Adventure heats up in Zambia

*This is a long one, but lots of new experiences for us. Also though these route has no doubt been done by many, I have not found many reports on it, so I have gone into a lot of detail.

I was a bit nervous, today was the first of several small but real risks that I’d signed us up for to make this itinerary work, and to keep things interesting. The key of course to not be too interesting, we wouldn’t want to get stuck, for example. This time it was crossing Lower Zambezi National Park. Normally you can only drive into the park from the West, or perhaps if you are adventurous and if the road is in good shape, you can take the northern escarpment road. Our guidebook advises against this, threatening real risk of a rollover on the steep roads, but it all depends on the state of the road in any given year, which will vary a lot.

The road east out of the park is not risky from a technical stand point, the climb not nearly as steep as the escarpment road, only that it may not exist. Or that it may be impassable, blocked by washed out ravines, or maybe trees pushed over by elephants might block the way. I don’t mean to be overly dramatic, but having been warned about the Zambian roads in November so many times, and having only heard a few reports of crossing by this route one can’t help but wonder if this is such a great plan. 

We left Mvuu at sunrise. Pete and Melissa were game for our scheme, although I am not sure I really briefed them adequately, but they are hardy travelers and as a team we are very good. Pete started off driving, moving at ‘transit speed’, occasionally a little over 30 kph. 40 kph is the rarely attainable speed limit in the GMA and the park, and one has to be very careful not to accidentally spook an elephant or come up on game around corners. We wanted to bank a little time for later in the day. 

We double checked with the rangers at the gate they assured us the road was passable. At the gate we also had a quick chat with another self drive vehicle, a South African couple that had moved to Zambia 15 years ago and was on holiday. 

In the short time at the gate we somehow managed to go from discussing the huge pack of wild dogs in the park to digress to politics, finding we were far on the opposite sites of the political spectrum. There was awkward talk of America’s last president, the current one, covid and the rest of it. At least we agreed on how great it was to be in the bush and not read the news. After we extracted ourselves from that we were on our way. They also planned to cross the park out the east, so we were likely to see them again and we hoped to avoid politics, though the husband appeared eager to dive right in. Luckily we did see them again, though not to talk politics as it turned out. 

Originally we wanted to take the main road deeper into the park before doing a bit of game driving, but we were worried we were wasting the little early morning time we had when wildlife might be most active, so we ducked down the the myriad of tracks closer to the river. 

A few spots required crossing very modest stretches of water, probably not even up to the rims, but there did seem to be some mud. Pete is a capable 4×4 driver, but as it is our car he deferred to our methods, which were to go into low range second gear for every crossing, no matter how benign it appeared. Every time we marched through without issue, even though it was overkill most of the time.

We marched in and out of the winterthorn trees, their canopy trimmed neatly by elephants, so we could see far into the forest. Impala, warthog, troops of guinea fowl, small groups of elephants all were mingling on the wide flood plains adjacent to the river. It looked just like the photos I’ve seen of the more famous Mana Pools, just across the river on the Zimbabwe side. Lots of birds as well, egrets and storks, ibis, a million doves, the occasional pied kingfisher, more carmine bee eaters all were present. 

We watched an elephant furiously charge a group of warthogs, who obligingly moved off, though they did not appear as alarmed as the elephant intended. We also had an adolescent elephant trumpeting angrily at us, ears wide in alarm, and an older elephant actually walked near to him and put their trunk on top of his, pushing it down, clearly saying, “That is enough of that.” And he stopped. These small interactions are what is so fascinating to see. 

Pete thinks poorly of lions and leopards, they get all the fame but you hardly ever see them do anything. But elephants and warthogs and herds of impala and puku are diurnal, or at least more so, and when we get these small glimpses of their life it is very special.

On another of the many unmarked loops in the park, a bit NE of the hippo pools, we spotted a male lion. He was sitting in the shade near a buffalo kill. After watching him do nothing (Pete started bird watching, uninterested in these boring cats) he was disturbed and had to defend his kill, from a pair of vultures. 

They would creep closer, sometimes side stepping so as to appear that they were just innocently approaching the buffalo, and then the great cat would rush the birds and they would fly off. He moved closer to the kill, and the vultures would move in again, slowly stepping a bit at time, patiently waiting, then stepping closer again. And he would rush them again. 

It was fascinating to watch, but was also eating up our time. We knew that we were going to have to get a move on if we were going to make it out of the park on time. Fairly confident that not much was going to happen with our lion anyway, we moved on.

Another kilometer and a half or so NE and the road cuts north, back towards the main road and Jeki Airstrip, where we would turn away from the river and start our eastward exit road.

We Get Stuck

The park had other plans though. We were presented with a muddy donga, about 1.5 land cruiser lengths long. It was mud, not water, and looked like it could be trouble. On the other hand there were relatively fresh tracks of another vehicle that had apparently passed. Pete looked at me questioningly, should he go for it? With false confidence I said yes, low range second gear and gun it to keep momentum up. Just one more of the many small crossings we’d made that day.

Off we went, engine roaring in low range, plowing across, and without any apparent effort at all the black cotton soil sucked us in and we stopped dead. Nothing. Our off-road tires had been reduced to slicks, fully caked with mud. We tried to back and fro with double diffs locked, but with no traction it didn’t matter. We were sunk pretty much to the rear axel, stuck.

This was a first for us, we’ve driven 50,000 kilometers around Africa in this cruiser and we know we are lucky to have not been stuck yet. Deep sand, no problem. In mud though we are novices, only a few other encounters. And the black cotton soil is famous. It’s wet clay make up is like some sort of non-newtonian fluid that doesn’t behave the laws of physics, both incredibly sticky and also fearsomely slick at the same time. When walking in it your get taller and taller as the mud builds up on the soles of your shoes, or in Jenny’s case, even barefoot she grew stilts.

It was the middle of the day, 40°C, we were deep into a national park with few visitors, almost non of which ever come this far into the park. We have no winch, though even if we did the closest tree was quite far away. Winch advocates will often say, “Well then you just bury your spare tire and use it as an anchor.” Yeah, right. If I’m going to dig a trench deep enough to drop my spare tire into I think I’ll just dig our my car instead, thank you.

We do however have a hi-lift jack, shovel, max trax and a Land Cruiser full of capable folks. I got out first to explore the scene. We were bogged deep. It was very hot. The mud sucked hard at my boots and I lumbered to hard ground. After a brief survey we elected to go for the max trax.

These orange traction boards are well regarded by the off-road and cost a fortune. To date we’ve only ever used them for leveling the car a sloped campsite, so let’s just see if they are worth the money.

We hemmed and hawed about strategy. Putting the max trax under the rear wheels, to lift the heavy back end of the cruiser, seemed like it might be the way to go. On the other hand the front axel and wheels were almost clear. If we could get good traction up front with the differentials locked, perhaps that would do it? It certainly looked like less work. 

Pete and Jenny forsook shoes, knowing it was hopeless. I clung to my boots, even though mud came in over the tops. Melissa was on animal watch, knowing there were elephants about and at least one lion 1.5 kilometers away. Which seems like a long ways, until you’ve got your back turned and are calf deep in the mud. 

We dug and dug, and the mud refused to dislodge from the shovel. Meaning every shovel full got heavier and heavier as we tried to knock the mud off. It was heavy work. We cleared the front tires, shoved a few sticks in front of the rear tires, put in the max trax and gave it our first try. 

The black cotton laughed at us. Nothing, not even a hint of progress. We conceded that we had sort of gone for the quick and dirty approach, hoping for an easy out. This time we got serious. 

We got our hi-lift jack out, and formidable tool that is capable of remarkable assistance in this sort of thing. After all, how are you going to jack up a car with a bottle jack when the mud is up to the axel? But also the hi-lift jack is the cause of many injuries, because if you don’t fully engage each click the long steel lever arm will whip back up and smack the user in the jaw. That was the last thing we needed, and injury deep in the bush with no vehicle, so we proceeded with caution. 

This time we dug more and got the max trax properly in there. We dug out the front axel more. We dug out the rear wheels more, though water seeped in around them making it hard to tell just how big the hole the rear was in. Clearly big.

Second attempt…nada. We got the slightest vibration of the tires riding on the studs of the traction boards, but no bite. We needed to jack the vehicle up higher, get the max trax fully under the front tires if we were going have any hope. I also was thinking maybe we had made a critical error, trying for the front tires. We thought we’d give it one more try before regrouping. 

At this point in time Melissa wisely ordered us to start taking breaks. It was blisteringly hot and we were pouring with sweat, working in the direct sunlight. We actually left the vehicle running and a/c blasting, so we took turns. Two outside slogging away in the mud, two inside drinking water and cooling off a bit. The a/c seems sort of like a wimp move for a real off-road African explorer, but I like to think that back in the day we’d have been almost as happy under the shade of the not so far away tree. And the risk of heat exhaustion was high.

I thought about Paul Stewart’s “Trek”, recounting a young kid digging out a Morris Traveler (!) from the sand of the Sahara, without a shovel, working at night to avoid the heat of the desert. Or Frederik and Josephine’s remarkable account of crossing the Congo (also without a winch) and digging the car out multiple times a day. If they can do it then so can we.

Or maybe we can’t. Getting close to try number three our other self drive friends from the gate pull up behind us. Can you believe it? We were stunned, having only seen one other vehicle so far that day. They walked up and greeted, graciously thanking us for finding the deep mud so they didn’t have to. We chatted a bit about them pulling us out, and we decided it’d be best if they try to find another way around the mud to try and pull us out by the front. 

Their finding a way around gave us time for one last chance to salvage our pride and try to get ourselves out. Initially we were relishing the challenge, but the heat was sapping our enthusiasm, that and we were on borrowed time to get out of the park.

Pete and Jenny work together back home and are a great team. They were out making the last sally against the black cotton. The hi-lift jack was doing it’s thing, though they snapped our wooden board we use as a base plate. They tried lifting each tire up so the max trax could sit under the tires. We had good contact, and I engaged low range first gear and made our last attempt. Nothing. We heard the tires trying to grab the boards, but at this point it became clear that the rear was too heavy and bogged too deep. This probably would have been obvious to more experienced off-roaders. 

It had taken them 30 minutes or so of hunting to find a way around, but their 100 series cruiser pulled up, this time in front of us. I pulled out our kinetic recovery strap, and right away they tried to put the strap on their tow ball, a huge no-no. This is because the tow ball is only supported at one end, and a very common very dangerous accident is for the tow ball bolt to shear and for the tow ball itself to fly through the windshield of the vehicle being recovered, potentially killing the driver. 

Right around when all this was happening a herd of elephant started crossing the mud about 100 yards away. Not what we needed, to be all chased into the cars by elephant. But they are dangerous, and everyone seems to agree that the elephants in the Lower Zambezi are particularly surly, too many years of poaching I suppose. We kept an eye on them, and they on us. I think they didn’t like the look of us either and thankfully they moved off without fuss. 

That over, I politely talked our friend into moving the recovery strap. He had some sort of tow hook under his bumper, and we had the tie down points that are stock on every vehicle. These are not meant for kinetic recovery, where you deliberately leave slack in the tow line and shock load it, counting on the elasticity of the recovery strap to compound the energy and snatch the bogged vehicle out of the mud. This works very well, but is dangerous and must be done correctly at every step. Those points we were using are actually for securing the vehicle when being shipped. Getting proper recovery points has been on my todo list for quite a long time and I never got around to it, which I was regretting now.

Strap rigged we went for a straight tow out, no snatching us out. He pulled ahead in low range first, and when the line came tight Pete did the same, me directing. And…out she came, no drama.

What a relief. We chatted a bit with our saviors, saying our thank yous emphatically and also discussing the route for the rest of the day. It was getting late to make Bridge Camp, but we’d see what we could do. 

It took us a while to recover from our recovery. We were more or less covered in mud, the vehicle was a mess. All our recovery gear was also muddy, and also had been sitting in the intense heat of the Zambian sun, so the jack was so hot we couldn’t even touch it without gloves. We retreated the whole operation to the shade of a tree. We washed the mud off in the hot dirty water of the mud hole we’d just got stuck in, which was no doubt some percentage hippo and elephant urine, but it did the trick. 

I learned a lot of lessons in that short time. Respect black cotton soil. Don’t take risks you don’t have to. That people with irreconcilable political differences are also capable of great kindness, though I can say after our initial conversation I had definitely lost sight of that.

Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent discussing the technical approach we would have taken next. I think jacking up each corner of the vehicle, and putting sticks and rocks under the front, and the max tracks under the back would have been the right approach.  Also just a ton more digging of that infernal mud. It was so sticky the digging experience was very frustrating. 

Alternatively I have heard of jacking up the vehicle high enough to push it sideways off the jack and into new tracks, out of the ruts we had made. Perhaps? Given enough time we’d figure it out I’m sure. 

After all that it was time to get going. Insult to injury, we had also just burned what little game driving time we’d had to try to see a bit of the middle of the park. Feeling buoyed by our rescue and fairly optimistic, why I do not know, we decided to take just the slightest detour from the main road to see at least a little bit of this part of the park that had so far eluded us.

Just before Jeki Airstrip we took the road that passes south of a pan of intermittent water marked on T4A. Right away the landscape South and East of Jeki airstrip was totally different than what we had seen. We could see for what seemed kilometers though the forest, obliging trimmed to the same level by elephants. Under the blue green leaves of the winterthorne trees we could see more elephant, impala, puku, herds of buffalo and waterbuck. It really lended itself to viewing with binoculars because you could see so far, yet still in the forest. The animals were still skittish.

Now it was business time, time to make our break out of the park. It is illegal to bush camp in the park and we intended to avoid it if at all possible. Not least because we didn’t want to incur another day of park fees, not to mention if there was some sort of fine for illegally camping in the park. We hoped to bush camp east of the park boundary, thinking that Bridge Camp was probably too far by now. 

Making the turn north the winterthorn gave way to thick dry miombo and acacia scrub, the road littered with fresh elephant dung. It was two spoor track, but for the most part in pretty good shape, with the odd go-around trees that had been fallen across the road by elephant. We joke that elephants hate trees, but of course they do this to get the sweet leaves that are otherwise out of reach.

The road tees at a junction, with the sign to the left showing “Lusaka”, the beginning of the escarpment road. The road the the right, no sign, is ours. It immediately crosses the deep sand of the dry Mushika River bed. The road is long, slow and just rocky enough that you can’t make any speed of note. We bumped, jostled and vibrated along, the hour getting later and the sun lower. We crossed countless small dry rivers that would certainly be difficult or impossible in the wet. There was also a lot of evidence of a road crew having been through, with branches trimmed with saws that would have other wise been across the road, and earth having been moved aside or pushed into washouts to make it passable. 

I imagine that we transited this road in the best condition it gets, with a full dry season of maintenance by whatever park staff that use it. I’m sure that every wet season it becomes impassable and the road crew must start anew.

We passed one wonderful bush camp site that was still within the park boundaries and we hoped we might see something similar once we exited. Eventually we crossed the green line on the GPS, and we began to accept that there is no eastern gate to the park. The terrain here is thick woodland with hardly space to pull off the road, and also thick with tsetse flies. Not very appetizing bush camping. Not too much longer we started to see the first settlement, and the first person we saw had a rifle slung, though it wasn’t clear for what purpose. He waved and smiled and we kept moving.

Just at dusk we arrived at the D145 tar road, and it was clear that we either would have to camp in the village or make the hour drive to Bridge Camp in the dark. Not having the energy to organize village camping, where we would no doubt be very welcome, but also the focus of a lot of attention and curiosity, we decided to break our “don’t drive at night in Africa” rule. 

This road leads south to the border and I was worried it would be thick with truck traffic, but it was quiet. Jenny drove, she is often what I call “the closer” good at the end of the day, at city driving, and at the dynamic driving through busy villages and roads where things are not predicable. 

People were all over the road. Bicycles, kids, women with loads on their head, people carrying thatch cut for roofing and charcoal for cooking and who knows what else. We think that in these dusky dark hours people are doing the hard manual labor that it is too hot to do in the middle of the sweltering November days. This means the road is for them more than us. Since there were no almost no other cars we drove right down the middle, finally arriving at Bridge Camp about an hour and a half after nightfall. 

Bridge Camp was very welcoming, knowing that our night drive was probably not all that relaxing the greeted us with, “It is all okay now, you have arrived.” We quickly made camp, gratefully took showers to rinse off the days labors, threw together some quick pasta for dinner and collapsed into bed.

The Petauke Road

Morning came at Bridge Camp the moment the upper limb of the sun broke the horizon, the heat was turned on. Hot and no breeze, even at the early hour of five-something o’clock there was no point in trying to stay in bed. We rose and lingered in the shade, sipping coffee and having a slower morning after our big day the day before. 

The fridge was turned down a wee bit too cold and the boiled eggs were frozen and unappetizing, but with the heat I didn’t have much interest anyway. After a slowish time of relaxing a bit Jenny realized before the rest of us that we actually had a pretty big day ahead and we should get a move on. This had the benefit of getting us into the air conditioned cab, so it wasn’t a hard sell for anyone.

The goal today was to drive the Petauke road to the Luangwa Valley. Normally the Great East Road is taken from Lusaka, a mostly excellent paved highway. It is a 10 or 11 hour drive from Lusaka if you are not fussing around, or you can break the day, as many do, at Bridge Camp. The alternative is the rougher and less certain Petauke Road (technically the D139 to D513 to D134) that is more direct, but a slow gravel road. 

Marked as dry season only, I read one report saying it took someone four days to take this route, but Tracks4Africa (T4A) said it was 7.5 hours, so we crossed our fingers for the latter, assuming the four days was an attempt too early in the season. 

Also on the list for the day was a minor provision, top up diesel and buy some more airtime. We thought we’d try the roadside market at the Luangwa bridge, but freshies were lacking, mostly a whole lot of dried fish. We would look further along.

After several days of dirt road traveling it was nice to be back on the tar for a bit and we enjoyed the easy cruising along tarmac. I picked up a speeding ticket for doing 67 in a 60 zone, oops! There was a camera trap, and the truck I was passing at the time also got flagged down.

The truck driver was having a fairly animated argument with the police, and the police were game, sort of, “Alright, you want to argue about it, lets argue about it!” Which I appreciate, that they didn’t take it as disrespecting their authority I guess. Certainly not the same you’d get from the police in America. 

I did not argue, and paid my 300 Kw ($17 USD) fine, complete with an “Admission of Guilt” receipt printed on nice stationary. The police officer did offer to me, “I help you out if you help me out.” Meaning he’d give me a lower fine if I didn’t require him to provide a receipt. I declined his offer of a bribe, and in a few minutes was on my way. All three of the traffic police present were friendly and all smiles, no guilt trip, just them knowing they had caught me and otherwise happy to wish us well on our journey.  

Surprisingly Petauke has no information on iOverlander, the crowd sourced app for overlanding information on fuel, campsites, water, shopping and the like. We found town to have all we needed. Fuel was cash only, because “the network is down”, a common refrain, but there was an ABSA ATM in town, as well as a Choppies grocery store. I bought eggs off some kid on the street, 2 kw/ea. The same price as in Chirundu, perhaps the egg price is fixed?

From here it was onto the unknown and back to rural dirt roads. The beginning, on the D139, is a wonderful graded road through the countryside. We aired down the tires a bit. Locals on bicycles and walking dot the road, the red dirt road stretched before us and the land cruiser ate up the kilometers, gliding over the corrugations as well as one could ask for. 

Large mango trees provide glorious shade in many of the villages we drove by, branches heaped full of almost ripe mangos. Looks like it will be a bumper crop of the fruit this year, I hope we are here still, I’m sure the mangos will be cheap by the looks of the volume available. Mosts of the fields we drove by were unplanted, appearing to be last years crop of cotton, among other things. 

Perhaps they don’t plant until the rainy season comes? But it is coming soon. So soon in fact that I my mind skips ahead to our next uncertainty. Will we manage to drive the infamous 05 Road up the Muchinga Escarpment from South Luangwa to Kasanka? Will we make it to Ntemwa Camp in Busanga Plains, where the camp owner has warned us of the bad roads and asked if we have a winch? Cottony cumulous clouds loom, laden with moisture and I ponder our back up plans.

Once we connect to the D513 the road slows a bit, a normal rural gravel road. Not bad, but not fast. Village after village passes by and we see some real country life. It is interesting to travel with our friends, who have never been to Zambia, who ask great questions on how it all works, most of which we don’t know the answers to. We note that almost everyone’s teeth are so white and beautiful, and I assume they’re not going to the dentist for their six month checkup?

Also deforestation is happening, the charcoal industry biting deep into the country side. I can hardly begrudge the rural community doing what they can to make a living, but it is very hard to see. A swath a half a kilometer wide or more stretches on either side of this rural road of trees cut down and charcoal pits smoldering. It is hard to see.

Another chore on the list is to top up our water tank. We kept driving by village boreholes, but many are placed amongst huts or are thronged with people. Eventually we passed one nearby the road, still with lots of people around it but easy to drive the truck to, so we may as well ask if we can get some water.

There is a bit of a commotion when we stop, and one older lady understands we want some water. It is children and women who pump the water, and without discussion they start to try to pour their water buckets into our tank. Not making us wait in line, not letting us pump our own water. Pouring a bucket into our tank is hard due to where it’s placed, so we start to fill some empty 5 liter jugs we have and pour them in. At first they pumped, but feeling guilty that they are doing the work eventually we were allowed in and Melissa took over the  pumping.

This trip we brought a small photo album from home, of our house, of sights near home in California and of our work. We’re a big curiosity in this group, and I wanted to share a little bit, not just swoop in, take water and leave, so I bust out the album and start showing photos. I crouched down to show some kids, and in seconds I was surrounded by an igloo of people all crowding in to see what I had. This was great fun, and worked to allow Pete, Jenny and Melissa to get the water filled.

We took a few photos and waved goodbye, all in good spirits. No one asked for anything except a few kids at the end asking for sweets or money. This contrasts to earlier on the same road or other places where the begging has been pronounced and uncomfortable. 

When kids get on their hands and knees and hold out their cupped hands as we drive by, I hate it. I think some tourists must throw out sweets or coins? I don’t know, but if you are traveling here please do not promote begging. In my mind giving sweets, coins or even school supplies is to make you feel good about yourself, less for their benefit. Give to reputable charitable organizations, or if you want to be more personal perhaps to the local school master or clinic. But beware of the risk, you are painting tourists as a source of free stuff.

The road turns worse, slower, rocky. In parts there are no villages and trees stand mostly unmolested, but a surprising amount of the road is lined with rural villages. Mostly people wave or are uninterested in us, a few kids running after us with big smiles. 

We wondered if when we got to the Game Management Area (GMA, a large sort of buffer zone around National Parks) if the charcoal harvesting would stop. There is no sign when crossing the line, and no, it does not stop. It thins a bit, but continues. Arriving at the Luangwa River the park is on the opposite bank and the GMA on our side with the road. Eventually the settlements thin out. Since our plans are to bush camp tonight I started to have some reservations, would we be able to find a place to camp out of the way from all the people? The daylight was getting lower and we didn’t have forever to find camp. 

We saw a large herd of elephants, giraffe, impala, and baboons. After some poking around we find a spur off the road that loops out along flats with grass tightly trimmed by hippos. Further along this two spoor track brought us out onto sandy flats, and after a grove of tsetse fly filled trees we found the most amazing clearing. 

A bush camp has a long list of requirements. It must be in a place that it is legal to camp (most, but not all, GMA zones this is allowed, check ahead of time), preferably in a place with some visibility and clear from brush so that you can see animals before their on top of you, out of the sight of the road to stay clear of the unwanted attention, though any local that happens across our camp is almost certainly likely to just be curious about our story. Clear of brush also means less flies, we also look for a flat camp site, a place where a fire can be safely laid, and if we are lucky a nice view. This time we had it all, one of our finest I would say.

That night we grilled chicken and butternut over the fire and listened to the sounds of the bush. Loud roaring and chuffing of lions came after dark, and with our brightest flashlight and the binoculars we could just see the eyes of at least four lions in the distance. Game was abundant in this area and we weren’t worried, they had much more interesting things to go after than us, but it was wonderful to see and know all this wildlife was about. 

Also we noticed the lights of someone else’s camp in the distance. Probably local fishing camps that we had driven by. On top of this we saw a small brush fire, ubiquitous in the rural countryside. Coming from California an unattended brush fire is unheard of and extremely dangerous, but here they are common and seem to fizzle out.

This one certainly fizzled, because it started raining. Dramatic looking thunderstorms began to sweep the Luangwa Valley, and we watched lighting in the distance as we ate dinner under the awning as it rained. The whole thing was sort of magical, what a first bush camp for our friends.

It was sweltering when we arrived, and with the cool breeze and rain dropped the temps quite a bit, thankfully. Lions roared, hippos wheezing and honking and hyenas whooping, we slept hard.

In the night I realized that we had driven over some dry soil that could turn to mud upon our departure from this camp, but we rose in the morning to find it baked dry by the early morning sun. 

Leaving early we enjoyed a game drive in the GMA on our way to Wildlife Camp. We saw Thornicroft’s Giraffe, only found in the Luangwa Valley, and herds of elephant and the other usual suspects. We also were driving an signposted loop towards the river and were stopped by a hunting vehicle. They declared that this was a private road and that we had to turn back as there were “active baits” in the area.

The guide did the talking and was very polite, but the client gave us the evil eye, clearly very annoyed that we had stumbled into his hunt. Hunting is allowed in the GMA, land leased to concession holders by the government who in turn organize hunts. The practice is in theory well regulated, though in practice it varies. 

Turning around we thought about the lions we’d seen last night and hoped that the active baits weren’t intended for them.

After what we felt was quite a journey, we arrived at Wildlife Camp, just outside the small town of Mfuwe and the Zambia’s most famous park, South Luangwa National Park. 

Wildlife camp has four sites set along the river, and several more set back a bit. All have access to the view of the river front, gazing across to the National Park. On arrival a large herd of elephant were at the waterhole near reception and made their way on to the sand bank in front of camp to drink from the river, and later crossed behind camp into the GMA. Wildlife abounds. 

There are also chalets and safari tents away from the camping area. There is a very welcome pool, to cool off from the over 40°C temps, as well as a bar. I saw a restaurant, but we did not eat there. 

Over the next few days we enjoyed South Luangwa National Park and Wildlife camp. Highlights were having a pack of wild dogs run through the back of camp. Later they made a kill out of sight and we saw them go down to the river to drink right in front of camp. We watched wild dogs from the pool! A few lions came near to camp one night, very loud, and staff later told us they killed an impala behind camp that night. That isn’t even in the park!

In the park we did a night drive organized by the camp and saw three leopards in one night, two of which were a mating pair. This on top of a Pel’s fishing owl in daylight, hyenas, bushbabies, and George the miraculous spotter picked up a tiny chameleon in the trees in the dark.

We also did a walking safari in the park and learned quite a bit about important elements of the ecosystem that are left out of our books. How termites are instrumental to the ecosystem, identified different kinds of trees, got a tracking lesson and more. 

On our own drives we did quite well too, though nothing overly dramatic. There are animals everywhere and it was hard to know which way to go. I think I slightly preferred the southern game driving tracks, but Jenny likes the north. All are good.

We also ventured into Mfuwe town to refuel and provision. Last time we really liked the Manyana Market, just out of town. Extremely clean and they have frozen meat and other goods, including probably the best biltong chili bites we’ve ever had. This time around though they were low on stock and we didn’t do as well. So we shopped in the open market, which has the benefit of being very inexpensive.

We spent the last evening getting packed and stowed for an early getaway, to drive the 05. It had rained again in the park at night, but Herman, owner of Wildlife Camp, thought the road would be drivable. He said that if the river was too high to camp there for the night and it would come down to a drivable level. There is a ranger camp across the river at the exit gate, and assuming we could talk to them he thought they would be okay with that. 

A little apprehensive about the big day ahead, we slept.

The Nitty Gritty

Lower Zambezi National Park

Fees are $30 pppd for international visitors. Vehicle is $15. The normal fee for international visitors is $25, but raised to $30 for self drive visitors, I don’t know why. The check in process can be a bit cumbersome, so at the gate if you know your plans you can pay for multiple days in a row, saving you time at the gate for future days. This has saved us a lot of precious early morning game viewing time at Lower Zambezi and South Luangwa.

If visiting this park in the future I think we’re likely to bee-line it for the area South and East of Jeki airstrip, even though it is further into the park. Even though it means getting up very early I think it’s worth being ready to enter at 0600, at least in the hot season, to gain those few precious hours and minutes of cool temperatures that animals will be more active.

To drive either the escarpment road or the road to the east make sure you are confident in your vehicle and preferably have some means of communicating for help. Satphone or inReach or whatever. If a satphone make sure you have a number to call too, it hardly will do you any good other wise. The eastern road would not be passable by a vehicle much bigger than ours, there were many low branches and we earned quite a few “bush stripes”, with brush dragging down the side of the vehicle.

From the turn north at the Mushika river (S15° 36.341′ E29° 45.364’) to the tar road, the D145, took us 3h 40m. I would have preferred to go slower, but we were trying to save ourselves some night driving.

Bridge Camp

200kw pppn ($12 USD). Camp area is uninspiring, with a shared shaded area and dish washing sink. Camp is very close to road, but thankfully traffic is minimal. Ablutions are near by, with hot water provided by a donkey boiler (read: intermittent supply). Hot water was totally unnecessary, in fact the cold water was fairly warm. Ablutions score, maybe a 3/5. Good enough, but a bit funky.

They do have a really nice bar deck, small swimming pool surrounded by bougainvillea, and food available. All with a view of the Luangwa River. This area is really nice and I could see spending an afternoon here. 

Wildlife Camp

$10 pppn. Sites 6-9 are riverfront. All the river front sites are good, with maybe a slight preference to site No. 6 for view and a bit more space. Each has a shaded picnic table, braai area, fire pit and electricity. Shared ablutions are close by and very tidy, with hot water. 

We got laundry done here for a reasonable fee. We also filled water here and suffered no ill effects. They have wi-fi, supposedly available at reception from noon-1400. To Pete’s repeated consternation it was never available from noon-1400, because that is when the boss was on lunch break and he took the wifi router with him. Regardless, if you need wifi it’s probably available sometime. There is cell reception for airtel at camp.

Oct 26th-Oct 29th, 2021

It was border crossing day. There is always a little bit of trepidation when crossing a border in Africa. Nothing to be scared of, but mostly a wonder; will our plans be disrupted, will we be delayed, do I have the right paperwork?

To start we needed our PCR tests. We drove to town and picked up the results from the Namibian Institute of Pathology lab at the Katima Hospital. We arrived at the same time as the five other travelers that we had tested with yesterday, and we all were given a copy of our results (negative) within a few minutes. First hurdle cleared.

One of the other couples was Swiss, traveling in their Namibian registered Land Cruiser. They asked if we had our police clearance, a document required to bring a vehicle into Zambia. We did, but it was 18 months old. They were worried for us, because apparently it must be no more than one month old. They said last time they’d been sent back into Namibia by Zambian authorities to get one, not a good sign for us. 

For South Africans (and South African vehicles) this document, the police clearance, is a notorious pain to get, as the South African police don’t issue a police clearance, meant to establish that they vehicle is verified as not having been stolen, unless the vehicle is being exported permanently. As we hadn’t been to South Africa since March 2020, there was no way to obtain a new one. Fingers crossed we wouldn’t have issues, there are many stories of travelers being held up or asked for bribes to resolve the stalemate.

After getting our test results we headed the couple short kilometers to the border. We were in and out of Namibia Customs and Immigration in record time, six minutes. Can you believe it! I couldn’t, and it turned out to be too good to be true. We wound our way around a long line of trucks to the final police boom that crosses the road before exiting Namibia, marking the no-mans land between border posts. The bom was down and after some waiting and no action Jenny investigated, finding that no one could leave until some dispute involving a lot of police further up the road was resolved.

More waiting. Remember what I said about waiting being a skill we needed to hone? Here we were again, honing. Jenny was serene and happy, I mildly agitated. Lets go, we are so close! I wandered up to the boom and was sent back. More waiting. It was hot. Bonus though, we were parked in the sun and the new solar panels were making over 10 amps. I call this “the electron update”. Jenny doesn’t always appreciate the electron update, particularly in the early morning. She says she checks the battery in the morning not to see how it’s doing, but to see what kind of mood I will be in after I see it is too low.

After an hour, watching more and more police walk back from the dispute, a police woman told us there had been an altercation with the Zambian money changers. They illegally walk across no-mans land and come over to the Namibian side to change money with travelers and truck drivers. When the Namibian police drove them back they resisted and threw rocks at the police, resulting in both Zambia and Namibia authorities closing the border until they could get it all settled down.

Another little while passed and we were let through, after the police woman asked us if we were ready, even if we got rocks thrown at us. We were not the target of the money changers frustrations, but to show respect we treated the threat seriously.

No rocks were thrown, and a few minutes later we were on the Zambian side. The Zambia side has all but one stop in a single building, much more streamlined than the Kazungula border we took in 2018. 

Details of the border crossing in the Nitty Gritty Section. No mention of police clearance was made, I think because we were traveling with a carnet. Due to a computer being down it took an extra hour. Four hours total and we were across. Not fast, but plenty of time.

The M10 Sesheke – Livingstone road

We still had to drive the feared Sesheke road. A couple we met who’d just spent six months traveling to Uganda and back and they said it’s the worst road they traveled the whole trip. To avoid this road the alternative is to drive all the way up to Mongu in, adding a day to the trip, or transiting through Botswana, adding another border crossing. 

We decided to bite the bullet and just get on with the Sesheke/Livingstone road. The first 30km is fine, where we began to think that maybe it was all hype. But it went to pieces fast, and then complete shit until a couple kilometers outside Kazungula. 

In the beginning the road is so bad it’s funny. After some of that, annoying. Then grim. Then just stoic silence. Thankfully there was hardly any other traffic, I assume because everyone else knows to avoid this road, and we could wind our way to whichever side of the road seemed least bad. More pothole than road, mostly you drive on a dirt road adjacent to the “road”. These dirt roads are so bad that there is another dirt road adjacent to them, and the whole time you are weaving back and forth looking for the least awful way to proceed.

It was so hot that the heat shimmer causes a mirage, making the “paved” portion look like smooth tarmac in the distance. Like a shipwrecked sailor running to the mirage of an oasis in the distance, many times we thought we’d passed to worst of it, optimistically popping back onto the “tarmac”, only to see the illusion broken, that we’d been duped. 

Four hours later the suffering was over, we passed the last hour between Kazungula and Livingstone in the relative peace of uneventful road, arriving at the Victoria Falls Waterfront Hotel and Campsite.

Livingstone

Last time we were in Livingstone we stayed at the Maramba River Lodge, but this time around we thought we’d mix it up and this place looked like it might be a modest upgrade to the already very pleasant Maramba. Though not terrible, it wasn’t really an upgrade. 

It does have a lovely bar deck over the Zambezi river, a bit up from the falls, and we arrived just in time to have a beer and watch the sun set over Zimbabwe’s Zambezi National Park on the opposite bank.

With excellent timing our friends Pete and Melissa walked up and we enjoyed a rendezvous over food from the restaurant, discussing our upcoming plans together for a Zambia tour, two weeks and a bit of seeing some highlights of Zambia. After which they would fly home and we will continue north. 

They spent the next day seeing the falls, and us taking care of a few odds and ends. Part of our day was spent reorganizing the vehicle to figure out how to shoe horn us all in.

Though Victoria Falls is amazing and well worth the visit, we have been there three times and would no doubt return again, so no great loss to give it a pass this time. 

The plan for the first leg was to try to make it all the way to Mvuu Camp on the banks of the Zambezi, outside Lower Zambezi National Park. It is a long drive and I wasn’t sure we’d pull it off, so we had a plan to stop early if we got behind or were tired of driving. Last time we did this the road from Mazabuka to the T2 junction was terrible and slow going, which wouldn’t help our time. 

To the Lower Zambezi

With the upcoming bad road in mind we made an 0600 departure. The T1 had light traffic, light enough that we didn’t get stuck behind any slow trucks for much time. There are two road toll booths now along the way, 20 kw each time. You show your road tax and they staple a new receipt to it to show along the way if you need to. I am happy to pay this surcharge, the road was in excellent shape. 

We passed the Moorings Campsite, more or less a half way point to either Lusaka or Lower Zambezi, but too early to stop for us. In Mazabuka we fueled and took a detour out of town, because they are working on the main road! The gas station attendants informed us that the road has been repaired, and they smiled when we told them we remembered it from before. Sure enough, back on the T1, the formerly disastrously rough stretch was now new tarmac, what a relief. We sailed along swiftly. 

Turning onto the T2 ahead of schedule Mvuu was easily in our sights. The T2 drops south and is the main route for trucking to Zimbabwe, and along the way we saw terrible accidents that had happened, the burned out shell of turned over tanker trucks, smashed 40’ containers along the side of the road, reminding us to drive with vigilance. Chirundu is the border town, if we continued on the road brings one to Zimbabwe. Also it is our last fuel stop, with jerry cans and tank topped up we turned left onto dirt road that parallels the mighty Zambezi river. We arrived at the very pleasant Mvuu Camp 10 hrs from leaving Livingstone. 

I felt pretty good about this. 10 hours is a long day in the car, but Zambia is a big country and it’s sort of unavoidable, or if you break up all the long stretches it adds quite a few days to the trip. I was feeling a bit anxious, having been in charge more or less of the itinerary, and thus committing all of us to a number of long days in the car between attractions. But watching Zambia pass by is so much more interesting than what we see on a long day on the road at home, it is much more bearable. Also it always gives rise to more questions about how it all works. What are those storage bins for, where is all the charcoal going, why are some roads so good and others so bad? Always more questions, it’s part of what is interesting about being here.

Mvuu is on the banks of the Zambezi, a large camp in mostly shaded campsites, as well as bungalows on the opposite side of the bar, restaurant and pool area. We were the only campers that day, but we had pre-booked as we wanted to get one of the two riverfront sites. Each site is named, and the riverfront sites are Elly and Mvuu, both equally good, though Mvuu is adjacent to one of the bungalows.

Each site has private outdoor ablutions (Only one small scorpion, 5/5!), hot water, baboon resistant trash receptacle, fire ring, and a camp attendant to helps you and other campers out to keep you safe(er) from wildlife, builds you a fire in the evening and does dishes in the morning. Fancy camping, but also not cheap. In our case this was Stanley, and he pointed out the absolutely monstrous crocodile about 20 meters from our campsite down on the grassy bank. This croc sat sedately, but it certainly prevented our interest in a closer view of the river.

Stanley, wanting to ensure our respect for the wildlife risks that exists here I suppose, pointed out that we must be careful, a guest was killed here a few years ago by and elephant, and his own wife was killed by a crocodile while doing the dishes at the river bank last year. That cool water tempered the mood somewhat, and not long after Stanley ordered us down from our camp to a sitting area near the bank, high enough to be safe from crocodiles, but low enough to be safe from the heard of elephants that came through camp. It was quite a welcome to Zambia for Pete and Melissa. 

After a long day in the car getting here we set aside the next day for a short exploratory drive in the Game Management Area (GMA) adjacent to the park, and then an evening boat trip organized by Mvuu.

Driving around the GMA we saw elephant, warthog, impala, all very skittish compared to the animals that we’re used to. My goal today was to take a look at Chongwe Falls, on the Chongwe river that makes the border between the GMA and the Lower Zambezi National Park.

We wound our way through the tracks up to the falls, to find a dry river bed and empty falls. Not surprising since it is the end of a long dry season. The falls are also accessible from the park side, and we decided to drive a rough track up onto the park side and to the park gate to chat with the rangers at the gate. 

At the gate we met a guide told us about a huge pack of wild dogs in the park, and where to find them. We’d already booked the boat trip for that afternoon, and going into the park was going to cost us. On the other hand, wild dogs are a fairly rare sighting, particularly a large pack, and after agonizing for a bit we pulled the trigger and went for it. 

Not having been into this park before we weren’t confident we’d be able to follow the guide’s directions. Crossing the wide open plain we found the conspicuous termite mound he mentioned and noted his tire tracks. Sure enough, a little off the road was a very large pack of wild dogs. Thirty-three by our count, a huge pack. There were pups that were beginning to mature, all in one pile, getting up and reorganizing themselves frequently. A heap of less active adults about 20 meters away. We were able to spend quite a while with them, and even though it was their rest time in the heat of the day they did move about a bit to give us some interactions to watch.

We were pretty pumped up by our wild dog sighting, but it was time to head back for the boat trip. We departed the park by the main road, which requires a river crossing that was about the height of our tires, but along a rocky riverbed with good traction, so little chance of getting stuck. 

Only a few hundred meters from the river crossing, into the GMA we sighted a leopard. Incredible luck. the leopard watched for a few seconds and took off parallel to the road. We moved up and were able to spend a few minutes with it (not sure if it was male or female) before it took off. The Lower Zambezi was certainly starting off well, it was turning into quite a day.

Getting on the water for the boat trip was a nice break from the heat, the Zambezi Valley being one of hottest places in Zambia, only rivaled by our next planned stop, the Luangwa Valley. We zoomed along glassy water as our guide and boat driver pointed out birds, hippos and crocs in extremely pleasant riverine scenes. 

He brought us to a carmine bee eater colony nesting in little holes in the riverbank, and we turned the engine off and drifted along the bank, watching them swarm the bank and the trees, many with beaks holding moths or bees and other insects. They fly into their nests and feed their young, or perch on the crest of the river bank, posed in near perfect afternoon light for us next to their comrades. Beautiful. This nesting is exclusive to this time of year, one benefit of tolerating the heat of October or November.

Further along we watched a herd of elephants organize themselves on the Zambia riverbank and plunge into the river, crossing to the Zimbabwe side. At the deepest part it is just their trunks above water, and the littlest elephant is in the middle of the group, being held up, squeezed in between larger adults to stay afloat. 

After watching the sunset on the boat we disembarked back at camp after and absolutely incredible day of watching wildlife. We sort of messed up, setting such a high bar on our first day in the bush for our friends.

The park is about 45 minutes from Mvuu, so it doesn’t make much sense to do a traditional morning and evening game drive, too much time is taken by going back and forth. This inaccessibility is part what makes this park less visited. Determined to try to get to know the Lower Zambezi better the following day we headed in early for an all day game drive. 

We explored countless tracks through wide open plains, through forests along the river bank and in denser woodlands. Many of the river bank areas having channels that hold water inland from the river with wetlands that have abundant birdlife and wildlife. We saw an endless amount of impala, many warthogs, lots of jumpy elephant, waterbuck, great big herds of buffalo, some bushbuck, but no predators. One of the few other vehicles we ran into had just seen a leopard, but we couldn’t find it. 

Overall we had a really nice day in a park that felt very wild. Some of the tracks were rough and dense, Pete thoroughly enjoyed the 4×4 driving as we ranged around the bush tracks in the wilderness. T4A did not have many of the park tracks that I imagine are seasonal, as much of the area we explored must flood or become a morass of black cotton mud in the rainy season. 

The wildlife seemed skittish, usually bounding away from us as we came into view, whereas our experience is other parks is that wildlife is quite tolerate of vehicles. We wonder if this is due to poaching pressure, or perhaps during covid the lack of tourists has made them lose their previous comfort with vehicles?

That night in camp an elephant came through while we cooked on the fire. Stanley was off by then, not there to supervise us, but we retreated on our own to the cooking area. After spending a little time eating leaves from the tree right over Pete and Melissa’s tent the elephant moved on in not too long a time.

Knowing our plans for the next stretch would be busy we took a rest day in camp. Fixed a couple odds and ends, Pete and Melissa honing their setup in the ground tent, we decanted jerry cans, the camp staff did our laundry, and we jumped in the pool several times to cool off. We’re really roughing it here in Africa.

The plan coming up is to cross Lower Zambezi National Park, exiting to the east. This road did not used to be passable, more used by poachers on foot we are told. But now it has reportedly opened up, if not always passable. We had asked at the gate and they said it was open. This would allow us to not have to backtrack through Lusaka. Also it appeals to me to explore deeper into the park and make a crossing of the park that I have not read much about. On the other hand, since I am the planner on this portion of the trip, I do have some trepidation, having signed the rest of our party up for this more “interesting” route, whether they want to or not. After the crossing we intend to wild camp east of the park, or perhaps make it all the way to Bridge Camp, a normal halfway point between Lusaka and South Luangwa National Park.

After that I am also keen on trying the Petauke Road. This is the back road to Mfuwe and the Luangwa valley. The normal route to South Luangwa is along the Great East Road, the T4, turning Northwest at Chipata. I was hoping to avoid this long and relatively boring drive, taking the Petauke road, only accessible during the dry season. 

Now I sort of feel like the trip is really starting. It is funny, there are a lot of big milestones to kicking off a big trip like this. The last time we walked out of our house. Getting on the plane. Arriving in Windhoek. But meeting up with our friends on this long delayed trip together, and now diving deeper into the bush it feels like we are really starting.

Next time: 

-We Learn the hard way about black cotton soil, getting very stuck deep in the park.

-Crossing the Lower Zambezi National Park

-The Petauke Road and bush camping in the Luangwa Valley

The Nitty Gritty

Katima/Sesheke Border

We were the only one wearing masks, and we went through the paces. Because of covid, first stop is health. The heath officer inspected our PCR tests and filled out our covid medical questionnaire for us, without asking about symptoms, just checking “no” for everything. You take this slip to immigration. 

We had a 3 year multiple entry visa issued in the USA. The price is $100 USD, and as we knew we’d use it at least twice (north bound and south bound) it is at minimum the same cost of the normal $50/ea. Also it saved us some time. The immigration officer was surprised, but after inspecting the visa and the receipt she stamped us in, though only for 30 days instead of 90. She said they are under orders to not offer more than 30 days, even on 90 day visas, and that if we needed longer we could get an extension before our 30 days runs out. We’ll see if that works.

After this you take your health slip, stamped by immigration back to health and they take it. After that, customs. At this point, wanting to speed things along, Jenny and I divided. I took customs, she road tax. This is our first time traveling on a carnet, so I handed it over and the customs officer filled it out, thankfully knowing the drill. It’s incumbent on the carnet owner (us) that it’s filled out correctly, but everything was in order the first time around. 

Jenny had less luck at the road tax desk. The system was down and he had called his supervisor. After some waiting around I went outside and managed to change some money and buy SIM cards from the money changers. 50 kw/ea SIM and air time, 20 kw for 2gigs for a week. Exchange rate is ~ 17kw:1USD. We’ve found the weekly data bundles to be the most economical, though without too much calculating. Cheap enough for us. If you have data left over after you get this first week at 2G you can get the next week at the minimum data amount and the remainder will rollover.

Still waiting for road tax I chatted with the money changers for a while. They were very laid back, not pushy like at lots of places. With no other customers they were happy to chat. Eventually they pointed out that the road tax guy can fill out the paper by hand, he is just too lazy. They told me to go insist that he do it by hand and not wait for the computer. It worked! 20 dollars and a few minutes later we were done. I believe there is also supposed to be carbon tax, which we asked about more than once, but I think in the confusion of the system being down they forgot. 

Last stop is council tax. Drive 100m or so around the corner to the right and they flag you down. Council tax was cheap, I think 50 kw. 

The actual last stop was booth by the gate where they glanced at our paperwork and were waved on. We were through! And no mention of the infamous police clearance. I suspect this is because we were traveling on a carnet, though I didn’t want to ask lest it become an issue. A shame to not get to the bottom of this.

I would say the Katima/Sesheke border post is good and I wouldn’t hesitate to use it again, even though there were a few hiccups this time around.

Livingstone

Insurance

We purchased our required 3rd party insurance online from Phoenix Insurance. This meant at the border we already had the insurance in hand and didn’t have to fuss with the local insurance sales people. Phoenix Insurance has an office in the Falls Park Mall in central Livingstone to allow us to purchase COMESA from them. 

COMESA is 3rd party insurance that is valid through many African countries, including most of East Africa. Having it ahead of time would simplify our logistics for the many border crossings ahead. You could also buy insurance at each border, but it is not always available and you might have to proceed to the next town, turning it into an extended chore. COMESA works as a rider of sorts on top of existing insurance. We decided to buy a year’s worth of insurance for Zambia, price roughly 400 kw (sorry, I forgot to get the precise amount before we threw away the receipt) and then a year’s worth of COMESA for all valid countries. The price for validity over 200 days is the same, so no loss to go all in if you are past that number. You might save some money if you are going to less countries or for less time, the insurance person will have a chart showing the price for whatever combination you require. The year’s worth of COMESA was ~1,300 kw. They were cash only, but in not too long we were sorted, very hassle free. I’d definitely recommend dealing with Phoenix for ease, I believe the prices are fixed between companies, so I don’t think there is any advantage to shopping around. 

Victoria Falls Waterfront Camp

There are about a dozen campsites set fairly close together amongst the trees. The property is within the Mosi-Oa-Tunya National Park, though fenced to discourage visits from elephants. Each site has water, a washing up sink, and theoretically power, though we found many didn’t work. The day we arrived camp had one large group in ground tents and two other vehicles. To my surprise on the second night they were full of private vehicles. Some South African, some europeans with vehicles they owned. 

Ablutions – two blocks that are shared amongst the campers. Cleanliness, lighting and functionality was mediocre. They certainly did the job, but I wasn’t impressed. I wonder if they cut staff during covid and perhaps the facilities suffered a bit? 2.5/5.  There is a large wonderful pool in the shade, very clean.

Food was decent at the restaurant and the view of the river is really nice. A big place and clearly locals come for food and drinks, not just overnight guests. In the future we’ll probably go back to Maramba River Lodge.

Logistics

We shopped at the well stocked Shopright in central Livingstone. Nearby, Heartland’s Best Farm Shop, on iOverlander, also had a good selection of specialty stuff, including a hard to find item in Africa we always keep an eye out for, limes.  

We refilled our water tank from the Nyanjawisi Aqua Mineral Water bottling place west of town on the M10, about $5 to fill our 60 liter tank with very good water. We’re experimenting if we might try this more often.

Mvuu

Excellent Camp in the lower Zambezi area. I believe the closest camping you can get to the park gate, though in the past there used to be a community campsite that was closer, however that is closed. There is a sign at the entrance to the GMA that [undesignated] camping is not allowed in the GMA, unlike some other GMAs. 

Price varies by site, the waterfront sites of Mvuu and Elly being more expensive. All the sites are good really and I would take the inland sites happily, you can walk just 50m to the river whenever you want. Mvuu and Elly sites are relatively expensive, ~$38.50 pppn

We asked at the gate about camping in the park. They said a campsite had been started but is on hold due to lack of funding, same as we were told in 2018. When pressed the gate rangers said you could camp at the gate and enter as soon as they open at 0600. 

Mvuu Boat trip is $44/pp USD

Details on the park and park fees in the next post.

This was really our first proper drive into Zambia, and we were keen to get a feel for a new country and see some of Zambia pass by as we made our way along. At the beginning we didn’t see much, because it was foggy. The main road, the T1, is good out of Livingstone and you could easily drive the 100 kph speed limit, but the road is also being used by bicycles and pedestrians, and passing through villages it was hard to see, so we started out driving slow and taking our time. The sun was backlighting the fog and we got to see some fantastic images of village life highlighted in the fog, but still it made for slow progress.

Eventually the fog cleared, and we swapped drivers so Christian had a little time driving on good tarmac to get a feel for the cruiser and for African driving, looking out for livestock, bicycles, pedestrians and bold overtaking.  Fortunately traffic was light. Not long after we made it to the town of Mazabuka. We had been warned by multiple people that the road would deteriorate drastically after Mazabuka, it was true.

From Mazabuka to the T1/T2 junction the road is terrible. Outside of town the road starts to look like has been hit by mortar attack, with potholes that you can’t see the bottom of, and it deteriorates further in parts to no pavement and just chunks of road bed and little islands of pavement. Traffic starts to back up a bit and everyone begins weaving back and forth across the full width of the road, looking for smooth ground. Seeing a large truck drunkenly swerve directly at you might appear alarming, if you didn’t know that it was all happening at a sedate 15 kph, and everyone seems to make their way back to their side when you need to pass each other, and then each continues their wandering wavy search for smooth passage once passed.

After turning onto the T2 the road becomes beautiful, with just enough potholes to keep you paying attention, and there was almost no traffic at all. We barreled along and descended the escarpment almost 1000m to the Zambezi river valley and arrived at Chirundu, a border town, with Zimbabwe lying across the river.

For other travelers it may be of interest that there is a brand new Shoprite supermarket in Chirundu for provisioning. We fueled up and headed east towards the park. When we left in the morning we weren’t sure where we were going to stay, but it is early season and so bookings are not essential. After some hemming and hawing about driving distances we settled on the Gwabi River Lodge, just 10k or so from Chirundu, on the western side of the game management area (GMA).

 We enjoyed a beer and the sunset on the bar deck and then cooked over the fire and enjoyed our riverside camp.

There are not many options for camping in the area, and she and her husband gave us our choices, with no apparent bias for staying closer to the park, they were great about giving us the lay of the land. We decided we’d leave early in the morning to drive into the GMA and see what game we could see, and then on the way back decide where to camp or to return to Gwabi.

She said that earlier in the week she had seen Lion, elephant, impala and wild dog just on the main road towards the park, all while in the GMA, so we departed optimistically.

It’s about 70 km from Gwabi River Lodge to the park entrance, which Ann said could be done in 2hrs, but there is no way we could have managed that without driving irresponsibly, though I’m sure the guides can do it with knowing the road well. As usual we went slowly, but the first 30 km or so is near perfect freshly graded gravel road, so we had a good start. After that things slow down quite a bit, and the road passes through many villages we slowed for those as well as the worsening road conditions.

These villages were the first simple and more out of the way villages we’ve really driven through on this trip and were interesting to see. People here were clearly poor, but not poverty stricken as we have seen elsewhere. Housing compounds were mostly round boma style mud brick houses with thatch roofs, but also some rectangular more western style small presumably one room houses with corrugated tin roofing. Every place we saw was very tidy, clean and organized, some with plants at the doors of dwellings, all swept clean of leaves and debris, no loose trash lying around, it was obvious that people took pride in their property.

Water comes from manually operated borehole pumps, and we saw gatherings of people at each pump fetching water, universally women and children. We saw women carrying loads on their heads in the traditional African fashion, and one in particular stuck in my mind. She had not one but two buckets of water on her head. Maybe a 3 gallon bucket and stacked on top of that 2 gallon bucket of water, so 5 gallons of water, weighing roughly 35 pounds, and she appeared perfectly at ease, and yet we could see the water sloshing in the buckets. How she could balance with the counteracting forces of two sloshing buckets of water seems impossible to me, but she was doing with no problem, walking gracefully along.

Even though life here is simpler than we are used to in the west, people have smart phones, we saw a couple cars, everyone looks presentable and we were greeted with smile after smile and wave after wave, almost everyone seeming really friendly.

There were small farm plots and numerous tidy gardens, and we saw heaps drying vegetables, what we think were cassava and maize, but I’m not sure.

Eventually we made our way deeper in the GMA and started seeing impala, warthog and a few elephant. We wandered our way along the road all the way to park gate, which requires a modest river crossing to get to. For this time of year water was about rim height with a river rock bottom, no problem for the cruiser and probably good to rinse some of the sand and grit from the brakes.

The ranger post was spartan, a basic two room wood house. The front room had a few sacks of cement, a desk, chair and MF radio and thats about it. The rangers seemed surprised to see us, and from the front room you could see into the back room that there was some simple wire single beds in the back, so not only were they checking people through the gate but they also lived in this building.

The park was enticing. Wikipedia says that the park is only accessible by fly in visitors, which isn’t true, we were keen to prove the internet wrong. However by this time it was already afternoon, and we didn’t want to fork over the more than $100 USD fee for all off us to enter the park for the day. So we chatted with the rangers at the gate and decided to head back through the GMA to Mvuu lodge to camp for the night.

On we took a few side roads on the way back, in no hurry, and continued to see similar game as on the road in. At one point we saw about 5 elephant making pretty good time headed inland, and when they crossed the road behind us we saw a baby elephant with a pretty bad leg wound limping between the adults. It’s not our area of expertise, but it did not look like a laceration from a predator attack, it was thin and horizontal around the ankle. Later we talked to one of the guides at Mvuu and he thought that the elephant could have been trapped in a poacher’s snare, who are targeting antelope for bush meat, but of course a snare catches whatever crosses it’s path.

About 2 km east of Mvuu, after a long day of vigilance looking as deep into the bush as we could and systematically scanning the underbrush we saw a leopard right in the road about 50 meters ahead. It was on a impala kill, fresh enough that the impala was still twitching. We could hardly believe our eyes. Leopards are the most elusive of the large cats, allegedly doing their hunting at night and remaining out of sight during the day, they are hard to spot and typically only seen very early in the morning or shortly before sunset. But here we were, 3 in the afternoon watching the rare sight of a leopard on a kill, not even in a park and not needing to pay any fees to be in the game management area. Fantastic.

He stared us down for a minute and decided to move off the road. Without any apparent effort he clamped his jaws over the neck of the impala and quietly drug it into the bush off the road. We moved forward and found that he had settled on a spot only 20 feet off the road, but camouflaged behind some brush. We could see him and his penetrating stare only because we had seen him move there. In fact, a safari vehicle headed to one of the lodges blew right by us while we were watching him and took no notice. No doubt we too have driven by many an interesting animal just off the road that we didn’t see.

After a few minutes of me frantically trying to get the camera to focus through the brush and of watching the leopard he decided he’d had enough attention and he vanished, impala in tow, into the brush.

At this point Christian was pretty blown away. Keep in mind this was his first day ever of game viewing and without entering the park he’d seen leopard, hippos, elephant, impala, warthog, numerous birds. On top of this a modest river crossing to get to the park gate and some decently rough roads, all adding to the “out there” feel. It was a great beginning for our time in Zambia, which would continue to deliver smiles, a welcoming feel and great wildlife and wilderness.

We retired to Mvuu for cold drinks on the deck over the river for sunset, all while being serenaded by the call of hippos. We camped for two nights and forwent the morning game drive and instead had a luxurious slow morning in camp, coffee and a real breakfast and lounging around.

Sure enough, there was an elephant in camp hanging out by our ablutions, about 100’ from the cruiser. Now being in the proximity of such a great animal is cool, but also dangerous. Normally viewed from a vehicle you are quite safe, in the even of a charge, which is not the usual response, you can drive away. But on foot things are different, so caution is advised, to say the least.

Drag the slider to compare high and low water levels.  Photo 1: The falls in the low season, November 2013: Photo 2: The falls in May 2018
 
After continuing along the bridge we made our way through Zimbabwe customs, a bit hectic but only 20 minutes or so and we found ourselves in another country, just like that. 
 
Zimbabwe is a fascinating country, and the town of Victoria Falls, is one of the longest visited tourist attractions in Zimbabwe, with people coming to see it not long after it’s “discovery” by the first European to set eyes on it, David Livingstone.
 
Zimbabwe’s longtime ruler Robert Mugabe, president since 1981, has just been deposed last fall and a new man, Emmerson Mnangagwa, from the same party and one of Mugabe’s old henchmen, is in charge. Zimbabweans and Africans are holding their breath a bit to see if change is in the air, or if he will be just the same with a different name. We weren’t able to talk to any Zimbabweans about this, but in South Africa many seem skeptical, but to me it almost seemed self protective, to insure against hope being squashed again, and there is a quiet underlying sense of optimism about the future.
 
Another ½ km or so past the border and we found ourselves at the entrance to the park for Vic Falls. Entry is $30 USD pp for Americans (less for SADC members or Zimbabweans), which seems steep, but considering that Vic Falls is a one of a kind is well worth the price of admission. There is a decent curio shop, small cafe and restrooms near the front of the park. After that it is on to the falls.
 
Depending on which portion you are along the falls are about about 100m high, and are a staggering 1.7km wide. So they are not he tallest falls, but with these dimensions and water continuously hurling itself into the chasm it is hard to fathom the scope of what we were witnessing. It’s also completely impossible to see it all at once from the park, as the spray is so thick and so high that at this time of year it obscures the view of the whole falls from any one point.
 
There is a thriving helicopter tourism business going as from the air is really the only way to take in the sight of the whole falls at once, but they are so successful that all of the town of Vic Falls and the parks on both sides is perpetually subject to the whine and throb of helicopter and ultralight engines, which becomes annoying after a while.
 
As we walked closer to the falls the vegetation becomes denser and greener and there is a mini rainforest that has developed along the edge of the falls, fed by the continual blanket of spray. The spray also continuously showered us. In the beginning it starts like a wet fog, then a fine spray. We got our first view of the western edge of the falls and it is a heart stopping wonder to behold, and we had seen it before. Christian had gone to the Zambian side the day before and was very impressed, already thinking that the view from this side was much better.
 
As we went along the face of the falls to each viewpoint we became subsequently wetter. The fine mist became spray, then spray became rain. Then the rain came from all directions, from up and down and sideways, as the huge volume of water drives swirls of air out of the gorge. At one point the spray is driving up at you from below, like a shower head pointed up, and after that we got so wet it was comical. At the various viewpoints sometimes we had a good view and sometimes it was such a wall of spray that you cannot see anything, not even the edge a few meters away, like being drenched with a fire hose.
 
We were laughing as we went along, as we couldn’t have been more wet if we’d jumped in a lake, so we squished along in our shoes and wrung out our shirts and laughed and enjoyed the spectacle. There were not many other tourists, and some were in a partially effective rain coats, getting wet with their sweat in the humid conditions instead of the spray from the falls, and others just as wet as us.

Thoroughly soaked we were ready for a bite to eat and to sit down, so we thought we’d attempt to have lunch at the Victoria Falls Hotel. The Vic Falls Hotel is an institution, the oldest hotel in the area, and with deep colonial roots has been visited by the Queen, other royalty, heads of state and no doubt an endless list of celebrities. It’s upmarket but also old fashioned, so not the chic eco chalets you can find throughout safari destinations. A colonial outpost in the very west of Zimbabwe in Victorian style. With it being so classy and us being dressed in now soaking wet t-shirts and shorts we weren’t sure they’d let us in, but it seemed worth a shot. No one gave us a passing glance, no doubt in part due to our white skin, a somewhat uncomfortable privilege. The sprawling lawn was before us, and behind that the Victoria Falls Bridge, the perpetual rainbow from the spray and the huge tower of mist above the falls were all visible as we sat on the verandah in front of the hotel, and we had one of the best gin and tonics I’ve ever had (Botanist gin, Fitch and Leeds tonic, with lime and a thyme spring, but perhaps it was just the setting?). Spectacular. Lunch was excellent, and expensive, and we finished with a similarly wonderful coffee. Feeling rested and fortified we headed off on our walk back across the border.

There is a trail from the Vic Falls Hotel towards the falls and the border, and when Jenny and I had been here before 5 years ago a security guard from the hotel had escorted us along the trail, to shoe off hawkers and provide security. On that walk, about half way down the trail we came around a corner and he said “Elephant. Run!” I didn’t see it at first, and responded “What?” Looking around, I spotted the elephant at the side of the trail about 10 meters from us behind a bush, and the guard had already run into the bush, leaving us behind. So much for security! But it was good motivator, and Jenny and I dashed after him and the three of us hid behind a bush as the guard told us that “This one is an angry one.” We waited a few minutes and a local came coasting down the trail on his bicycle and the guard shouted out a warning, in the local language so we don’t know exactly what he said, but judging from the cyclists reaction it must have been something along the lines of “Lookout dumbass, you’re about to be killed by an elephant!” With a surprised look on his face the cyclist promptly crashed his bicycle, left it in the trail and ran for cover to hide with us behind the bush. It seems the locals have a fear of elephants, and this is justified. We learned that within the last year where we are camping a security guard had been killed by an elephant on the way to work, and in a separate event two tourists had also been killed, probably by the same elephant. I write this in no way to reflect poorly on Maramba River Lodge, but to illustrate that these animals are indeed wild and need to be accorded respect and caution, and also to show again the difficulty of coexisting in an area where wild animals are so prevalent. We enjoy this un-sanitized arrangement where we need to be responsible for ourselves, and we certainly don’t want wild animals to be culled on our behalf. For our part we’re prepared to be alert for their presence and to retreat to our vehicle or behind the closest handy tree to give them their space. I should also note that most elephants are peacefully munching on vegetation, not attacking people, but occasionally an angry old bull or a mother protecting her young will act aggressively. This normally results in people retreating, accomplishing the elephants goal, but on occasion there is a more violent outcome. This time our walk down the trail yielded no elephant, and we made our way towards the border. Along the way a hawker joined us trying to sell trinkets. He introduced himself has Tomato (pronounced “toh-mah-to”) and proceeded to give us the hard sell, dropping his prices the closer we got to the border. It became tiresome and he was incessantly patient in hearing our refusals and persistent in continuing his offers. For about the seventh time I made another refusal to buy, saying something along the lines of “Look Tomato (foolishly pronouncing it in the American way, To-may-to) we aren’t buying anything” and he laughed hysterically, “My name isn’t To-may-to, it’s Toh-mah-to” again, laughing at my foolish error. It was pretty funny, and it took him awhile to get over this, and he kept giggling about it, but he then returned to his hard sell. Finally he gave up and attacked another group of tourists, and we were free. Border formalities on the return were swift, there was no one else there, and at the end of our trek our vehicle was where we left it, unmolested. We retreated to our campsite at Maramba River Lodge and planned our next leg, to the Lower Zambezi National Park and surrounds.  Logistical Notes: -Livingstone Guest House – Christian stayed at the Green Tree Lodge in Livingstone before meeting up with us, host’s name was Andrew. He was extremely knowledgeable and helpful, and a fantastic cook. Restaurant at the lodge was fantastic, including home made desert pastries. Bungalows were ~$80 USD per night, great low key place if you need a guest house. -Camping – we stayed at the Maramba River Lodge, between Livingstone and the Falls. Great place, icy cold beers and a nice campsite right on the river. Good food though the menu was not all available. Camping was $15 pp/pn, I think. Firewood was extra, but reasonable. Power point and lights at the campsite. Ablutions were a bit of a walk, but clean and nice w/ hot water showers. -Nico Insurance in downtown Livingstone was able to sell us COMESA, which may or may not actually cover us as a South African registered vehicle. This insurance business is messy and still a little uncertain, but here is what I know:-We have primary comprehensive coverage for the vehicle through TuffStuff/Ream Insurance in South Africa.-We are still required to purchase 3rd party liability in countries other than South Africa, though as I understand it in Namibia this is covered via a fuel surcharge, so is not an issue there.-In Botswana 3rd party insurance is paid at customs and is easy.-At the Kazungula border on the Zam side we bought 3rd party insurance, at the fixed price of 162 kw from an insurance company that I’ve forgotten the name of. They said they could provide COMESA as well, but after finishing most of the paperwork they made a call and said they no longer sell it to South African vehicles. This was somewhat annoying, the bait and switch, but I had read that it may be the case that SA registered vehicles cannot be covered by COMESA, so perhaps that was proving to be true.-We went to Nico insurance in Livingstone and they would sell us COMESA, but only as a sort of “rider” on their own 3rd party insurance. This meant that if we wanted the COMESA coverage we would need to purchase 3rd party cover a second time. I was concerned about finding insurance in future countries, and so it seemed worth the extra cash now to avoid hassle in the future, and also reportedly COMESA is very common in the rest of East Africa and thus police officers are expecting to see it, so we hoped this would speed our passage through any checkpoints.-COMESA coverage is based on duration and number of countries covered, so we paid for “3+” countries to maintain flexibility for 60 days of coverage, coming out to 330 kw (roughly $33 USD).

The Ferry Crossing