast and more coffee after the early start.

Later on we took a drive around the rest of the park, but it was fairly hot during the day and all was quiet. I think to see the antelope and birds that Kasanka offers you need to stick with the tried and true early morning and late afternoon game viewing times. Still it was nice to drive through the park. We did see what is reportedly the largest tree in Zambia. It is a big tree, but not orders of magnitude bigger than some others.  

We were booked for another round of bats that evening, so after our drive we laid low for a bit and relaxed. Again the driver, scout and same guide came and retrieved us. This time we went to a different platform. This one is new, I did not get the name, and was built specially for a film crew that is on site filming a documentary while we are here.

This platform is near the BBC hide, but around the corner a little. It’s taller than Fibwe, and made of steel, looking fairly new. Arriving the guide noted that there was no bench to sit on up there, the film crew had removed it. This turned into a discussion between the guide and the scout on how to carry it up, but what would the scout do with his rifle if he was carrying a bench? Eventually this was resolved when Pete volunteered, convincing our reluctant guide that he could help, leaving the scout to his normal duties. We climbed up, though it was a little bit of a struggle for Jenny and Melissa, as the ladders steps were not spaced with shorter people in mind.  

The bats were still dormant now, so while we waited we chatted with the guide. He brought up covid, and that he is vaccinated and thinks everyone should be. This seems to be the standard line from guides, as they know the tourism business has been hit so hard. He also said though that after you’ve been certified as a guide the job market is quite good, as long as you are willing to move around. He said his job here will end in December and then it was off to another camp somewhere. 

While this was happening we had the great luck to see a Ross’s Turacau fly into the forest. It was a fair way out, but easily confirmed. I was developing an affinity for the turacaus, with their brilliant plumage. I only managed to get one lousy photo and didn’t get another chance.

Eventually it gets darker and the bats start to rise. We had been looking into the forest trying to find their roosts with binoculars and we couldn’t see them. How is it possible to hide so many bats in such a small forest out of view? I have no idea. Then, when they start to rise and fly in a vortex of wings we saw that we’d been looking at them all along. Just about every piece of dappled shadow was in fact a straw colored fruit bat. 

They don’t just rise and fly off, they sort of lift and and rise and churn to get organized, and eventually start to move off, mostly in a general quadrant. Errant bats sometimes fly the other way, but then return to join the swarm. 

We marveled at their remarkable navigation abilities. Of course they use a form of sonar for collision avoidance, but this is at a whole other level to be able to avoid so many other bats, flying in their seemingly erratic patterns, and yet never did we see any hint of collision. The ship I work on has a sophisticated radar system that can track other vessels, up to 100 at time, all with the closest distance and speed and time to closest point calculated, but it maxes out at 100 targets. In two dimensions! Yet a supposedly simple bat is performing many more calculations right in front of us, without the benefit of good eyesight. It is mind boggling. 

Finally dusk fell into darkness and the show was over again. The bats were all off feasting on loquats and we were left to descend the hide in darkness. The guide told us that sometimes people panic because of the height, having an easier time getting up than down, but other than the big steps we had no trouble. 

Back at camp we were again greeted to multiple sitatunga viewable through the trees as we recapped our experience. We all agreed that if you only could do one to try to do the early morning instead of the evening. The experience of starting in darkness and moving to light was more impressive we thought, even when accounting for the fact that in the evening we had already seen it once and sort of knew what to expect. I also think this would be affected by which platform you are at, in relation to the sun. Ideally I think you want the sun in front of you, to back light the bats for as long as possible. In our case in the evening the sun was off to our side, so the visual effect might have been diminished slightly? We asked about booking specific hides and they said they usually wait until they know how many groups are coming in each day and assign the hides based on size and who hasn’t been to a particular hide before. In our case the film crew was at the vaunted BBC hide, so I assume they got first choice. Regardless we were extremely happy with our experience, totally worth it. 

The next day it was time to push on again. Given more time I think another day here could be spent birding and or game viewing, though the game will not rival the headliner parks. But it is a nice landscape and it is also good to build slow days into the itinerary, we were moving at a bit of a sprint to squeeze it all in, always a bit of a risk should people get tired or some issue arise as frequently seems to happen in Africa.

To Kafue

Kafue National Park is the final stop on our safari with Pete and Melissa, but it is too far to make in one day. We set our sights on Fringilla Farm, a farm, campsite and restaurant about half way to our destination. 

The drive there was unremarkable, just a lot of hours on the Great North Road. We made a stop in Kabwe for fuel and the Shoprite supermarket, finding this one very well stocked, not hectic and remarkably convenient. I’d recommend it for others and we noted it for our way out of Lusaka in a week or two. We also had pretty decent Indian food at the restaurant here, though the service was very slow.

We arrived at Fringilla Farm to find quite an operation. Just off the road there is a carpark with a small shop selling goods from the farm and the restaurant. We checked in at reception and also found they also have a lot of chalets, used for conventions and meetings for groups coming up from Lusaka. 

To get to camp we found our way through the property, passing many little industries. A piggery, chickens, goats, a butcher shop, a coffee shop, souvenirs. The campsite is on a grassy lawn near the annex chalets, simpler than the ones up front. Electrical points are available with both South African and Zambian style plugs (square pin vs round pin), potable water and hot water showers. Camp itself is not the star attraction here, but the operation as a whole is very impressive.

As we settled in an Australian spec land cruiser 79 bakkie pulled up and what seemed to be the boss was checking in on us to see if we needed anything. We were settled, and this turned into a really nice chat with Andrew Woodly, the manager and son of the elderly owners.

He told us to hop in the back of his bakkie, he wanted to take us out to the vulture sanctuary he had started. Yet another project! He had been approached by a vulture conservation group looking to make several vulture sanctuaries for the endangered white backed vultures, a critical part of the ecosystem in wilderness areas. He agreed, and set aside some of his farm for this. We drove out to the site, not far from the camp, and the road was full of that other scavenger bird, the maribou stork. Also known as the undertaker bird, these particularly unsightly and large birds also scavenge and had appeared to dominate the white backed vultures, who were also present in nearby trees, but in less numbers.

Andrew’s team was in the process of building a hide for viewing, and in the mean time had been feeding the chicken offal from the slaughterhouse to the birds. The maribous numbered in the hundreds, but were mostly just wandering around as they would not be fed until tomorrow. It was an impressive scene, and Andrew was very keen on us sticking around for feeding the next morning, but to do so we’d miss our reservation in Kafue’s Busanga Plains, so it wouldn’t work this time around. 

We were having a great time chatting with Andrew and agreed to meet up again later in the restaurant, having decided to take a break from cooking, not least because a lot of the food they serve is sourced from the farm, and also because rain loomed.

Meeting up with Andrew, who ended up joining us for dinner, we had delicious big steaks. Pete went all in with the “grill sampler”, pork chops and wors and steak and more. 

Andrew told us all kinds of fascinating stories. How his family found its way to this farm, about the 20’ python they’d found eating a calf on the farm just last week (including photos), about flying his little Cessna airplane around Southern Africa, both for travel and to assist with game counts and all sorts of other adventures. It was so interesting to hear these stories. He also was keen to hear what we were up to and how we’d found ourselves traveling Zambia, and generously kept buying us rounds of beers.

Some friends of his joined us, one who’s parents were from Eritrea and had scattered south upon some conflict up that way. Again, totally fascinated to hear these stories. 

The next morning we had to make our excuses to make our way to Busanga, though I am keen on coming back. Andrew generously loaded us up with sausages and biltong, and we bought more on top of that, along with rusks, and meat pies from the shop.

We departed, laden down with more meat than we usually have, ready to hit the bush again. It was an unexpected and really enjoyable stop. At the advice of Andrew and his son we made our way to Kafue via Landless Corner and the M20, avoiding Lusaka traffic, even though this road would be slower. It turned out to be not that bad, and a lot better than the road leaving Busanaga, as we would soon learn.

The Nitty Gritty

Nov 6th, 2021 – Wildlife camp to Kasanka Pontoon No. 2 via The 05, 401 km, travel time was 11h 30m, including various stops for road building, photos, mushroom bargaining, pee stops, lunch, the arranging of bat viewing, etc.

I would recommend the 05 to anyone with a sturdy 4×4 and modest off road driving experience, as long as you consult with locals before departing on the condition of the road and more importantly have the wear withal to not go or turn around if road conditions require it, and not just blithely forge ahead. Of course you won’t be turning around on the escarpment, but perhaps at the river if it is too high, the ford in poor condition, or if the black cotton soil too soft. Best to have a plan B ready. Ours was to make the two day drive via Lusaka, and after a day on the GNR Pete and Melissa thanked me for not subjecting them to that.

Later on Melissa remarked that the most dangerous thing we do is drive. The danger of a trip like this is not disease, the wildlife, or risk of banditry (whether real or perceived). Yes, driving is indeed the risk and anyone who undertakes an overland trip should make sure they are very aware of this. We tell people this, but most don’t seem to really take it in. Certainly now our friends have. 

Kasanka Nov 7th, 2021 – Park fees, for non SADC nationals, were $10 pppd, though we were not charged for the departure day, but we were out of the gate very early. Camping was $20pppn, a deal considering what you get. Sitatunga viewing, good ablutions, firewood provided, attentive staff. 

Pontoon is the closest campsite to the bats, but you can camp elsewhere in the park. There was only one other group here when we arrived, so I think you could probably rock up without reservations and the worst you’d have to deal with is an even earlier wake up to see morning bats, as the other campsites are further away. That said we found Pontoon very nice and worth booking ahead. Also we had booked this site for 2020 and had to cancel due to covid. The Kasanka Trust graciously just gave us the same dates for 2021 at no charge, and for that I am grateful.

Photography was a challenge. I used a 16-35 f/2.8, 24-105mm f/4 lens and a 100-400 f/5.6 telephoto. Not surprisingly I had the best luck with the faster lenses, though the wide zoom was too wide for the most part. I shot hand held, since I needed a fast shutter speed to freeze the bats anyway, and at very high ISOs. The best shots turned out to be before sunrise, but shooting towards the rising sun. We were fortunate that our viewing platform allowed this angle otherwise I don’t think there would have been enough light. I did get what I feel are some good shots though.

Nov 8th, Fringilla Farm – 466km from Kasanka to Fringilla, 11h and 8m, though for the life of me I can’t remember why it took this long. Though traffic on the GNR was substantial, lots of waiting behind trucks. And I guess there was that very long lunch as we waited on the food, so drive time is significantly less than quoted. 

Camping was inexpensive, $7 or $8 USD pppn. There are not numbered sites, just find a place on the lawn. Andrew complained at how expensive camping had become and apparently is putting his money where his mouth is. I don’t think reservations are required here, but it would be courteous to maybe call or email a day ahead or the day of arrival. The restaurant is large and has a nice menu at reasonable prices. It was well frequented by locals when we were there.