We had our Toyota Hilux bush camper for 45 days and in that time logged a total of 7,848 kms, burned 853 +/- litres of diesel and camped 29 days.
The roads varied from excellent tar (asphalt) to deep sand to gravel to incredibly pothole-ridden.
Toll roads are common in South Africa and Zambia although it often seemed in Zambia that if a toll was coming up then after the toll the roads would turn to shit. It was quite consistent this way in Zambia and in some towns where the roads all of a sudden became good you had to wonder why.
They would only be good for a short distance before and after the town. We often commented that “this town obviously voted for the government in power” and this could very well be the case.
The worst pothole-ridden roads were in Zambia. They were bad, very bad!
Another irritant was the use of speed bumps combined with the lack of warning signs about the upcoming speed bumps. They came out of nowhere and in many cases there didn’t seem to be a reason for them.
We would be travelling at 100 km/hr and then bam! A speed bump or several rows of bumps. Often they weren’t too big but you just never knew because sometimes they were big enough to rip off the bottom of your car if you didn’t have at least 6 feet of clearance. A slight exaggeration but not by much.
Speed limit signs in Zambia were few and far between so you really didn’t know most of the time what the limit was. And when they were posted it was quite comical because you would hit a speed bump then see a sign to slow to 60 km/hr then proceed over several more bumps then see a sign that would say 100 km/hr and then just as you hit 100 another sign would say 40 and then another speed bump.
They love their speed bumps in Zambia.
They also love their Police road blocks. We encountered countless road blocks. We were never sure what they were looking for and we would generally say hello, how are you, the Police would say hello, where are you going or where did you come from and we would be on our way. Except once.
While driving through a narrow tree lined sand and bush trail in Liuwa Plains National Park, crashing side to side, a tree smashed the driver’s side view mirror of our truck.
So, now we are driving with a damaged vehicle.
We were stopped by the police a couple of times and at one stop we were asked why is the mirror pushed into its closed position? I replied, because it is broken. He paused and then waved us on.
Now, in Zambia if you have any encounter with a tree or whatever and you damage your vehicle you’re supposed to stop at the next Police station and report it. Of course we didn’t know this and the Policeman who asked us about our mirror and let us go in the first place didn’t tell us so how the heck are you supposed to know I wondered other than studying the countries road rules-and-regulations handbook if one actually exists.
When we departed Mana Pools NP in Zimbabwe, where the small sampling of the roads we did indicated to us they were probably on par with Zambian roads, we re-entered Zambia and within kms we hit a road block.
“What’s with the side view mirror” we were asked. It’s broken I replied. Just broke it in Mana Pools. A small white lie. ” No, I didn’t know I had to report this to the Police and besides, we just came out of the wilds and now we’re heading back to Botswana where they probably don’t give a crap.
“Well, there was a Police station in Chirundu where you crossed the border, you should have reported there”. Yes, but I didn’t know I needed to report it. Where I come from you don’t need to report every scratch and dent to the police. It’s none of their god damned business!
“Pull over there please and follow me” so I park the truck, cross the road and am led to a police car. A woman cop is in the passenger side. She looks at her colleague, he says”broken mirror”, she says did you report it to the police blah, blah, blah.
She was the main cop, judge and jury and I was fined 300 Kwacha, the equivalent of about $30 CAD and was told I now have a free pass to use for any further road blocks where they may actually give a damn about our mirror.
We didn’t hit another road block for the rest of our journey through and out of Zambia but I have a great souvenir.
