Blog

November 12th – 16th, 2021

To McBride’s

Heading down the D181 out of Mumbwa, towards the McBride’s, we stopped for lunch in an old quarry, which make for great impromptu campsites and lunch breaks. From there we drove the rest of the way on a dirt road of variable and somewhat diminishing quality, through nice countryside, with the ever present charcoal industry still at work. There is no park gate at this northwest entry of the park, instead the lodges within this area are responsible for adding the park fees to your bill. 

Somewhere along the way there is a small sign for McBride’s, indicating a way contrary to T4A’s advice, but we figured the sign was there for a reason and took its advice. A small graded track wound its way through miombo woodland, and in the last few kilometers before camp we started to see wildlife, including a healthy herd of tsessebe, a type of hartebeest.

Arriving at McBride’s we were greeted by none other than Chris McBride, and shortly after, his wife Charlotte. Immediately we were ushered into the lounge area and encouraged to have a tea or coffee. 

The lodge dining area is under a thatched roof with mostly open sides. Slightly tattered sofas and lounge chairs make up one area, with piles of weathered and well thumbed books all about. Bird guides, guide to Southern African Mammals, treatise on wildlife capture techniques, photo books of Zimbabwe and Zambia and Botswana and more, a massive leather bound university print edition of mammals, with beautiful plate drawings, all stacked about. It was impressive. Many safari camps are too “Africa chic,” for lack of a better term, and here we were in what just looked like how Chris and Charlotte might live if we weren’t here at all.

The immediate impression upon arrival at McBride’s Camp is that this unpretentious safari camp is for people, guests and owners alike, that are truly here to be in the bush. Our tea hardly in hand, Chris immediately started pointing out interesting things. Naming off birds, he pointed out the flock of Egyptian geese on the riverbank.

From the dining area a few steps down is an open compacted dirt floor, swept meticulously clean, leading to a fire pit surrounded by chairs with a view of the Kafue river. 

Conspicuously present in this clean floor was a large heap of elephant dung. I’m not an expert, but I’d say it was a few days old, still with a nice brown color but lacking the earthy odor of brand new droppings. Just as I was taking this in, wondering why this pile of dung might be here in everyone’s way, Chris started pointing out the features of this particular deposit. It was broken apart somewhat, and you could see these round balls in there, about the size of a racket ball.

“Palm nut. Do you see? Palm nut!” Chris said. He went on, “Jasper loves palm nuts. You see when an elephant eats the palm nut, they only digest the outer coating, leaving the nut behind. But when it passes through the elephants digestive system, it can germinate in a year, instead of the normal five years. Do you see?” 

We saw. This pile of dung was left as an example of the ecosystem at work, and Chris and Charlotte find this interesting enough to make sure the staff do not clean it up, preserving it, at least for a while, for our education. I think this was just great. I am going to really like this place. 

Chris’s weathered face went on to explain that the aforementioned Jasper was an elephant that frequented camp, though he wasn’t about just now. “A veeerry friendly elephant. Just a fantastic elephant Jasper is. We see him all the time, wonderful fellow.” Charlotte went on to explain that this process of palm nut eating and dropping had given them Jethro, the name of the palm tree dangling its fronds towards the fire ring. They knew this as they saw it deposited not long after they started the camp, over 20 years ago, and have watched Jethro mature over the years. What a great introduction to McBride’s, both camp and the people. 

We went off to make camp. Camp is a couple hundred meters away from the lodge, tucked into trees and well shaded. From the campsite you can walk across the dirt road and over to a shelter with a view of the river.

The campsite itself has a large common area with tap, dishwashing station, thatched enclosure with a table and a few plastic chairs in various states of repair. There is a fire pit, and reed and thatch open air toilet and showers. There is a donkey boiler for hot water that the staff light each day and a fire and firewood are provided. We are the only campers and were encouraged to set up right in the common area. 

Chris told us that they have very clean water because, “We get American guests. You see, they are very hygienic and thus have no defenses against anything whatsoever, so we have a very effective four stage filter.” It is unclear if this clean water was piped out to the campsite, but I was amused at the explanation none the less.

Originally we had budgeted just two nights here, but we all discussed and agreed we’d like to extend another day if we could. Pete and Melissa had wisely padded their schedule at the end a bit, not knowing what the covid testing requirements for travel would be, as they change so frequently, or what the PCR testing turnaround times would be in Lusaka.

We consulted with Charlotte, who knew about these things, and learned it would be no issue to stay another day and still have ample time for PCR testing in Lusaka. This took a bit of pressure out our schedule here. That done we talked to Charlotte and organized a boat trip the following evening, and a walking safari the next day. 

After our dashing around Zambia and long days in the car, the last few days being particularly full, nobody was sad to have a day to more or less decompress, followed by an easy afternoon boat cruise. We took advantage and had a lazy morning with a proper breakfast and spent the rest of the day birding in camp (black colored barbets, various sunbirds and a stunning duet by some tropical bou bous (they sounded like they were playing the banjo), doing a little laundry and generally taking it easy.

Even in camp we were able to spot the rare blue duiker, two bushbucks that seemed to hang around the periphery of camp, as well as vervet monkeys and puku, not to mention the large pod of hippos that had installed itself in front of the lodge, along with a lot of water birds. At one point all the pukus behind camp were alert about something though we couldn’t figure out what. Later Charlotte told us she had watched the same thing, and the next day the other guests and guide spotted some lions on their morning game drive.

Boat Cruise on the River

For the cruise, the boat is a nice two decked aluminum catamaran. We putted gently down the river, around hippos that did not seem to like the boat. The guide pointed out that we had to drive fairly close to them as the hippos were also occupying the deep water, and it was too shallow to pass further abreast. 

Downstream of the hippos we saw many crocodile, some puku and lots and lots of birds. Mostly the usual waterbirds, pied kingfisher and Egyptian geese, open billed storks and yellow egrets (some kind of egret?). Notably though we did see the relatively uncommon African Finfoot, and really special, Pete spotted my white whale, a malachite kingfisher. It was a remarkable spot. Those little guys are small but so colorful. I just like the big headed poise of a kingfisher. The guide did a skillful job of using the current to very slowly and silently get us pretty close before he finally took his leave.

All very civilized, boat cruising and kingfisher spotting with tea in hand. Chris’s lean frame stood on the shoreline as we came in, and as soon as we tied up he interrogated both us and the guide, keen to hear what we’d seen. He was delighted that we’d seen the finfoot and the malachite but disappointed to hear that we had not seen lion, which they’d seen the day before on the boat cruise. There must have been a thousand boat cruises taken from McBride’s, and it was remarkable to see that here Chris was, still keen to get the details of this particular one. 

Charlotte was off with the other guests at their bush camp across the river, Chris left behind to keep an eye on us I suppose. Chris suggested we take a short walking safari the next morning, but we’d have to not stray too far as they had seen a female elephant with a brand new baby on the game drive the day before. 

“She’s a wonderful elephant, very nice indeed. But with her young one about, she’ll definitely kill you, there is no question of that! A really nice elephant though.” With this caution in mind we agreed that keeping it short was a good idea.

That night in camp we had sautéed greens with rice and beans, using some sort of red bean we’d bought in the local market. The food in the street side stands is incredibly cheap, and we were getting better at stocking from it. In particular butternut squash, ubiquitous this time of year in Zambia, were a tiny fraction of the price in a supermarket.

It seemed we could get tomatoes, onions, cabbage, butternut and beans in nearly any village. On top of this we often saw dried fish (which we did not partake of), carrots, some sort of hardy leafy green similar to chard, delicious green beans, oranges and an unlimited supply of loquats, which we tried but did not find very enticing. The prices for these goods is fixed, and bargaining is not necessary. It’s all very inexpensive. I also don’t think that we were getting a mzungu price, as occasionally people would have a small sign for pricing, or if they didn’t have change, they would make up the difference with additional produce for us.

Pete was in charge of beans, seasoned with taco mix we’d brought from home and chilies from the market. Along with a couple frosty beers, the whole meal was delicious. 

We met Chris the next morning for our walk and started out with what we learned was always the very first step at McBride’s, “Help yourselves to a cup of tea.” I’m normally a coffee man, but tea seemed more proper in this setting, so tea it was. Tea in hand Chris started off right there, just a few meters from the drinks station. “See there? That is the Lone Ranger’s bedroom,” going on to explain that the Lone Ranger was one of three hippos that over the years has slept by the lodge, having been outcast from the local pod. They used the lodge to hide from aggressive dominant males. He has moved on for now, to where they do not know.

Moving just a few more meters along, tea still in hand, Chris went on about plants, pointing out strangler figs and wild spider orchids and which bean pods that elephants find tasty. He showed us the trees that are knocked down by elephant, but don’t die due to the heavy rainfall in the area. They just start growing anew in their new orientation. 

His love for all the things big and small came through so strongly it was really hard not to be impressed by this old salt of the bush. It took us over a half hour just to make the 30 meters from the tea station to the parking area, where Chris again reminded us of the danger of the mother elephant. 

With his old .416 Rigby rifle present, which he noted not only can kill but has the stopping power to arrest a charging animal, we proceeded. He pointed out the tree line, how it shows you how the drainage works in the area. Then he showed us two sausage trees that were planted by hippos, as they love to eat the sausage fruits, resulting in them depositing the seeds in their dung.

Crossing a path we arrived at the McBride’s Camp sign, nailed to an old dead tree, and were instructed to hang the mugs from our completed tea on the tree for later retrieval. 

Moving along he showed us the candelabra euphorbia, how it only grows on old termite mounds. This is because long grasses can’t grow in the termite mound’s soil, and thus when brush fires burn through, the euphorbia is safe from fire. There isn’t enough fuel around to let the fire get to it. All the other trees, he said, are fire resistant, brush fires being very common here. Sometimes they’re started by lightning, sometimes by poachers, sometimes by those wanting to stimulate new grass growth for grazing. It has been like this for generations. He reiterated that fire isn’t seen as the destructive force it’s seen as in Europe or America, that the bush can handle fire, and it can be a good thing.

Not far from here we noted the fresh tracks of elephant and identified a pair of very small elephant tracks beside it. With that Chris had us beat a retreat, mindful of the danger of a mother protecting her new born calf. Instead we finished the ‘walk’ in one of their old land rovers, with a coffee can of burning elephant dung hanging from the back for tsetses. We managed to see some antelope, hippo, birds, but particularly good was bush pig, which we had not seen before.

Back at camp one of the staff brought out a cardboard box to show Chris. “Look, we found them by the kitchens.” Peering inside we saw two tiny spotted gennets. Gennets look something like the cross between a cat and a mongoose, spotted gray and black, sleek, with long striped tales.

These little guys were very young and did not look particularly well. Chris suggested that we try to look after them until Charlotte got back from the bush camp, because, “She will know what to do.“

Theoretically Charlotte would be back in an hour or so, and for that time, which stretched to over two hours, we cared for two very young gennets. Our visit to McBride’s was certainly turning into an unconventional safari visit, but one we were really appreciating. 

One was looking particularly fragile, being unresponsive and having a slow and irregular respiration rate. We slowly tried to give them drops of milk, just a little bit at a time. The other one perked up in a half hour or so and started crying, presumably for mother, but she never came.

Baby gennets should not come down out of trees on their own, as these did, and mom should not be gone that long, so the staff and Chris theorized that she was gone, having come to some unfortunate fate. 

As we, mostly Jenny, nursed these little guys Chris sat on the old sofa and told us stories of the bush. Eventually he had to leave to take care of something, instructing us that we must stay here and care for the gennets until Charlotte’s return. Jenny and Melissa nursed gennets, and Pete and I started reading Lion Tide, Chris’s book about his research of lions behavior at night in Savuti, Botswana.

The book told that Chris used to be a university professor in Zimbabwe teaching Shakespeare and literature. Sometime along he became fascinated with what at that time was not possible to study in South Africa, ecology. Chris’s interest was wildlife and lions in particular. A particular American professor, Archie Mossman, had a unique perspective that Chris felt he must study under, and so off he went to Humboldt State University in California. He was delighted to learn that we knew about Humboldt State and had even worked with some scientists from there. 

The book goes on to detail his research in Savuti, and the part we managed to read that morning had a bit of the taste of Cry of the Kalahari to it, when science was more of an extreme sport than it is today. I plan to order a copy to finish when we are home.

Our reading was interrupted by the other McBride, Charlotte, returning from the bush camp. Chris was right, she immediately knew what to do with the gennets, prescribing a mixture with more nutrition than just milk. She was right, and after a while they perked up a bit, even the one that earlier had seemed close to death. 

What will happen with these gennets I do not know. We are very aware that helping wild animals in a national park has an ethical aspect to consider. When two small animals make their way to just outside the kitchen at the lodge, what can you do, just walk over them? Chris and Charlotte will no doubt know the correct thing to do from here. It had turned into such an unusual day.

We had dinner in the lodge that night. Before dinner we had drinks around the fire with Charlotte, Chris and the other guests. Chris and Charlotte’s rapport with each other is also hilarious, partially no doubt well rehearsed but also genuine at the same time. She calls him “Chrissy,” and he turns and whispers to you, “She never gets my name right, it’s Lord Christopher don’t you know.” Mind you, he jumps to when Charlotte commands. I have commented a lot on Chris because that is who we spent time with, but Charlotte is a power in her own right, having grown up in the bush and been right with Chris on all of his research, driving the jeep, slaughtering impala, keeping the kids, and Chris alive in the bush all at the same time. 

Chris frequently noted Charlotte’s strength was only equaled by that of Queen Elizabeth and Margaret Thatcher. We heard stories of being charged by buffalo, of living in the bush and other adventures. But what Chris mostly wanted to talk about was right here, the animals and environment around McBride’s camp. Their love for and understanding of the animals and environment right here was clear and came through at almost every moment. 

Next time I would like to spend more time with Charlotte, perhaps on our next visit. We watched her sling her own rifle, heading off to the bush camp with the other guests, and thought she must have some wonderful stories to tell.

We departed the next morning, really feeling that though there is certainly untamed wilderness and wildlife here, the McBride’s themselves are the attraction, and how lucky we were to have been able to spend some time with them.

To Lusaka

The drive to Lusaka is unremarkable. Back out the same bumpy dirt road, through Mumbwa and then onto the M9. This thoroughfare is in relatively good condition, but traffic thickens as you close in on Lusaka. I’d been warning Pete and Melissa about Lusaka traffic, and sure enough west Lusaka was a scene. 

We didn’t get stuck in gridlock, but west Lusaka is quite a bit less organized than the further spaced out eastern suburbs of town that we’d been to before. Weaving in and out of narrow gaps between other vehicles, around pedestrians hoping I didn’t kill anyone, we made it to the center roundabout of the city, and after that it was pretty smooth sailing.

Victoria Hospital, just north of the East Park Mall, has PCR testing with no appointment necessary. Cost was 1200 kw, $70 USD, results available the next day. Someone at the hospital advised Pete and Melissa not to get tested today, to wait until the next morning, as one of his friends had been turned away because his test was too old. He assured them that results were next day and they’d get their results the morning of their flight. 

Tests delayed, we made our way to Pioneer Camp just outside the eastern edge of Lusaka. There have been important road improvements since we were last here in 2018. The Great East Road, that leads to Pioneer, now has several overpasses over large roundabouts. What took us hours last time only took about 25 minutes this time around, a huge thank you to whatever civil planner made that project go through.

Pioneer camp isn’t the most conveniently located camp, there are others in town that we have not been to. But it is right near the airport, good for Pete and Melissa, and it ticks all the checkmarks for a good place for us to stay and prepare for the next leg of our journey. 

It has all the requirements, a large campsite with power and potable water available, a pool to cool off after midday chores, a restaurant for when we don’t feel like cooking, and clean ablutions. (4/5, totally functional and clean, just not inspiring). 

Arriving at Pioneer, how far we’d come! And we kept our “clients,” our friends, in one piece the whole time. We were sad to finish this leg of our trip. This trip had been planned pre-covid and delayed, so it was really great to realize it. And great that it all seemed to work and nobody wanted to kill each other by the end. 

I had some idea of what to expect on this portion of the trip, and I felt that the new and unique experiences came very fast and often, I am still processing them. Each stop fulfilled a different type of bush experience, and importantly, the journey was a critical part of the experience as well. I have always struggled to explain this aspect of traveling like this, and now Pete and Melissa truly understand. The drive and the logistics and other challenges are as important as the animals we saw. 

The next few days we had a list of chores to accomplish before Jenny and I would be ready to continue our trip north. We made our way across Lusaka several times to accomplish the following:

Went to Mudpackers, to my knowledge the only 4×4 store in Lusaka. Here we were able to refill our cooking gas bottles. Lusaka and surrounds is the last easy place to do this before going north, where a different thread is the standard. A 3kg bottle lasts us about four weeks, giving us an eight week allowance, enough to get us to Arusha where we know for certain we can refill.

Also at Mudpackers we bought a high-lift jack baseplate, as our crappy piece of wood had broken in the Lower Zambezi. This would help with keeping the foot of the jack from wanting to slip out when it was loaded. This was not the red plastic one I’d hoped for, but a metal one that a local shop fabricates for Mudpackers. 1100 kw.

Mudpackers is right next to a cafe, the Zambean Coffee Company. There were some well to do locals here, and it had the feel of an expat ladies lunch spot, which we witnessed quite a bit of. Also they have excellent salads. A fresh green salad is hard to come by, and we were very satisfied by ours. We found this after Pete and Melissa had departed. Sorry! (We took them to a much less inspiring place).

We got the tires rotated and alignment done. Technically our tires, Cooper Discoverer ST Maxx, were still under warranty, but to maintain the warranty you have to balance, rotate and align every 8,000 km at a Cooper authorized tire center. Whether one of these existed in Lusaka is up for debate, and after reading the very long list of exclusions on the warranty, I wasn’t even clear what was covered even if we did complete our end of the bargain. On top of this, there are no Cooper authorized tire centers further north, so we would definitely not be able to keep the warranty. That figured out we got the rotation and alignment done at the first tire shop we found. It was cheap (190 kw), but after a few days we found that the alignment was still off.

Note that we did not rotate our tires on our last E. Africa trip, and basically we ruined a set of tires. We developed a slight wobble at certain speeds, and I thought for sure it was balancing. The shop we went to at the time pointed out that it wasn’t, that our tires were “hobbled,” with ramps warn into the corner tread blocks. “Have you been driving on gravel roads a lot while loaded?” Uh, yes. “Did you rotate your tires?” Uh, no. This results in that hobbling, thus the interest in doing it this time, warranty or no.

At the recommendation of Charlotte McBride we provisioned at Melisa Supermarket in Kabulonga. This is a little bit higher end supermarket than Shoprite with more specialty goods. On the way out of town we went to their other location, north of the Great East Road, and it was not as well stocked, though we did get a massive bunch of basil. What a treat.

There were a few odds and ends for us to do to the cruiser in camp. Team Pete and Melissa don’t do well just lounging around the pool, and though I tried to release them from duties, they were super helpful in working on the car. We repaired a gas strut mount whose pop rivets had failed, cleaned the telescoping ladder, graphite lubed dusty locks and generally cleaned and tidied the whole vehicle and got a car wash (only 50 kw!), along with other odds and ends.

When planning this trip a couple years ago, I wanted to get a copy of the “Guide to Little Known Waterfalls of Zambia;” there are two volumes. These two books are not easy to find, and eventually I was put in contact with the author, to order them directly. Ilse Mwanza and I struck up an interesting correspondence, discussing politics and Zambia travel and waterfalls. 

I had meant to email Ilse and let her know that we were finally here and I was putting her advice to use, but in the hectic run up to our departure, and the ensuing whirlwind tour of Zambia with Pete and Melissa, I had forgotten. I emailed her last minute, and she insisted we visit her for tea. 

Thus we found ourselves on Jacob and Illse Mwanza’s patio and had a really wonderful afternoon. Waterfall book co-author Quentin Allen also stopped by, and over a humongous spread of black forest chocolate cake, muffins, cinnamon rolls and lemon cake accompanied by tea and coffee we enjoyed chatting for a couple hours. 

Jacob was quiet and reserved, but he is an accomplished economist and had some insightful thoughts on the Zambian economy and the newly elected president. Quentin and Ilse advised us on our next leg, rattling off waterfall names as fast as Jenny could jot them down, and at the mention of each waterfall, Quentin’s face would light up, “A delightful little waterfall, just wonderful.” The next name would come across, “Ah, a beautiful fall, just wonderful!”, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Ilse and Quentin’s enthusiasm for waterfalls is infectious, and without their intrepid wanderings across Zambia over the years, many would be unknown to all but a few locals. Pete and Melissa were starting to think they were heading home too soon.

Ilse was a font of knowledge and grilled us over our plans, offering alternatives and details that we had not heard of. Also she wanted to hear every detail of our Zambian travels to date; her ardor for good travel stories was clear.  We all had such a great time talking with Ilse, Jacob and Quentin. I’m so thankful she invited us over.

With regret we had to leave. it was time to get going and try to get back to Pioneer before dark, and also it was Pete and Melissa’s last night before their flight. Google maps sent us astray, into the backwaters of the eastern suburbs. No, you cannot take the back roads to Pioneer, even though it looks like you should be able to.

Pete and Melissa flew out the next day, and Jenny and I were left to our own devices. Now that we were alone, even on the first day we had a little bit of empty nest syndrome. We had such a good time with our friends here. Pete, Melissa, thank you for coming!

Last on the list was to go to a mechanic. The cruiser had developed a peculiarity since we began this trip, a hesitation in the throttle when driving between 2000 and about 2200 RPM. If you stomp on the accelerator, then the hesitation goes away and it’s fine, but if you are cruising at that speed, she stumbles a bit. This was accompanied, related or not we were unsure, with the glow plug light coming on periodically and staying on for long periods while driving, then inexplicably going off.

[this will devolve into a technical interlude…]

Some internet research turned up that the glow plug light is sort of like a dumb check-engine light on the 1HZ engine. But looking for engine repair advice online is much like looking for medical advice, the smallest symptom is almost always terminal. 

I was worried it was bad fuel. We had run injector cleaner through, which did clean up the exhaust a bit but otherwise didn’t help our hesitation. Toyota was booked, but Mudpackers directed us to their mechanic of choice.

Not listed on iOverlander or Google, he agreed to take a look at the cruiser the next morning. His shop is in the southern outskirts of Lusaka. Behind an unmarked gate we found a little outdoor workshop and mechanic Lewis Bingham and his team. 

Lewis’s actual business is as a mobile truck mechanic, but to keep himself and his staff busy when they are not out on call, he has a small workshop. We arrived and saw a rank of 4x4s in various states of disassembly, and people working on each one. There was no room for us, but Lewis wanted to take her for a drive and feel it himself anyway. 

At first of course the cruiser was on its best behavior and refused to hesitate, but finally she did. “Ah, you’ve got a flat spot. That’s what that’s called.” Lewis was convinced it was our EGR (exhaust gas recirculation) system. 

The EGR was only added to 1HZ engines to satisfy some attempt at emissions regulation in some countries, so the older engines do not have an EGR, but ours does. Lewis disassembled it, cycling the plunger on the valve, and it appeared fine. Reassembled. He checked the air filter, pronounced ours junk and threw it away promptly. He installed a GUD brand filter, which he said is the best South African aftermarket parts manufacturer. We checked the fuel filter, which wasn’t perfect but wasn’t terrible. I had a spare, so we replaced it out of prudence. 

Finally, when checking all the vacuum lines that are part of the EGR system, he noted that one was capped, that should have a breather on it. He wandered around the piles of engines lying on the shop floor and yanked one off another engine. “There you go!” and shoved it onto our vacuum line. 

All the while he was telling us about Africa. About Zambia, about the Seychelles, where he has family. He had been unable to leave the Seychelles (the horror) during a covid lockdown for four months but his team carried on repairing trucks without him, and business boomed because the mechanics that come from across the border couldn’t cross. He was really complimentary of his team and how good they were, working efficiently while he was unable to return to Zambia.

Eventually he said that he wasn’t satisfied he had fixed our vehicle, but that the next step was very invasive, the injector pump. I asked about the timing, which has not been checked since we’ve owned it. He discounted it immediately, telling us that the 1HZ is very picky about timing, that if it advanced at all you’ll have black smoke, and if it’s retarded at all you’ll have white smoke that’ll bring tears to your eyes. We had neither.

He advised that we’d better drive it for a while, and that the problem wouldn’t cause any damage. Since he wasn’t confident of his repairs, he refused to take payment for his time. We only could pay him for the filter. 

We drove around the rest of the day, and the car didn’t hesitate a bit. Fingers crossed he’d fixed it, but we were waiting until a long day on the road before we felt too confident. 

That worry more or less sorted, provisioning done, it was time to head north.

The Nitty Gritty

Nov 12, 2021 – Ntemwa to McBrides via Hook Bridge and Mwumbwa – 341km taking 10hrs, though in some trying driving conditions. The northern route is shorter by quite a bit, but involves two pontoon crossings, who knows how long those might take.

Camping at McBrides is $15 pppn, though we were only charged $10 because I guess Charlotte and Chris liked us? It was unclear, and we tried to pay $15 but Charlotte wouldn’t have it. Well worth $15 a night! Dinner was $20pp, with drinks extra. The boat cruise was very inexpensive, but I don’t recall the price. $15pp? All highly recommended.

Nov 15th, 2021 – McBride’s to Pioneer Camp – 280 km, drive time was something like 6 hrs, but we spent much more time than that going to the hospital, getting lunch and all the rest.

Pioneer camp is $10 pppn and well worth it. They also have a good website, wifi, shuttle service to the airport, laundry service (a godsend), potable water and numerous other conveniences.

Mudpackers is on iOverlander and Google Maps, far out Leopard’s Hill Road.

The Melisa Supermarket is on Google Maps in the Kabulonga neighborhood.

I’m starting to write in a bit of a rush, so if I’ve left out any nitty gritty details that you’d like email me and let me know.