The day after we arrived, September 6th, Joyce and I were able to get some Ariary (Madagascar cash) from a nearby ATM. At Ivato airport, there are two ATMs, and both were out of order upon our arrival. The exchange rate offered at the currency exchange desks was pitiful, so we crossed our fingers that we could find a bank the next day. In the afternoon, we had our truck delivered and were enjoying a beverage on the terrace when we heard a very loud commotion not far from our B&B. We walked out our gate and onto a small road just metres away, where we witnessed an extraordinary event that typically only happens once every seven years: “Famadihana.” The following description is from Wikipedia.
“Famadihana is a funerary tradition of the Malagasy people in Madagascar. During this ceremony, known as the turning of the bones, people bring forth the bodies of their ancestors from the family crypts, rewrap the corpses in fresh cloth and rewrite their names on the cloth so they will always be remembered. Then they dance to live music while carrying the corpses over their heads and go around the tomb before returning the corpses to the family tomb.”
We departed Johannesburg on September 5th for a short three-hour flight to Madagascar, landing in the capital city of Antananarivo.
We have a Nissan double-cab 4×4 rented for five weeks, equipped with camping gear and a small electric refrigerator in the back.
Although we’ll be staying at lodges throughout our driving journey we have the camping gear for any “just in case” situations.
Below is our driving route with the blue-coloured portion indicating our flight to the north. After five weeks we’ll hop a plane from “Tana” and head to the northwest for some much-anticipated beach time.
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.
Self-driving, in our opinion is the best way to see the real Africa, or any country for that matter. Tour groups or overlander trucks don’t take the side roads and stick primarily to the more crowded and popular campsites, the ones with a pool and communal cooking and washing facilities.
They do see some great places but they don’t require a 4×4 so they don’t see some of the many little villages scattered along a sand or gravel road. Thatched huts, children and women carrying water or firewood on their heads, goat and cattle herders and the wonderful sight of people getting by in their environment with very little.
Some of these villages have probably been this way forever. Others were more developed and we were happy to see many primary schools dotted throughout. Not many secondary schools though so education for many is probably to a grade 6 level. Education isn’t free so this creates a challenge for many.
We spent most of our time in Zambia so I’ll continue with the narrative as Zambia was the highlight of our trip.
Tomatoes and potatoes seem to be the crop that is sold along the roads in the villages this time of year. Everyone sells tomatoes or potatoes with a sprinkling of onions and corn/maize. Outside of the towns and villages the sides of the roads are dotted with large bundled and wrapped charcoal firewood.
This has been outlawed in Zimbabwe but is still legal in Zambia which unfortunately is adding to the destruction of their forests. This is the primary source of heat and cooking fuel and we honestly don’t know what the people would use otherwise. The country has a long way to go in solving this dilemma.
The cost of living is low in Zambia, expensive in Botswana and quite reasonable in South Africa and the wages reflect this although we found a disconnect in Botswana. The minimum wage in Zambia is 1,500 kwacha/month, about $150 CAD. Food is cheap as is beer and other sinful indulgences which we’re sure someone on minimum wage does not enjoy.
A meal at a restaurant in a small town is about $4 CAD and can easily be shared by two people. 50. The most I paid for a beer was about $3 CAD and this was at the Royal Zambezi Lodge. 40 for a 12 hour shift. He took home after 24 days about $200 CAD!
We met many young people who had dreams of being a doctor or teacher or just wanted the ability to continue their education but the roadblocks (no pun intended) seem insurmountable. The human potential in this small part of a great 55-country-strong continent is incredible but, the government corruption to this day is alive and well and has a stranglehold on the people who want and DESERVE a brighter future.
The land is blessed with fertile soils, minerals and desire. Technology is making its way into the daily lives of the people. Cell phone rates are cheap and there is a whole new cell phone cash transaction industry developing to allow small business and entrepreneurs to sidetrack the bureaucratic red tape that is so embedded into their daily lives. Enough said.
Our truck was fantastic. It handled the deep sand roads/trails beautifully. While in Botswana we met a couple from Britain who lived in Zambia and we told them we were going to Liuwa Plain NP and then on to Kafue NP. First he rightly explained the hassle we would encounter entering Zambia from Botswana via the Kazungula border crossing.
He was 100% correct and he then continued to tell us about the horrors we would encounter in what I thought was Kafue NP. Be prepared for your truck to overheat driving in low gear in the sand. The “deep” sand, Have a contingency plan”.
We actually thought he was talking about Kafue NP because I mentioned the two places in one sentence so we were extremely apprehensive and after leaving the deep sand of Liuwa we arrived in Kafue. It was a walk in the park. I really don’t understand where people get off giving you horror stories about a place.
A simple ” the sand is deep, be prepared” should be all he said. Inside of me I had a deep anxiety about what to expect in Kafue and then it dawned on me he was talking about Liuwa. What a dick!
GPS versus good old maps….
When we last drove through South Africa, Namibia and Botswana we used maps. Actually Google Maps for SA and real live paper maps for Namibia and Botswana. I think we only got lost once in SA. We were told not to rely on GPS as it would probably get you lost and I can attest here and now that “they” were 100% correct.
When you use a map you can see the broader picture, where you are in relation to towns, roads, villages etc. A GPS shows you your spot in time with no relationship to your broader perspective. You trust the GPS and you don’t really know if it is giving you a short-cut, a best road option or what.
It doesn’t know how you want to get to your destination, only what roads it has in its map memory and whether there is a fence or not or whatever. There is a road so therefore it must be traversable.
In cities GPS is generally good but the first day we picked up the truck in Joburg we entered our lodge name and followed the GPS directions. As we neared the general vicinity of our lodge it kept telling us to turn left and we would be at our destination.
It wasn’t our destination so finally we used Google Maps and we found our place immediately. These little instances leave a very huge doubt about their accuracy in the back of your mind. We were never 100% confident in our GPS directions so our advice is to carry maps at all times and be prepared for the inevitable.
Leave plenty of time to reach your next destination because you really don’t want to be driving at night.
Self-driving independently through Africa is a great experience. We promised our granddaughter we would bring her to Africa when she turns 16. That’s 5 years from now but we have a feeling we’ll be back sooner.
For our last day in South Africa, we arranged a tour of Soweto. Soweto is short for South Western Townships and was the scene of the 1976 student uprising, where students were protesting the introduction of Afrikaans as the language medium of institutions.
The number killed isn’t clear, but between 176 and 700 people were slaughtered by the Apartheid police forces. The population of Soweto is approximately 5 million, packed into an area of about 106 sq. km, although the last census put the population at 1.3 million. Johannesburg has a similar population and an area larger than 500 sq. km. Soweto is home to two Nobel Prize winners, Dr. Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu.
We visited the good, the bad and the ugly. Poverty is still endemic, and the youth unemployment rate runs close to 70%. Shantytown areas still exist side by side with nice brick homes built in the ’80s.
The bad
The good
Soweto was created in the 1930s when the white government started separating Blacks from Whites. The original settlements were born out of the area in 1886 when gold was discovered. The history of this area is both fascinating and sad, as the era of Apartheid took hold, families’ homes were destroyed and the Black population was relocated to make way for Whites.
Gold miners derriks from the early 1900’s
Typical street food stalls
We visited Nelson Mandela’s home; Walter Sisulu Square, where, in 1955, the Congress of the People met to draw up the Freedom Charter, an alternative vision to the repressive policies of the apartheid state; and the site of the murder of 13-year-old Hector Pieterson, who became the icon of the Soweto uprising.
In remembrance of these events, June 16 is now a public holiday in South Africa named Youth Day.
This was a sad period in the history of SA, but it was the start of the eventual dismantling of the horrible regime of apartheid, the release of Nelson Mandela and the eventual free and fair elections held April 24, 1994, which changed the history of South Africa.
There is so much more to write about on this subject, so I urge anyone who is interested to dig into the details and discover the struggles the Black people have faced and, 25 years later, still face under the corruption of their government.
Exclusionary financial and economic policies still persist and will continue under neo-liberal systems that were created to suit the needs of Europe but are implemented in Africa, which is entirely different. They do not work in favour of local communities or understand how local communities operate. The African agenda must be considered, and policies need to change.
Far too many are trapped in poverty and unemployment, and the communities will continue to suffer at the hands of the system until a true economic transformation happens.
Soweto is the epicentre of the movement that changed the history of this incredible country. It was a moving experience that opened our eyes to the struggles of the past and the struggles that exist to this day.
We departed Zambia on September 2nd after some great adventures. We gassed up and headed out from Livingstone for a one-night pit stop at Nata Lodge in Botswana and a final two-night pit stop at Mopane Bush Lodge, located in the Mapesu Private Game Reserve in northern South Africa.
The drive from Nata was supposed to take about seven hours. If only we knew what was in store.
I plotted our course using Google Maps, and it showed what I thought was the most reasonable route. We had covered some of the same roads heading up into Botswana, so it made sense to do a little backtracking. Sure, there would be some gravel roads, but I prefer this to pothole-filled roads.
The journey would take about seven hours. We would re-cross the Pont Drift border crossing into South Africa, and then it would be a short drive to our lodge.
Our GPS had a different route, which would take us through Martin’s Drift border crossing. The route was a little farther and a roundabout way to go, but the roads would be paved and therefore—and therefore what? I’m not sure.
We have had many issues with our Garmin GPS, but for some reason, we decided to trust it this time. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a mistake.
We hit Martin’s Drift crossing at 1:00 pm, a five-hour drive so far. Not seeing any traffic on the way, we expected a quick crossing into South Africa. Us and 500 other people, cars and semi-trailers were probably expecting the same thing!
An hour later, we were off and running. Our GPS showed an arrival time of 5:20 pm. My calculation was 5:00 pm at the latest.
We proceeded down some very out-of-the-way side roads, mostly good until we hit the potholes. The goddamned potholes! I thought we were done with this.
We followed the R572 to the R521, turned right, then headed east and onto the R522 or 23 or some number, then the N1 until, finally, our GPS indicated a left turn with only about an hour left to go. Finally!
The turnoff had a couple of signs. None of them indicated Mopane Bush Lodge. This should have been a warning, but we trusted our GPS and shouldn’t have.
We drove and drove and finally hit a curve in the road. Our GPS said go straight. There was a road that went straight, but it was blocked by a large gate. There was no one in sight, and there were no signs. That was an ominous sign.
Below is what Google Maps suggested as a route and the one I figured would be best!
Below is what our Garmin GPS suggested.
After we hit the curve in the road, backed up and confirmed we couldn’t proceed as directed, we figured we had no choice but to continue on. Our GPS showed us travelling in a large circle. The road became more unfriendly, and there was not a soul in sight. We had no choice but to continue driving, hoping for a miracle.
Finally, we saw someone up ahead, so we asked if he knew Mopane Bush Lodge. He didn’t, but fortunately, another vehicle was approaching. We flagged them down, explained our GPS had us going around in what looked like circles, and we had a laugh—ha ha ha.
They thought they had heard of the lodge. They thought it was near the town of Musina and, yes, there was a tar road only a kilometre or two away. Great, the sun was getting low, but at least we would be in a semi-civilized area. What we had passed along this road so far were the backsides of game farms and hunting concessions.
We hit the main highway, the N1. The N1? That was the road we had originally turned off on our way to “the lodge.”
We stopped and pondered our situation as the sun slowly set over the horizon. Let’s try re-entering the damn lodge into the GPS.
We did, and this time it showed us driving north on the N1 to Musina, about 60 km away, turning left onto the R521, driving another 63 km and voilà, we would be at Mopane. Okay, let’s do it.
As we were driving, we passed the road to nowhere that we were originally told to turn left onto. That was about 30 km before Musina, so we had no idea how many extra kilometres we had driven just to get back to our first point of no return.
It was dusk, and small bugs started splattering on the windshield, making for a not-so-good driving and viewing experience, when all of a sudden, we heard a noise, a crash, a thump. Now what?
I looked in my side-view mirror—the only one I had left due to an encounter with a tree at Liuwa Plain NP—and saw our table bouncing and crashing onto the highway.
Another “Oh no! Hari Kari” moment. We were so fortunate this didn’t happen on a busy road or highway. I backed up, whimpering under my breath so as not to upset my princess navigator, bent the table legs back into place, opened the back of the truck and barely got the thing to fit inside.
Onward we went until we hit the main intersection in Musina. Our GPS told us to turn left, proceed 63 km and all of our dreams would come true. We sat at the intersection with our hazard lights blinking.
Do we trust our GPS? Nope.
We were able to flag down a car and ask if he knew Mopane Bush Lodge. He did! Our GPS was correct, so I started driving—and then the potholes. All we needed was a flat tire now.
My eyes are not the best for driving at night, so we took our time, the GPS counting down our arrival time: 55 minutes (damn), 45, 30, 10—and then the sign! Hallelujah!
Of course, the whole time, we were worried the gate would be closed and we would end up camping at the entrance. We turned onto the gravel road and proceeded, and in the distance…a locked gate!
In my mind, I was thinking I could honk the horn, flash the lights, maybe drain some fuel from the tank and make an IED that might get their attention. Fortunately, we spotted a small glowing light emanating from a post near the gate.
An intercom! Manna from heaven, communication to the other side—but would there be anyone on the other side?
I pushed the button. It rang and rang and rang, and then stopped. Aren’t they waiting for us? Did they think we changed our plans? Stop crying!
The intercom crackled again, and then, like God’s voice talking down to Moses, a “hello”—and the gate slowly opened. Eleven hours after departing Nata Camp, we had arrived.
Below is our actual route. I couldn’t find the rogue road we were told to turn onto, so I’m just guessing, but it’s close.
Mopane Bush Lodge was a nice spot for a pit stop, but in hindsight, well, who the hell knows! We were literally kilometres away from where we camped at Mapungubwe NP when we were heading north into Botswana.
We spent the next day relaxing. They had great Wi-Fi, so we were able to update the blog. The staff were friendly and attentive, and we had a nice bungalow far away from the madding crowd.
For the past eight years, the lodge has been operating as a place to do safaris, either in the private reserve or at the nearby World Heritage Site, Mapungubwe National Park.
Previously, the lodge operated as a hunting lodge, so the animals in the reserve are still quite skittish. We opted to relax, hang around and update the blog.
One of the guides at the lodge specializes in snakes, spiders and scorpions, so he did a little show-and-tell for us with a scorpion he happened to have on hand.
All in all, it was a nice stay but a bit expensive for what was offered.
We departed Mana Pools on the 26th, had an easier crossing back into Zambia and proceeded to our next pit stop at the Golden Pillow Lodge in Monze to break the long 10-plus-hour drive to Livingstone.
It was comfortable and the pub next door sold 750 ml bottles of Carling Black Label for the equivalent of $1.50 CAD. I was happy.
We proceeded to Livingstone the next day where we stayed at the Victoria Falls Waterfront Lodge.
We had stayed at this lodge almost two years to the day back in 2017. Joyce was very ill and I basically hung around during the day and then hung around the bar during the evening.
The lodge is located on the Upper Zambezi River and has nice accommodation ranging from camping to “luxury bungalows”. We paid a few extra dollars and stayed in a nice unit facing the river.
The food is very good and the outdoor bar is very busy with locals and the younger crowd who are here for whitewater rafting. It is a place we would recommend for a couple of nights’ stay on your way to/from Chobe NP in Botswana or the parks in Zambia.
A highlight of our stay was meeting Linda (again). She was serving us our lunch and I looked at her, she looked familiar so I asked how long she had worked at the lodge. Three years.
I told her we had been at the lodge two years ago and mentioned Joyce being sick the whole time. She immediately remembered us and me, the lonely soul who yes, I am married and my wife is sick back at the bungalow and that’s why I’m standing here drinking beer all alone! It was great to see her again.
This time Joyce wasn’t sick but, as she is an insect attractor, she was attacked by a bee while we were having lunch. It stung her on her upper lip and for the rest of our stay she walked around looking like an example of a very bad Botox job.
We left luxury, an amazing staff, and a stay at the Royal Zambezi Lodge.
We were faced with yet another boondoggle of red tape, white ledgers, “agents” purporting to represent our truck rental company and a lack of a “police clearance letter” for our vehicle.
When we crossed into Zambia at the Kazungula crossing, we were, we thought, prepared for what was to come at the Zimbabwe crossing.
Kazungula was nuts. What could be worse?
We had spoken to several locals in Zambia and were told crossing into Zimbabwe was a snap.
To get to the Zimbabwe border, you cross at the Chirundu Bridge crossing, which crosses the Zambezi River. We were not really surprised at what was to come.
It was the same disorganized chaos. We don’t understand why there isn’t a coherent system. It would be so simple. First, get the departing country customs stamp, in this case Zambia. Second, Zimbabwe customs and visa payment.
Then there should be a simple number system.
#1, carbon tax forms and payment. #2, Temporary Import Permit. #3, INTERPOL vehicle clearance. #4, I don’t know if there was a number 4; there definitely was entering Zambia, but at the end of the process you need your gate exit card.
This gets you into the country, so it is very important. If you haven’t filled out all of the forms and paid all of the fees, you have to figure out what part of the puzzle is missing before you can get your sacred card.
Entering Zimbabwe, we didn’t have a police clearance letter. We didn’t have this for Zambia either, but it didn’t seem to be a problem.
However, we did have a possible, actual Bushlore rep who hung around the border crossing and did charge for his services but helped us cross into Zambia, so maybe he was able to pull some strings with the clearance letter BS.
According to our Zimbabwe “agent,” the lack of a police clearance letter was a problem, but it wouldn’t be a problem if we paid a 400 kwacha ($40.00 CAD) bribe. So we did.
Someone made money, probably our agent, but regardless, we got the clearance. I think we got ripped off, but it is what it is.
We couldn’t get a dual-entry visa for Zimbabwe. Single-entry cost $150 US for two. “Reciprocal rules,” we were told. Zimbabweans can’t get a dual entry into Canada, so why should Canadians get one for Zimbabwe? Fair enough.
Road tax, this tax, that tax—all added up to $383.00 USD! Jesus!
We eventually made it through, counted our money and had few US dollars left, so decided there and then that we would not proceed with our other Zimbabwe plans.
(a) It cost too much to re-enter, and especially (b) it was way too much hassle.
Our plan was to leave Mana Pools in Zimbabwe, head back to Zambia and then re-enter Zimbabwe later from Botswana. We were only going to spend two more nights in Zimbabwe, this time in Hwange NP, but the logistics, cost and hassle involved made us decide it probably wasn’t worth it.
If you want tourists to come to your country with hard-to-come-by foreign currency, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!
We expect hassle and red tape, and really enjoy these challenges, so maybe this is what makes Africa and many other places unique. Maybe if it was easy and hassle-free to cross borders, some of the adventure would be lost. Maybe it shouldn’t change. Food for thought.
Walking across the border is simple and hassle-free. Driving a vehicle across the border is a whole different story.
Mana Pools was fantastic aside from a big mix-up with our campsite reservations, care of Bushlore truck rentals and the side company they use to make accommodation and camping reservations.
We were supposed to have secured sites at Mucheni Camp for two nights and Chitake Camp for two nights.
If you have followed our blog, you will know of a previous hassle we encountered on our pit stop in Mongu before heading to Kafue NP, care of the same company who made our Mana reservations, so we were a little disappointed once again.
We departed the Royal Zambezi on the 22nd for what turned out to be a much longer than expected journey.
The road from the RZL ends up at the junction in Chirundu where you either head south to cross into Zimbabwe or continue to stay in Zambia.
Before crossing into Zimbabwe, we stopped in Chirundu, Zambia, and loaded up on food and beer and wine at the newly opened Shoprite. Loaded up, we went back to our truck and organized all of the stuff in order of importance.
Two bags of ice on top of the 36 beers in the cooler, two bags of ice that we can fit into the top of the 40-litre fridge, and all of the food we’ll need refrigerated. It all fit perfectly.
With the expensive help and lots of confusion from our “Bushlore agent,” we cleared Zimbabwe customs and drove 40 km to the Nyakasikana Gate into Mana Pools NP, where we were stopped at the entry gate and asked for our park entry form.
“What park entry form?” we asked. “The form that you fill out at the park office just as you leave the customs area at the border,” she replied. “What park office at the border?” I asked. Maybe that was step #4.
So now we think we have to drive all the way back to the border, so I ask if we can fill out the form here, at the park gate, like any other park gate in the world?
No, you can’t, but you can drive another 7 km over the escarpment on the world’s most shitty pothole-ridden road and get a permit at the park office located just after the cratered, pothole-ridden road that created a crashed-semi truck cemetery along the road.
I kid you not. It was an amazing sight and reminded us of the road from Lusaka south to Chirundu where crashed trucks of all sizes littered the steep corners on the hills leading down to Chirundu.
Off we go, driving 5 km/hr behind a tanker truck labeled “ACID.” Great. I could use some acid by this time.
But we got our form, headed back to the gate and proceeded to drive 35 km on what can only be described as a battlefield excuse for a graded gravel road.
An hour plus later we reached the second gate. Once I collected all of my teeth, I presented our park permit and then proceeded another 40 km on what was actually a nice semi-sandy/gravel and generally smooth road.
Time was ticking and we finally reached the main warden’s office where we had to check in and get directions to our “new” and unknown site named “New Ndungu Camp #1.”
And by the way, what happened to our Chitake reservation? We were told we didn’t have a Chitake reservation!
We were told New Ndungu was about 8 or 9 km and then we would see a sign that says “private, no entry.” Ignore the sign and proceed, we were told. This will take us to our camp.
It didn’t. It took us to a lodge, quite a nice lodge, actually, and I proceeded to park and look for someone to give us directions.
There wasn’t a soul around. No one, nobody, no signs of habitation. Abandoned. Hmmmm. I walked back to the truck and Joyce says there is someone walking over. Good.
I speak English, he doesn’t. I show him the park map. Blank stare, but lo and behold there was another fellow who showed up and he spoke English.
He explained to drive back to the main road, and after you pass the hangar (a makeshift building on the right) you will cross a bridge. After only 50 metres, turn right and you will be at New Ngundu Camp #1, our new and unknown site that we just found out about this morning.
Great, we had already passed the “hangar” and the bridge once in our search. We were close. It was 5:45 pm, and the sun was going down.
We head back to the main road, turn right, pass the hangar, cross the bridge, and drive. 50 m, 150 m, 500 m, no road to turn onto. Now what?
We are getting a little antsy by now, to say the least. The sun is going down fast, and we have no idea where to go, so I suggest committing hara-kiri on the spot, but Joyce’s calm and relaxed attitude quiets me down, for a moment.
After wiping the blood off of my scratched arms from Joyce grabbing me and yelling, “What are we going to do?”, off in the distance we see a safari truck heading our way.
We flag them down and are told we are almost there. Just follow them and they will direct us to the road to our site.
The sun has set, the beer is cold in the fridge, and we made it.
To Hell!
It was totally dark when we set up camp. Our headlamps helped and there was firewood stocked beside the braai, so I proceeded to light a fire.
Dinner was easy. We were prepared. At the Shoprite in Chirundu, we picked up some barbecue chicken, so dinner was ready to go. We would heat it up on the braai, maybe open a can of beans or corn, and settle in for a nice relaxing evening.
Well, the firewood wasn’t grown for making fires.
I wasted several pieces of “Bic” fire starter. All I could get was a smoulder, which happened to come in handy because when we looked over at our outside truck lights, set to red light to prevent bug congregations, there were 10 billion bugs swarming the lights.
Maybe there were only 10,000, but they were incessant. High-pitched buzzing surrounded our ears. There was no way to stop them.
I used a smouldering branch to try to smoke them out but it seemed like catnip to a high-craving cat!
We could not turn any lights on. They did not know the red light rule or any light rule for that matter.
Our site was in the bush with only a small view of the river overlooking a deep embankment. The bugs were driving us nuts, so we ate cold chicken, seriously thought of our next moves and went to bed.
We like camping in the wild, but we couldn’t find the drop toilet that was supposed to be on site, so I tried to dig a pit. The ground was as hard as rock and, from what we could tell, there was no toilet.
We did find the toilet when the sun came up. Fortunately, it wasn’t required.
We were not happy campers, but we did have a good night’s sleep, although amongst a thousand microscopic little bugs that infiltrated our sleeping area.
We awoke the next morning determined to leave this godforsaken place no matter what. The campsite looked nice in the pictures on the park office walls, but three pictures do not a true story make!
Our first site view
In the morning we drove back to the warden’s office.
What was supposed to be, as we were told, an 8 or 9 km drive was, in fact, 20 km. No wonder we couldn’t find our site.
After driving about 10 km the night before, we figured we had gone too far, thus the major confusion in finding the site in the first place.
On our way back to the park office, we saw a sign and pulled into “Old Ndungu Camp #1” to have a look.
It was an amazing spot.
As it turned out, at our first meeting with the warden’s office, they mistook us for staying at “New Ndungu #1.” Oops, they said, and yes, we could stay at Old #1 for the whole time. Perfect. Let’s hope that stays that way.
Anyhow, to make a very long story a little shorter, we were able to stay at “Old Ndungu Camp #1” for our remaining three nights. It was an amazing site.
We felt like we were sitting in a zoo full of animals, with daily unannounced elephant visits, hippos grazing nearby in the evenings, and lion roars in the distance.
We did a few self-drives in the park, primarily to and from the warden’s office, once for a shower and once to confirm we could stay at our site.
We saw more animals all day long at our site than on the drives. There was no need to drive. It was all there, right in front of us. Magical!
Our abode
Every day we had elephants popping into our camp unannounced. They are incredibly quiet when they walk, so they can come up behind you within feet, and you wouldn’t know it.
This happened several times. Joyce and I would be gazing over the flats, her or I would look over or behind us and, “Elephants!”
We would get up from our seats and watch them as they approached. They would watch us, slowly swaying their trunks, deciding if we were friend or foe.
They would get close. Very close.
We would walk over to the truck, slowly keeping our eyes on these beautiful pachyderms and ultimately they would decide we weren’t a threat and they would make their merry way down the embankment onto the flats to graze.
We did have one encounter where it was a little more anxious. Six elephants strolled into our camp the second afternoon of our stay. There were a couple of large females, a young calf and three juveniles.
We watched them, and they watched us, when out of the corners of our eyes we spotted two very large males making their way through the bush behind us.
Six in front of us, two big ones behind us. Joyce walked to the truck and hopped in. The bulls were at the rear of the truck on the driver’s side. My side!
I slowly walked towards my door, keeping eye contact with the biggest tusker. I opened my door, and they slowly turned and continued behind the truck and down onto the flats. Very, very cool!
Discovered we had a flat
Maves Starling
One other surprise came while I was just finishing up shaving. Checking for any missed whiskers, Joyce announces, “Elephants.” Not more than 10 feet away, five of the eight visitors from the day before wandered in. I think they recognized us and they wandered a little closer and then again, made their way down to the flats.
We departed Zikomo Camp on the 18th and had to backtrack more than 600 km to get to just outside Lower Zambezi National Park.
We had originally planned to stop again in Petauke, where we had made a pit stop on the way to South Luangwa National Park. But after leaving fairly early and making very good time, we reached Petauke by 1:00 pm. There wasn’t much to do there, so we decided to keep going and stop at Pioneer Camp outside Lusaka, where we had stayed previously on our way to South Luangwa.
We arrived just at sunset after about a nine-hour drive. It was worth it because, had we stopped in Petauke, we don’t know how long the drive to the Royal Zambezi would have been the next day—probably about 11 hours.
Departing at around 8:30 am on the 19th, we arrived at the Royal Zambezi Lodge at around 2:00 pm. Finally, a little pampering for three days!
Our private plunge pool
The view from our deck
We were treated royally at the Royal Zambezi Lodge, and we had an excellent view from our deck!
Warthogs kneeling as they eat
Below are some pics of the Royal Zambezi Lodge. Almost two years to the day earlier, we had canoed past the lodge on our four-day, 72 km paddling journey. We thought it would be nice to return someday and try out the lodge. We’re glad we did.
The lodge pool
The bungalows
We had a private dinner in the centre
On the second day of our stay, we did an afternoon drive through the protected reserve area surrounding the lodge. The area is administered by local communities and supported by RZL (Royal Zambezi Lodge) and local NGOs. There has been a fairly severe drought in the area, and the animals are having a difficult time foraging for food. Unfortunately, some human intervention has been required, including the scattering of large hay bales, salt licks and watering holes maintained by borehole pumps. It seems to be helping, as the elephants didn’t display the same level of hunger—no protruding ribs and thigh bones—as was evident in the national park. Hopefully, normal rains will return in October.
A hippo safe place away from the crocs
African Fish Eagle
Saddle-billed Stork
Zambezi Escarpment views
On our third day, we did an early morning drive into Lower Zambezi National Park. We didn’t have any luck spotting lions or leopards during our stay at the Royal, but the drives, scenery and wildlife were spectacular nonetheless.
A Jackal lazing in the sun
A herd of Impalas
Waterbuck and Impala
A lonely Baobob
Hungry Elephant eating Baobob bark for survival
Zambezi Escarpment views
The lodge was everything we hoped it would be: comfortable accommodation, excellent meals with plenty of choice, and superb staff who went out of their way to ensure we had an enjoyable and memorable stay. We had two very nice surprises on our second and third nights.
On the second evening, Joyce and I were enjoying sundowners at the bar, talking with Prosper, the bartender, and a couple of American visitors. We had made our dinner choices—we both went for the chicken cordon bleu—and were getting ready to move over to our “table for two” when we were told not to go there because they had a surprise for us. Looking at each other, we wondered what was in store.
They led us to the dining area and then pointed toward the wooden walkway leading to the boat docks on the river. Out in the middle of the walkway, on an expanded platform, was a candlelit table for two, far removed from a large American contingent sitting down to eat. Exquisite privacy, in a spot where only hours earlier an elephant had spent some time munching on the floodplain grasses. The stars were in full bloom, and the evening was perfect.
Our second surprise came the next evening. Again, we were having our sundowners at the bar when we realized we hadn’t put in our dinner request. Hoping we weren’t too late, we asked if we could see the menu. “No,” we were told. “Grab your drinks and follow us to the safari truck.”
A little late for a safari, but we followed and were met by Vincent, who had been our exclusive safari driver for the two drives we had done. We hopped into the truck and off we went for what turned out to be a five-minute drive. We assumed we must be going to the Royal airstrip, where perhaps tables had been set up, as we didn’t think there was much else around. But after a short drive, we could see a very large bonfire in the distance and a crowd of people milling about.
There were lanterns and torches surrounding the area, and we were on the banks of the Zambezi River. Tables were set, the bar was fully stocked, and we walked into a beautiful scene straight out of an old African movie. There was one other British couple staying at the lodge, along with us, the lodge managers, Vincent, an NGO representative and several others associated with the lodge and the protected area.
There was impala stew, chicken curry, nshima, rice, vegetables, etc., all described to us by the lodge’s head chef. Wow! We were made to feel at home and very welcome. We’re not sure if this is a standard routine, but we had great conversations throughout our stay with the staff and management and were, as always, friendly and polite (Canadian, eh?), so maybe this helped us snag what we thought was a very nice gesture—and something we will not forget.
Our hats are off to everyone at the lodge for giving us such a memorable experience. A big thank you to everyone at the Royal Zambezi Lodge!
We hit the sheets late—about 10:30, which is late for us on this journey—awoke later than planned and a little fogged by the wine, then departed for the long journey back toward Lusaka and onward to Zimbabwe to experience the World Heritage Site of Mana Pools National Park. We knew we would miss the comfy bed, but we were looking forward to camping again in the African wilds.
We departed Croc Valley on the 16th and left the crowds and rowdy monkeys behind for the peace and tranquility of Zikomo Camp located on the bank of the Luangwa River opposite of South Luangwa NP.
As has happened a few times so far, when we arrived in the early afternoon we found we had the whole camp to ourselves, at least for the first night anyway, so we had the choice of about 8 sites.
The camp was situated a little distance from the Luangwa River but the Puku, Baboons, Elephants and Hippos were plentiful and we had an almost panoramic view of the flatlands and dried ravines that made up the flood plain landscape.
We settled in, set up our site and relaxed and a few hours later I lit a fire to prepare the brai to cook another gastronomical gourmet delight of bbq sausage with foil wrapped snap peas, green beans and squash with butter.
It was dark when we finished eating and as we relaxed beside our fire the Lodge safari truck drove by on the flats with their spotlight arcing left and right over the dry terrain when suddenly they came to a stop not far from our site. They paused for a few minutes and then continued on back to the lodge.
Joyce and I commented that if it was a lion or lions that they spotted then they probably would have stayed at that spot longer and thought it would be great if they came over to our site to let us know lions were in the area.
Well probably 10 minutes later truck lights approach our camp along the campsite access road. A Safari truck pulls up and four men get out. Two are wearing their guide outfits and the other are lodge employees.
We were sitting beside the fire and when they pulled up we told them they were too late for dinner.
They proceeded to tell us there was a male and two female lions right in our vicinity so we grabbed our light and walked about 15 metres to the banks of our site, shone our light and there sat a beautiful large male lion about 25 metres away.
They then told us the females were probably right behind or near us in the bush so best to keep our eyes open. They then proceeded to their truck and off they went, the truck lights fading into the distance allowing the dark to envelope us once again save for our camp fire.
It was very dark outside and the area was littered with dry leaves from the enormous shade trees dotted throughout the camp site. Any whiff of wind would move the leaves and make it impossible to know if it was the wind or lion disturbing the leaves.
We sat near the fire and listened. We were a bit apprehensive. Then……a loud roar followed by guttural grunting. And very close by.
This lion is really close and there are apparently two more near by as well.
Our site was such that you either face towards an area where the banks extend to the flat lands or, you face looking towards bush to the front and left and right of us. We faced the the larger area of view but behind us was the blind spot.
We sat scanning the area with our high-powered flashlight, hair on the backs of our necks bristling, feeling something must be sneaking up behind us. Sitting back-to-back would be the best way to look out for attacks!
It was getting late, around 8:00 pm (ha ha) so we figured it was probably time to go to bed. As we drew our sleeping bags over us another guttural roar but this time further away. They had moved on. That was an exciting evening!
The next day and evening were uneventful but we did have hippos in the evening feeding very close to our site and on the morning of our departure on the 18th had a great close encounter from a visiting elephant.
We departed Kafue NP on August 12th and camped overnight at Pioneer Lodge, just outside of Lusaka, about a 6 hour drive.
The next morning we loaded up on groceries and headed out along the Great Eastern Road to Peatuke, a small town about 4 hours drive from South Luangwa National Park. As we checked in to get our campsite another couple from Germany arrived. They had pulled up in a fully decked Land Rover and were dressed the part. Safari pants and shirts, Crocodile Dundee hats and…they both wore a knife sheath and knife on their left waist. Very cool. Well not really.
Now, no offence to the German population but cultural appropriation which they absolutely love didn’t even fit here. Joyce and I spent the rest of the evening wondering what the hell the knives were for. They did mention to us that they were going to take the off -road route to South Luangwa so maybe they were going to skin a few Impala on the way to add to their fridge and maybe make some Impala schnitzel to roast over their open fire.
Who knows. It was strange.
We opted to have dinner in the lodge restaurant. The menu was varied and exciting (again not) with ultimately only three choices. We wanted a burger, they only had curried chicken, 1/4 roasted chicken or stir fried chicken or something. We split a very salted stir fry.
We departed early the next morning for a 4 1/2 hour drive to Croc Valley Camp, located on the Luangwa River on the opposite side of South Luangwa NP.
We’ve become used to camping in very private surroundings. Croc Valley wasn’t what we were used to. Our site was nice in that it was on the banks of the river but there was no privacy. There were two large groups within spitting distance on either side of us.
South Luangwa NP is a popular place so we really can’t complain about the crowds. We are a little spoiled considering where we have camped so far however the view from our site was excellent save for the effing monkeys who will steal the shirt off of your back if you’re not paying attention.
We arrived early afternoon, set up camp and relaxed for the remainder of the day.
I lit the fire and cooked chicken paprika over the flames with a nice side of scalloped potatoes and carrots with butter.
We decided to pay for a morning safari drive so we hit the sack early and arose at 4:45 am the next morning so we would have time for two cups of coffee, instant oatmeal with banana and a small yogurt before our 6:30 am departure. There were only four of us in the truck, perfect for a 4 hour drive.
Zambia has been suffering through drought so the area seemed to be particularly drier than our last visit in 2017. There was less game and after a couple of hours we began to think this drive was not going to live up to our expectations but there were still good photo ops for the scenery and animals.
Here’s the thing.
We all have these great expectations but we have to understand that in life there are no guarantees so you have to just breathe in and appreciate the incredible experiences that are in front of you and the anticipation of excitement that may be just around the next corner.
Sunrise over the Luangwa River
Elephant skull
Hippos everywhere
Campsite view
Mother and baby
Wally the Warthog
Guinea Fowl
Nursing baby Zebra
Cape Buffalo
Puku
Water Buck
Spoonedbill
Lilac Breasted Roller
Before we could be a little bummed another safari vehicle pulled up beside us and told us a pride of lions had been spotted about a km away so we proceeded to race to the scene where we were greeted by a beautiful male lion, three females and four cubs. They had just settled down for a nap so we were able to get up close for some good photos. They obviously had a recent kill as their stomachs were bloated, especially one of the cubs who laid on his side panting heavily as he snoozed and digested his recent gorging.
On the 16th we departed an overcrowded and no-privacy Coc Valley Camp and proceeded to the northern sector of South Luangwa to Zikomo Camp.
It’s hard to describe the potholes on the many roads we’ve encountered so far. It’s not one or two, here and there. It is giant craters scattered across all lanes and shoulders so it is impossible to weave your way around them. You drive one side on the road, the other on the gravel shoulder. You drive a whole new path along the shoulder, sometimes a new makeshift road. You drive no faster than 10 km/h. IT DRIVES YOU NUTS!
We arrived in Kafue on August 8th to an amazing campsite in a magical location. Mayukuyuku Bush Camp.
Our campsite was located on the banks of the Kafue River with a panoramic view across and around the winding river.
We spent most of our days sitting and watching. Hippos would congregate on the opposite shore to bathe in the warm sun. Crocodiles would be nearby doing the same and the occasional single or group of elephants would wander down to the riverbank for a drink or a snack.
Up close ad personal
Crossing the river
Elephant family
Sun bathing Hippos
Large and small crocs would drift by in the current and the occasional bushbuck and of course pesky monkeys would wander by within feet of our location.
The local crocs
Bushbucks
We had originally planned on spending two days at our first stop, Mayukuyuku Bush Camp, and then move on to another camp, McBrides, but when we found out how far and long the drive would be to McBrides and even more so how much we loved where we were, we decided to stay four days and stay put. Fortunately our site was available for the extra two days. We were very happy campers.
The camp attendant, Pizon, was amazing. He would come by every morning and wash our dishes. Yes, do our dishes, and in the late afternoon would show up with a wheelbarrow full of wood and start our fire. Every day he offered to do our laundry and on the third day we acquiesced and he returned a few hours later with fresh, clean laundry.
This was certainly something we really haven’t experienced before and probably never will again. He was always happy and if we said ” thank you”, he said thank you in return. What a guy!
On our arrival we were told of a dead hippo that was stuck in some rocks and rapids upstream from the camp. The next day we did a short hike and in the distance we could see, and smell the bloated body of this deceased hippo.
The next day it broke loose from the rocks and drifted down towards our site and presented us with the most amazing crocodile feeding frenzy you could ever expect to see. True National Geographic stuff.
I’m the Chief Cook and Bottle Washer and loved every minute of burning my fingers and daintily slicing veggies etc. with our serrated knife.
The Chef
The meal. One of many
We were told by a couple of South African campers that an elephant had swum across the river and walked straight into their campsite. We were hoping this would happen when we were there and on the third morning at about 5:45 a.m. I heard a loud crunch in the bushes beside our truck. I looked out through the screen and saw two large tusks and then a beautiful large elephant pass right beside us. Joyce pulled out her iPhone and caught these two pictures before it ambled off into the next campsite and into the bushes. This is what makes memories in Africa!
Our morning visitor
The hippos in the area were abundant and we happened to look over a grassy area on the banks of the river. Every evening just after dusk the hippos would become very vocal and slowly make their way to land to feed.
We just happened to be overlooking one of the areas where they would pop in for a bite and on our second evening we were treated to several that came ashore and grazed within 20 metres of where we sat watching.
On our third night we watched under the almost full moon close to a dozen wander up onto the land but they were just a bit to the side of our viewpoint but watching the dark figures snort and splash as they made landfall under the moonlight was spectacular.
Our evening visitors
Hippo footprints
Happy campers
Wheres the food?
Acacia tree branch. Not good for firewood!
We reluctantly departed Kafue on August 12th and made our way to a small lodge/campsite just outside Lusaka. Below is a typical bathroom break scene.
We departed Zikomo Camp on the 18th and had to backtrack more than 600 km to get to just outside Lower Zambezi National Park.
