January 3, 4, 5, 6 - Lusaka to Livingstone

  Ernest and I decided to find an Iveco agent in Lusaka to get the car fixed once and for all and we didn't want the kids hanging around to wait for us. There had been just too many delays and another one was going to break the camel’s back so we waved goodbye, they went to Livingstone which was a good six hour drive and we went to find the agent.

  After a number of twists and turns in the hell-hole that they call Lusaka, we managed to find the agent along a dirt road that had craters in it, just for a change! And there was the agent, with a big Iveco sign outside – it was like striking gold, we were overjoyed and really believed they would definitely solve our problem.

  Out came the computer and with much aplomb the chief mechanic removed the greater part of the dashboard and plugged in the laptop. With a puzzled look on his face he told us that there were about 11 faults but none of them was our mystery 065!

  So now we had to find the right one that would turn off the dam red light! Well four hours later, after trying every avenue, they eventually decided that they didn't know what was wrong and they couldn't fix it. At that point I felt like putting a match to the damn car and catching the first plane back home. A Unimog was starting to look like a good option. Anyway, after phoning South Africa and even connecting the SA computers to the car, they were still in mystery.

  We felt that we were achieving very little by staying there, pulling plugs out and plugging them in again, so we decided to try and follow the kids and go for Livingstone. We knew it was a six hour trip and as Ernest's eyes are not too good at night, we thought that we would have to spend the night camping somewhere en route.

  The car was still limping along with our red light blinking at us with sickening regularity. Then we went over a nice big bump and, yippeeeee, the light went off and we were back to normal again!

  To get out of Lusaka was another story. The agent had drawn a map of a " short cut" which Ernest had handed to me with strict instructions to not get us lost. Well after 10 turns we were in the middle of the worst informal settlement you have ever seen; people just everywhere, taxis cutting in front of us and Ernest and I yelling at each other. We were completely jammed in, lost in hell. To turn that truck around is also not easy but we had to try and retrace our steps and start again, not that it would help very much as I had meticulously followed the map, even though Ernest thought that I hadn't.

  At this point I resigned as the navigator, Ernest fired me as the navigator and we weren't talking anymore. The yelling had turned into a deathly silence!  Very helpful, but nevertheless we were both being very right. We eventually found a huge articulated truck and just followed him through the narrow streets until we popped out onto the main road out of the city. We figured he must know this apparent short cut – Phew! We were out and on our way at last.

  We had gone 50 kilometers out of Lusaka when a guy in a Prado passed us and started waving madly… who the hell was that? Did we do something wrong? Did we cut him off? All these questions... He slowed down and we passed him again and he was still madly waving so we thought we should stop. It turned out to be Stuart, married to my nice Debbie, who we knew was working up in Zambia. A quick hug and a chat on the main road and he told us about a short cut / bypass of the particularly bad part of the road. He really wanted us to spend the night with him at the sugar mill where he worked and we would dearly loved to have done that but the kids were waiting for us at Livingstone. What’s more, it was Mark’s birthday so we really felt we should push on.

  The road he took us on was dirt, but a lot better than the Tar / pothole mess. So we followed him at one hell of a pace and cut out a huge amount of sweating and swearing on the "main road ." It was a real lucky meeting for us, as it cut at least 45-60 minutes off our time, so the prospect of making Livingstone that day was quite good.

  We always swear that we will never drive in Africa at night, it is just so dangerous and a stupid thing to do, especially on the great north road, but we had pushed on so far when it started to get dark that there were no more camp sites and we were reluctant to bush camp on our own. Up in the very remote parts of the country, we would have just stopped and camped for the night but around this main road it was a bit risky, so we forged on and arrived in Livingstone around 10PM that night.

At least it was done and we could put up our feet and relax for a few days.

  The following morning we were up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and we all headed for the falls after breakfast. It is just a short walk through the hotel grounds to get there. There is something so magical about those falls and the grandkids were raring to go. The last few times we were there, the water levels were quite low but there have been good rains up-country so it was a pretty impressive flow with lots of mist and thundering water.

  It was the first time the grandkids had seen the falls, so it was wonderful to see their faces and watch their enjoyment at the spectacle. They particularly enjoyed watching other tourists bungee jumping off the bridge. It is just as well you have to be 16 to jump otherwise I think we could have had one or two of our kids that would have given it a go.

  We then decided to go down a very steep incline to go and see the whirlpool. I unfortunately persuaded Ernest to give it a go and half way down he twisted his back and put it out badly. Oh my gosh, it was a real struggle to get him back up to the top. In fact, I think that did even more damage, even though we took it really slowly. Struggling up about 60 big, uneven steps wasn't the right thing to do and his back muscles literally seized up. By three that afternoon I realized we were in trouble and that he wasn't going to be able to move on the next day as planned. We called in the paramedic who gave Ernest a huge Voltarin injection to try and ease the pain , he gave me a packet of 100mg tablets to top it up and Tracy stepped in and did some heavy massage on his gluts to try and release the spasm.

  In any event, we were hardly slumming it, so we decided to just take the pressure off and stay put for the next day. We had made a booking in Botswana and were due to arrive there, but we knew we just weren't going to make it. In fact, I was considering just putting Ernest on a plane and flying him home. These kinds of mishaps are really part of African travel and you just have to take each day as it comes. Fortunately we were in a magnificent hotel and nobody was under any kind of stress. The kids had the swimming pool, a great big lawn to play on and a hotel that made you feel like you were the king of the world.

  I haven't said much about the hotel so I will mention it now. This is probably my most favorite hotel that we have stayed in... It’s built on the edge of the mighty Zambezi River, above the falls so you see the constantly rising mist that Vic Falls is so well known for. The hotel itself is built and decorated very tastefully and the minute you walk into it you feel like you have been transported back 100 years into the age of colonial Africa. You’re surrounded by the most magnificent, comfortable furniture, a huge wide veranda to shade you from the harsh African sun and there is always a butler attending to your every need. Hardly a hardship in any way and certainly nothing to complain about (except the exorbitant price but at this stage it was the last thing worrying any of us).

  So by the next morning, after a good night of drugged sleep, Ernest was feeling much better. He could just get out of bed and hobble along to breakfast so we were making great progress. I think the final tipping point on Ernest's progress back to mobility was my threat that I was going to drive the baby Hippo back to South Africa and he was going to have to either sit in the passenger seat or lie on the bed at the back. His recovery after that was quite miraculous!

  The day was spent in luxury, relaxing and drinking tea and eating cucumber sandwiches. We shoved Ernest into the pool and made him swim up and down which was exactly what was needed for his back, and the grandkids found the WiFi and drank copious amounts of cool drinks delivered by the ever-attentive butlers..... A hard day in Africa!

  We undertook at least two trips to the market that is situated just outside the hotel grounds, at the entrance to the falls, to buy curios. It is one of those typical African markets, just packed jam full of wooden carvings together with all the artists and traders that have their bartering patter down cold. There must be at least 30 little stalls all vying for your attention and trying to strike a bargain.

  Mark’s kids, especially Eve, just loved the bartering and had gathered as much stuff as she could out of the caravan to swop for anything that took her fancy. She is really a chip off the old block and Mark had given her a few lessons on how to barter before she got there so these poor old traders didn't know what had hit them when she came along. She was trading pens, shirts, shampoo, soap with a bit of money, for anything that she fancied. Her two brothers also did a bit of trading with their packet of goodies but they couldn't hold a candle to her newly developed skill. Those big blue eyes with an innocent angel look on her face totally took those hardened traders by surprise and she walked away at the end of a few hours trading with a big bag full of stuff and a grin from ear to ear. Oh my gosh, is she her father’s daughter through and through! I was tasked to just follow her through each stall but I never got a chance to intervene in any way, I feel sorry for any future business man who tries to take her on. She is a force to be reckoned with.

  The " trading" took up a good part of the day so Mark’s kids were happy. Aiden and Garrick had occupied themselves swimming, and with Ernest’s rapid improvement we had a good day and were pretty sure we would be able to move on to Botswana the next day. 

December 22 to January 2, 2018 – Luwawa Forrest Lodge, Luangwa, Lusaka

We really did try and get an early start from Nyika, because we knew the road was bad and we had 600 kilometers to go to reach our half way stop on our way to South Luangwa reserve. Ernest and myself went down to the lodge to pay the camping bill, while the others were still packing up all the wet washing.

Fortunately it had stopped raining, not that that was much consolation, the washing was not going to dry. Going up and down that very steep slippery slope to the main office was a bit of a trick for us as all. Mark worked on draining the tanks, etc but it didn't seem to have done anything for the baby hippo and we were still spluttering and missing.

Anyway bill is paid, up the hill we went, stalling and spluttering but eventually got back up and we set off hour before the others. We knew our trip was going to be tortuously slow so we had to get a head start on them. Suddenly about 10 kilometers on the way, the red engine light went out, the car started to perform normally and we were off...yipeeeee!!

We were going to beat the lot of them to the overnight stop and whatever Mark had done, had seemed to have work! We were heading for Mzuzu, as we felt sure that when we put in the high grade diesel and all our problems would be solved. Got to Mzuzu about two hours later, we were first for a change, but there was no high grade diesel to be found. 10 kilometers out of Mzuzu, bleep up came the red light again and we were back to our snail’s pace again. This time we were right in the mountains so it was a case of going down hill as fast as we could and up the other side, slowing down to literally 5 kms by the time we reached to the top.

One good thing about going so slowly is that you get to see the magnificent countryside. The highland of Malawi are of course very densely populated but traveling through those areas are picture perfect, very green, beautiful trees and the agriculture is neat and manicured. They grow a lot of tobacco which I found interesting, I suppose it is the one cash crop that brings in actual money comparing against the maize which just feeds them and doesn't bring in cash.

We were making very slow progress far behind the others and then just to make matters worse the torrential rain hit us again. We weren't very happy campers!!  By this time it was very obvious that we weren't going to reach our planned destination and we would have to find a place closer to where we were. The maps showed a Luwawa Forest lodge that was not too far away and as it was starting to get dark, so we decided to go for it. What the map didn't really give us was that it was 14 km’s off the main road on one of those things the Malawians call a road. It basically is a cleared path way in the bush with lots of holes, lumps, bumps and MUD.  So we just soldiered on.

We got to this so called lodge, hoping to find a bed and at least a meal as to start cooking at this point was going to be a bit tough. They had a campsite with what they call ablutions, lots of trees, thick bush and lots of mud, so we had to squeeze the man truck in, which Guy had become very expert at maneuvering around. It was too late for them to give us dinner however the kids were all in very high spirits so it turned out not too much of a problem that dinner was late. They did at least have lots of hot water but again this is the story of Africa, you had to avoid the spider webs in the showers and wear shoe to avoid what other things were lurking in there.

In the meantime, Mark had been calling Juan who was in contact with the Iveco agents in SA and they had told him how to handle the fault. Just pull out all the sensors for the injector’s, etc. and a whole lot of other stuff and something would reset the fault and the car would go again! Ernest and myself, had decided to head straight for Lilongwe and try and find a Iveco agent there who had the diagnostic equipment to handle the fault.

The kids were all occupied with the lodge dog, who's name was Bob, a huge fellow that looked like a bull mastics, he was quite hilarious, obviously loved children and would just not leave us alone. He unfortunately really thought he was the boss and had to put ethics in on the entire area so the next morning when Luke was banging at the caravan leg with a hammer, Bob decided that he shouldn't be doing that so raced up and pushed him right over, sending him flying. It was a bad moment as we weren't sure if he had bit him, but he hadn't done any other damage other than push him over, so it turned out he was just intent on stopping him from "being naughty" still it gave us all a big fright. So Bob was no longer the flavor of the month.

So we set out the next morning with the intention of splitting up, kids going to South Luangwa and Ernest and I going to Lilongwe. But all the plugging out and plugging in of the night before had seemed to work and the car was perfect so we quickly changed directions and put our noses towards South Luangwa with the rest of the group.

We managed to make good time and arrived at South Luangwa, early enough for the girls to go for some good old retail therapy. The Tribal textile shop was still open so everything came to a screening halt and the ladies including Eve were off on a shopping spree. By the way, Eve is proving to be a real shopper like her Aunty Lisa. I have been to this workshop and factory many times and after our long trip we just wanted to find the right campsite and settle us in so that we got a good riverside site. 

The wildlife camp seemed to be our best bet as it was a little out of town and there were apparently not as many elephants wandering through the camp. We managed to get ourselves a very good site and headed straight for the pool to cool off. It got really hot during the day, such a change from the freezing cold weather of Nykia. We had stayed at this camp several times before and it was really the right choice, especially we were headed for the New Year and this camp is far enough away from the villages around South Luangwa where all the parties would be.

The Luangwa river is a magnificent river, which is pretty full at this time of the year and is about 150 meters wide with fast flowing water, full of hippos and crocs. We settled in for a few days of relaxation. We just had too much traveling and I think we would have had a children's revolt if we had event tried to move for at least three days. They could bring out the radio controlled cars, put on their costumes and swim, take out the kettie's, to shoot the monkeys which proved to be worse than anything we have experienced before. They had the kids running around trying to shoot them with marbles which very soon ran out, then had to resort to a pile of stones.

Monkeys in these camps are a real nuisance and have become so clever at stealing food, you just can't leave anything out in the open and they even managed to climb through the tiny hole of the gas compartment which was connected to the little storage area where we had some mangoes. They must have been watching when we put them away and figured out how to get to them, so clever. We were also constantly visited by a huge Likkewaan, who was about a meter long and I made the mistake of giving it an egg. So now obviously it had been fed eggs, it just grabbed the egg so fast as we put it down, ate it in a flash and came back for more. After that it just hung around constantly and I nearly stood on it a few times. It also became quite aggressive when anyone tried to chase it away and then just to top it all, we found that it had two babies that were also obviously very used to humans and were constantly also looking for scraps. We never found out if they could bite but nobody was willing to take a chance, their tails could certainly give you a good whack.

We only went for one morning game drive into the reserve as it is quite expensive, and we were so sick and tired of sitting on our butts on any kind of car seat that we just didn't want to drive anywhere. Besides which there was plenty of game around the camp, the constant flow of elephants, large and small, monkeys, baboons, then nightly visits of the hippo and the buck on the grass plains to the side of the camp. The bird life is also prolific and can keep one entertained for hours, but there was nothing to beat that pool which was a magnet to all of us. Sitting around the pool with a cup of tea and Jacqui's Christmas cake. 

After four days of real holiday we reluctantly had to pack up our camp in this little piece of African paradise and move on to the great city of Lusaka.

It was again many miles of torturous road, the potholes and trucks not as bad as the great North road but torturous all the same, anyhow we just had to grit teeth and get on with it. Again the truck was giving a lot of trouble, so eventually the others went ahead and we trundled on at a snail’s pace behind them.

We have decided not to try and camp in or near to Lusaka, it was just too much after the long day traveling and the early start we needed to achieve, to finally make it through to Livingston the next day.

We found a hotel that looked reasonable and put our heads down on a stable bed after a good Italian dinner that was not cooked by me.

We knocked out!

December 19, 20, 21, 26, 27 & 28 December - Shewa Nganda, Nyika, Malawi

We had spent some time with Mark Harvey, the owner of the lodge at Shewa Nganda pouring over the maps trying to decide which would be our best route to get to Nyika Plateau. We had found out from some of the other campers that our planned route would not work. The border posts seemed to be quite dicey or non-existent and the roads are pretty dam awful.

Mark runs a walking safari outfit in North Luwangwa so he had travelled those roads often and gave us the directions. He said it was a good 12 hour trip and that we should split it in two and bush camp somewhere before the Malawian border. But we are a family that always know best and decided that we would just get up very early and try and go for it in one day. Shewa to Nyika.

So we got up pretty early, Ernest was revving his car at 5.30 to try and get everyone going but we are not known for our speedy start and although Tracy and Guy did pull out of the camp at 6 they were very slow on the road out, which was so full of holes and washed away that Guy just could not get up any kind of speed.

We left a good half hour after them but soon caught up with them and at a snail's pace speed to the main road. It is a case of the tortoise and the hare, Mark being the hare of course. He slept in a little, left at least an hour after everyone, and still beat us both to the main road.

So we were back in the great North road with the busses, trucks and the odd taxi (the ones that haven't got squashed yet). Fortunately we only had 120 kilometers of the torture, bouncing, swerving for the potholes and avoiding the odd goats. This environment is however quite beautiful, reminded me of the garden of Eden, very thick green vegetation, beautiful trees, huge rocky outcrops, mango trees just dripping with fruit, small patches of very green mealies and then the big serpent (being the Great North road ) with all its vices and evil winding its way through the garden.

We stopped for fuel at Isoka, which was a mistake as it cost us a good half hour of navigating through the town with people, goats kids, motorbikes and pot holes. Our fuel tanks full, soccer balls handed out and we were on our way.

Finally it was time to turn off that dam awful great north road and head for the hills and Malawi. The smiles very quickly got wiped off our faces as our next disaster struck. Our little hippo which had been and angel up to this point suddenly started to splutter and miss fire. A BIG red light came on which said "ENGINE failure"  service fault 065, and it spluttered to a halt. Just cut out and thanks for playing!

We were devastated, this was our beloved new toy and it had failed on us. So we quickly radioed McGuiver and told him of our plight. By now it was pouring with rain and we were stuck. Both Mark and Guy turned around and came back and started to do what men do best, open the bonnet and fiddle with the engine. We tried to start it again, no luck. Then we phoned SA and got the guy who last serviced the car to ask him what fault 065 was. He didn't know!

Wonderful! After some more fiddling and pumping the accelerator, Mark eventually got the car started again and we decided to just push on. Had to be dirty fuel or something like that or perhaps our car did not function on the low grade Diesel that you get up here...all these possibilities but we were going at it again. That cost us another half an hour so our chances of getting to Nyika were getting slim, but we soldiered on.

At this point we were still on tar, the usual pogo stick ride on a tarred road built by the Chinese, but tar none the less, which did mean we made good progress. But as always in Africa the tar runs out and we were back on dirt with at least 100 kilometers to go. It was only about 2.30pm so still no reason to panic we soldiered on. At least the rain had stopped and although it was still very overcast, there was no actual rain.

As we started to climb into the mountains the road became worse and worse, we went through the most beautiful forests, through spectacular "passes" which were completely unspoiled by man.

Another mountain pass

Thank goodness the rain was holding off as I doubt we would have managed some of the slippery slopes if it had been wet. And still we climbed. We were warned to look out for the Zambian exit office as if you missed it and didn't get your passports stamped out, then we would not be able to get back into Zambia, which we planned to do after Nyika on our way back home.

This "border post"  was not actually on the border but apparently a little office by the side of the road 30 kilometers before the actual border and easy to miss. We found it and after all the official stamping and signing we moved on to the Malawian border. We had two and a half hours to get to the post before 6 when it closed- 30-40 kilometers, piece of cake we thought.

Oh boy, this was not a usual piece of cake. The road just got worse and worse and we were not sure if we were even on the right road. We stopped one transport operator and asked him directions and if we were on the right road "yes” he said, “and the road gets much better and it will take you an hour."

Well in the end we were all in 4 wheel drive and going at about 5 kilometers an hour, slipping and sliding all over the road. Guy nearly did a 180 going up one of the steep rocky riveted inclines which was quite interesting to watch from behind. We eventually after many wrong turns up almost non-existing roads made it to the border post at exactly two minutes to six!

Oh dear, there was no official at the buildings, no lights, no nothing, fortunately there was a lady, who seemed to be someone who knew something arrived and with a cell phone started calling around and told us not to worry she would get Mr. Official back and  everything was no problem!!

Beautiful Scenery

Elephant Mountain

It took a good half hour of calling and talking but gradually all the officials arrived back at the empty, dark building to stamp our passports but it still took lots of soccer balls and coaxing to eventually get through. They had wanted to charge us $10,000 per car for import duty but we eventually got away with a fraction of that after Mark had “bambooseled” him properly. We eventually pulled out of the border post at 7pm. “Shew” and we still had about 60 kilometers to go to the gates of Nyika on a road that everyone told us was much improved and the big question was would they let us in at this late hour.

The one thing that I find fascinating about Africa which I have mentioned before is how the local people anywhere in Africa where we have traveled just accepts their lot in life, if the road is bad they just drives down the bad road, even if it totally breaks their cars, if the food is little, they just eat less, if the education is bad, then they just accept it. There is very little standing up for rights or fighting to improve conditions. In other words you just accept what your lot is and make the best of what you do have.

I guess that is why things just go down and down to a point of the irreducible minimum. I have purposely not mentioned the painful subject of the car as it was still giving trouble and the ENGINE failure sign was going on and off at regular intervals. Every time the engine sign came on we would lose power and fall down to a snail’s pace and then yipeeeee it would be off again. We just had to push on, get to Nyika where we were sure that they should have some sort of workshop facilities.

Mark still had some good Diesel mixed with the bad stuff so he wanted to drain all our obviously dirty diesel and put in some of his good low sulfur mix. We were really just grabbing at straws at this point as we had no data...nobody could tell us what fault code 065 was.

Finally we got to the gate at about 8.30pm and although they let us in, they would not let us continue in the park at night and go to the lodge which was a good 60 kilometers into the reserve. At least we were safe inside the park (with a very flimsy few bars between us and the villages) but there was a night guard on duty which gave us a small sense of security. It was the first actual "bush camp” that we had done, which was exciting, even though we had dogs from the village come to scrounging around for bones instead of the hyena that we would have preferred.

The next day we decided to get up early, give the kids some cereal and head for the lodge at Nyika Chilinda camp for a good hearty breakfast at the lodge. As usual our best laid plans didn't work out so good, the road inside the park was as bad if not worse than the one outside and it took us a good two hours to get to the lodge.

Rolling Hills From Chilinda

Luke and Max decided that they wanted to travel in our car, it is always so much nicer to sit in our car than anywhere else and Mark very reluctantly said yes as we thought it wasn't very far and it was inside the reserve so you cannot go too fast. Well After a few minutes I realized that I would have to stay in the back with them as we were bouncing up and down quite hectically and I had to try and keep them in their seats.

I tried a few times to get them to go back to dads car but, oh no, it was far too much fun bouncing around in the back with granny playing eye spy. Both of them are very good at the game but Luke did cheat a bit here and there (shades of his father and grandfather I am afraid).

When we finally arrived at Chilinda we realized that it wasn't the kind of lodge that would serve us breakfast at 10 in the morning or at all for that matter. Eventually after much Q and A and driving around we found the campsite and rolled our kitchen out to give the starving kids something to eat. By this time we were all eating our finger nails.

I was totally dismayed at the camping facilities; it was a Wilderness Safari's camp so we expected at least clean ablutions and a few other facilities. Well it was the same bathroom block that had been there thirty years ago when we were there with Tracy, Mark and Juan. They were in bad shape then (thirty years ago) but you can imagine how bad they are now. The same old wooden kitchen with an old coal stove that must be at least 50 years old and I wouldn't even walk in the place let alone cook in it.

There were three small shelters but only one allocated for us and the thing that really amused us all was the wooden stand with Five hooks all painted in red and marked in big red letters FIRE. The out point being there was only one red bucket, with a hole in it! I guess it rains so much up here there is a fat chance of a fire but then for goodness sake only have one hook and a bucket without a hole!

The rest of the day was spent doing the much needed washing of clothes, it is amazing how much dirty laundry is created by 11 people. It was a bit of a stupid thing to do as it was very overcast and there was a good chance of rain and then the drama of loads of wet washing would be disastrous and smelly inside the car. We did however have the little covered shelters so our little “AF DAK” turned out to be one big washing line.

Nyika is known for its cold weather, it sits at 4000ft above Lake Malawi (7000ft above sea level) and it is cold and rainy even in the middle of summer. We knew that there was a great possibility that it would rain but we were holding thumbs that our luck would hold out and the rain would stay away just for a day or two.

This is called  "The Great Mountain in the Sky"

It did hold off that first day and we sat in the campsite  that evening overlooking the most beautiful vista of green rolling hills, with Zebra, Reedbuck, Eland and bushbuck grazing right in front of us. It is evenings such as these that make the long arduous drive worth while. It was this Africa of peace and beauty that we love and it feeds our souls.

We had a wonderful time around the campfire with Ernest telling the kids stories of our early travels with their moms and dads and all the hilarious stories of what they used to get up to. A special moment for them to learn about how we survived in the bush in the early years and how clever their parents were. I don't think I have ever seen the kids laugh so much and it was always "tell us another one Gampie."

We all went to bed in very high spirits, looking forward to seeing more of Nyika the next day. Unfortunately our luck never held out and it started to rain during the night and it just didn't stop.

When it rains on the plateau, it just rain and rain. When we got up in the morning it was still raining and the fog was right down on the ground so we could see none of the vista that we saw the night before. It looked pretty set in for the day so we had to face the prospect of wet smelly washing in the car for the next day or two.

We had booked a game drive for the morning and decided to stick with that plan...either that or sitting around under the cloths line full on wet washing.

The drive turned out to be really worth while, we had a really terrific guide with his little "helper" who had the most unbelievable knowledge of the fauna and flora of the region. He took us to a huge lake that the local people believe is a healing lake. They believe that there is a very large serpent that lives in the lake and if you come to the lake and the serpent appears and you are able to touch its tail then you will be healed. Of course he was very eager to tell us about an actual time when some very ill man was recently brought to the lake and he drank the water and is now totally healed.

I have no doubt that this is a true story but it really shows the power of the mind and what can be achieved if the belief is strong enough. Nyika is very famous for its 200 odd species of Orchids and although it is apparently the wrong time of the year for Orchids, we did manage to see about 6 or 7 different  kinds flowering in the veld grass.

Wild Orchids

They are quite magnificent and I really wish that it hadn't been raining and we could have walked through the bush. He also managed to find us a few of the medicinal plants growing up there like Artemisia (the anti malaria Warner herb that we were on) and St. Johns wart which is for depression, which Ernest and I  really needed at that point because of the "Engine failure" and the weather (joke) There are huge herds of game on the slopes of the hills, we saw, Eland, Roan and Zebra.

Anyway no amount of feeling sorry for ourselves was going to change the weather so we soldiered on, again!

Mark, Ernest and Guy spent the afternoon fiddling with cars. Guy handled the big hippo and Mark spent the whole afternoon handling the momentous job of taking out both fuel tanks draining them and then putting them back. Unfortunately the roof of this "workshop " at the lodge was not high enough to allow the camper into the shed so they had to work outside and although the downpour had stopped it was still very very cold and miserable and it mostly rained again.

The girls spent the afternoon sitting amongst the wet washing which wasn't getting any dryer. Tracy Garrick, Aiden and I sat and played Rummycub and got trounced by Garrick who has got that game sussed out.

The men took the car on a short drive but unfortunately the problem still seemed to be there.

After dinner we got everything packed up as we wanted to get an early start the next morning so we could get to Mzuzu to see if we could get some decent low sulfur fuel.

Until next time, over and out.

December 15, 16 17 and 18 - Shiwa Nganda & North Zambia

The trip up from our farm stop to Shiwa Nganda was one of those days that makes you think ‘what the hell are we doing this for,’ but it is one of those days that you just have to grit your teeth and get it over with. Ernest's calculations were that it was about 350km (him waving his hand up and down, saying its approx 350km - with a sheepish look on his face) farmer Mark laughed and said it was a good five hour drive, well even he was wrong. Wrong, wrong, we didn't even stop for lunch and still only arrived well after 4 in the afternoon. Firstly it was a good 600 kilometers, secondly the road is so bad that you get seasick even sitting in the front of the car, a real pogo stick ride, thirdly the trucks and other moving vehicles are terrifying particular the busses that pass at 130kilometers an hour going up or down hill, round corners, over blind rises and sorry for you if you are on a bicycle, you had better move fast or get flattened.

I would not like to imagine even trying what it is like to sit in one of those death traps, mind you they seem to come off best and everything in their way is a death trap. Try as I might, I still jump with fright every time one of them passed us, the whole car seems to get pushed off the road and I swear our side mirrors missed by centimeters.

The trucks are not much better, they are not going as fast as the busses so we have to pass them - not sure which is worse! I got better and very good at just closing my eyes when we come up behind these monsters, I just can't confront the combination of the big truck, the narrow road, the bouncing and the odd pothole the size of the big hole of Kimberley (that is a bit of exaggeration but I need to paint a picture here)

The wrecks on the side of the road are a constant reminder of just how twisted the trucks become when they hit one of these holes or swerve to avoid them and lose control. Just to make things worse there are kids just everywhere, they are so close to the edge of the road, tiny little tots of about three years old that are sometimes completely on their own or with other kids slightly older than them. They learn from a pretty early age the meaning of ‘survival of the fittest’ and are all trying to sell their wares to the passing trucks, mushrooms, mangoes, tomatoes or the big bags of charcoal.

Just let me interject at this point and described these bags of charcoal that they sell, it seems to be the national product of Zambia, cutting down the trees, making charcoal and selling to the endless stream of the truckers. I suppose this is basically their only source of income....sorry for the trees. Anyway the bag is about a meter high and then on top of the bag they create this expanded section of netting which is also stuffed with charcoal about another half meter in height. Sort of gives the impression of abundance, right? More than just a bag. Well we bought one of these outside Mongu thinking it would be enough charcoal to last the trip, only to find, when you open it up that in the middle there are a few bits of wood, sticks and branched and the bottom third of the bag is full of charcoal dust. Once you have bought and moved on 200 kilometers you certainly can't go back and ask them to give you your money back. I think they know that there is going to be no customer comeback from the truckers so they get away with their little cheat.

Road side shopping stalls

The one improvement up this high in Zambia is that there is no or very little livestock wandering around the roads. There are certainly no fences here so the locals obviously just don't have livestock or the trucks have wiped them out already or the locals have eaten them all. Maybe a combo of all three of these factors.

Finally we arrived sometime after four to find Mark already nicely settled in,  caravan set up, awnings out and kids already in their costumes waiting for us to head down to the hot springs. I hopped out the car, left Ernest to set up our campsite and headed off to the pool. Took a little coaxing to get them into the water especially Max who looked on with great suspicion, but once in, they were happy to stay and soak the stressful day away with huge smiles on their faces.

Thank goodness we had now decided to stay put till after Christmas, give us time to enjoy the healing waters of the hot springs and prepare for Christmas.

That night we were exhausted and retired pretty early. We all woke up early and started our big preparations for Christmas. Eve was out and ready with all her tinsel and the decorations that she had been making at every available moment on the way up. The trees got decorated, the poles of the awnings got decorated, the little grass huts got decorated, so we really got the Christmas feeling and spirit. Then it was off to the hot springs again. 

The kids had discovered the cold pool at the hotel so they spent most of the day running from one to the other, hot cold, hot, cold. That afternoon was spent on the Christmas presents making activities. Ernest who was the biggest cheat, as he had bought a wooden boat from the side of the road which he was going to just paint, got a dressing down from his daughter as she said, rightly so, that was just cheating. He needed to add something to the boat, so poor old Ernest had to put on his thinking cap and come up with some other idea to at least add to his cheat.

All the kids were hard at work creating each their own little present, it has turned out to be a great activity as it kept them all occupied for hours.  Amazing how excited they have all gotten at the idea of making a present for someone else. I felt the most sorry for Mark as all the kids had him doing a lot of the drilling and carving for them and he had no time to get on and make his own present. Thank goodness we had the two full days as this was proving to be much more work than we thought.

A very interesting cyclist, called Alfred, arrived in the afternoon and we invited him over for dinner as he looked like he needed a good hearty meal and some company. We had a wonderful evening hearing about all his adventures over the last two and a half years. What made this guy so special is that he was traveling with his dog, a big black dog of no particular breed but obviously totally devoted to his master. He was 69 years old, came from Switzerland and was a vet by profession. One day he decided he wanted to travel, he wanted to do Africa, so he decided to cycle from the top of Norway to Cape Agulhas. He sold his practice, waved goodbye to his wife who refused to accompany him and set off on his journey. He had traveled 30,000 kilometers and only had trouble in one country where some hooligans had tried to take his watch. He had never been sick, ate in the local "God bless you Restaurants,” and sometimes treated himself to a meal or a decent campsite like Shiwa Nganda. The dog ran with him all the way. He had a little trailer which carried his small two man tent and a few supplies. His stove had blown up somewhere in Tanzania so he didn't even cook for himself. He put Dimitri (the dog) in the trailer going down hill but he had to run if they were going uphill.  How he ever managed to stay alive on that great North road is a mystery. We tried to get him to divert onto some smaller roads but he was insistent that tar was much easier so he would just brave the busses and the trucks.

The day before Christmas arrived and we were so carved out and chiseled out and painted out that we decided to take off a bit of time off from our Christmas present activity and went river rafting down the Shewa river, or should I say all but me, I decided that a hot stone massage sounded much more fun than bouncing down the river on a rubber dingy fighting off the crocs.

When I asked the guy at the reception at the hotel about the river rafting and if it was okay for the kids, he had said, with a big smile on this face that there were a lots of crocodiles but I mustn't worry too much as they had not lost any guests to a crocodile  yet!  Very encouraging.

So I left the others to the crocs and got rid of some of the stress of the Great North road on the massage bed in the spa. Would you believe it, in the middle of Zambia, having a hot stone massage!  So after playing hookie for the whole morning it meant that everyone had to really apply themselves to finish their presents as they had "wasted” the whole morning bobbing down the river, or should I say they had to get the "dads" (Mark and Guy) to finish their presents while they ran again between the hot springs and the cold pool. I have to say, all of them did very enthusiastically make their presents and finally were very proud of their creations.

That evening we all went down to the hot springs again for our nightly swim. Other guys from the campsite were there washing hair and bathing which was a great idea as that water is so good for you but the one young girl was brushing her teeth and spitting in the pool, oh my gosh, Aiden was so horrified that she actually spat in the water that he got out and it took us about half an hour to coax him back in.

All the water had to flow out of the pool and into the river before he would even put his toe back in. He however didn't mind if his gran washed her hair as long as I rinsed it off close to where the water flowed over into the river. A real natural health hydro spa in Zambia,in the bush.

That night was of course early to bed as we knew that we were going to be woken up very early with some very excited children but not before we had set out everything for Father Christmas. We weren't sure if he was going to be able to find us in deepest darkest Africa. Although we arranged a mini Christmas at home before we left, there was still the hope that Father Christmas would deliver his presents and find us in Tanzania.

Next morning as expected the kids were up really early, we tried to keep them inside as long as possible so as to avoid the malaria mozzies but it didn't work for too long and they were out of their beds and into the presents. All the boys got remote control cars so the whole campsite was subjected to cars racing around the tents.

Then the big moment arrived for us to exchange our secret Santa presents. The days and days of preparation had finally reached its finality. The first one to read out his poem was Luke. His poem said "he has a bald patch on his head and he sprays me a lot, in his red underpants" didn't take too much guessing to know who that was...Gampie. The kids had been listening to the story of when we went to Botswana and Ernest had forgotten to bring underpants, we had stopped at “All Days” and the only shop that had underpants was Pep and the only underpants that they had were bright red.

One morning we had to break camp very early and Ernest couldn't find his shorts so he was walking around with his red underpants, his belt with his knife, shouting instructions to all the kids. So even the grandchildren call him the man with the red underpants. He had made him a really sturdy walking stick on a stand, exactly the right present for Ernest.

The next to go was Aiden, his poem was "She is very good at debating and she likes baking" that didn't take too much guessing either- Eve. He had made her a stick doll. So creative and no doubt will be treasured.

Then it was Max. His poem was "He is the biggest kid and his name starts with G,”  he had made a name plaque for Garrick.

Garrick's poem was "he is a super dad, his bald spot sometimes drives him mad, but I am glad he is my dad.” So that didn't need too much guessing. He had made a wooden board on which he had carved all his dad's favorite sayings like, ‘ Boet, Mushi and you rock dad.”   

Then came Eve with a very long involved poem. She is our budding linguist, after reading the poem which she had written on a beautiful card she then proceeded to peel offs at least six layers  before she got to a big MAX. It was so typical girl and she is so obviously the only girl amongst this group of hooligan boys. She had made him a little man with a back pack with some lunch in it, a container for his petrol for his bike, plus a spanner aide out of wood and painted blue - very productive.

Then came Ernest's present for Luke which was the cheat boat, painted but it did have a little man in it with a sail. Luke was thrilled and everybody agreed to let him off his penalty.

Jacqui’s turn, the only true artist amongst us wrote a beautiful poem for Aiden and gave him a cartoon picture of our trip, our two trucks, the dodge speeding ahead, all the kids and something very special to remember the trip by. It was beautifully framed on a mat woven from reeds. It is something for him to frame and keep in his room as a reminder of this Africa trip.

Guy then said his long poem about me but unfortunately he threw away the paper so I never got it to record it here. He had made me four beautiful flower pots made from dried monkey orange skins, very inventive and special. He had filled then with stones from the hot springs and some veld flowers.

Then it was Mark and Tracys turn what they had made for each other and Mark’s poem to Tracy was. "He had made her a picture frame plus stand with a promise of a picture to remember the trip by and Tracy’ poem about Mark was, “he's a multi-hatted man with the motto of I CAN.”  There was more but Tracy never kept this either.

I was last with my poem "she is a blue eyed blond haired beauty, that is always so good with all her duty. She loves to bake, the most delicious Christmas cake. The dream catcher is what she needs, pleasant dreams is what it seeds.”  I made her a dream catcher with feathers and seeds and things I had collected on our travels.

It was a real high point on the trip and the accumulation of lots of fun and imagination put into practice and produces a product that they were all proud of.

The rest of the day were spent cooking a great big Christmas lunch with Christmas ham and chicken (we tried the Turkey thing but it didn't cook quick enough and we landed up donating it to the camp guard and replaced it with a good old chicken) crackers, Christmas lights, a special red tablecloth and a pop up Christmas tree ‘a la’ Tracy.

Then we all headed off to the hotsprings to finish off a great day and thank goodness no rain! I will add in the missing poems as soon as I manage to squeeze them out of the kids.

Signing out & we wish all of you had a lovely Christmas.

December 12, 13 and 14 – Kafue, Mkushi - Zambia

After we had spent an extra day looking for 'diamonds,' and we had done our walk to the falls, we decided to drive straight from Ngonye Falls to Kafue.  We knew it was going to be a long drive, but  we thought it was better to push through and not stop in Mongu, which is very un-interesting, dirty and probably full of malaria. So we planned to leave early with just cereal for breakfast and push through till lunch time. As usual our intended departure was 8 and we pulled out of the campsite at 9am, not too bad, a definite improvement.

We got to Mongu quite quickly, the road was good and not too much traffic but the clouds were gathering and we could see big rains were coming but we had plenty of time, so we thought! I must say, I always love approaching these African towns and reading all the names above the shops. They dream up, ‘Be free restaurant and bottlestore,’ ‘The reality pub and grill’ and ‘The Lord’s peaceful restaurant,’ with two tables and six chairs.

We arrived fairly early so we thought we should just try and show the kids the Barotse Museum. What we didn't know was that it was 30 kilometers in the opposite direction and when we got there it was so bad that the kids basically learnt nothing. By now the heavens had opened up and it was absolutely pouring with rain, they had no lights in the museum so they couldn't see anything. The "Losi” people have such an interesting culture and history and we thought that the kids might learn some of it at the museum but unfortunately the old colonial days have long since gone and history is unimportant to these guys now so nothing of the old culture and records remain. Anyway they did see the old Admirals uniform which the queen of England had given to the Barotse King since Cecil John Rhode's time. So every time there was a new king, he gets a new Admirals uniform, epaulets, hat with all the tassels, braid and all. Then this king wears this uniform when he brings his people in from the flood plains in a boat paddled by 100 paddlers. Now that is a ceremony that I would have loved to have witnessed.

 

Now after driving for at least an hour on the most appalling road, and saw nothing, we had some fairly grumpy adults, never mind the children, we turned our sights towards Kafue. The most difficult thing on this trip is to get Tracy out of the town. She is a very inquisitive person and likes to get involved with everyone. I really love her attitude as it is one of involvement. She shy's away from nothing and just loves talking to the local people, finding out about their lives, their history and culture. A little like Ernest, but on steroids. It is wonderful except when you are in a hurry, it's pouring with rain and we still have 5 hours left to travel. She still wanted to see the inside of some little shop that 'looks' interesting. We all left town and headed down the worst road we have ever traveled in Africa, in the pouring rain and left poor Guy to try and pull her away out of the shops. She did buy some delicious locally baked bread I must admit.

When a road in Africa becomes more pothole than a sand road, it is horrific to travel on. Everyone is weaving all over the road and every now and then the whole road is a pothole with bits of jagged tar sticking out that makes you bounce all over the place. Every now and then there is a hand written sign that says "slow down.”  Well the first one we came across Ernest said 'wonder why they say slow down’ not taking his foot off the accelerator, which he finds very hard to do.  I swear he has lead in his shoes so he just can't lift his foot of the pedal.

Anyway, when he hit the first bump, things started falling out the cupboard which had popped open, hit the second one and we bounced higher and we got showered with more goodies and the third bump put the final touch on the fiasco. By this time, the cupboards were bare and the floor was piled high with the contents. It was then left to me, bouncing and weaving in the back to try and put everything back again. I managed to stuff back the goods back into the cupboards so now, God knows, ‘what is where’ because I don't have a clue anymore trying to stay

organized. Mark described it as a little like being on a pogo stick. Needless to say the next sign was dually heeded and I was madly phoning Tracy to warn her as that big hippo would not have stayed on the road if they didn't slow down.

The road to Kafue seemed endless with Mark way ahead of us and needless to say Tracy and Guy way behind us. We reached our Kafue camp site at about 5.30pm, just in time to set up camp and get dinner started before the Hippos came out the water to visit.  We were camped right on the edge of the river so the first things that came out even before the chairs were the fishing rods.

Mark put a table on its side about three meters from the water’s edge and made the kids stand behind that and cast in from there. Quite an ingenious way of keeping them safe from the crocs.

The one thing that I always find interesting about these trips is what hard work it is. The driving is exceptionally stressful, the skill needed to keep that vehicle moving forward safely and covering the huge distances that needs to be covered, with a small margin for error because of other bad driving and shocking conditions of the other vehicles on the road. The roads are so narrow and the trucks are so huge that I often feel like those comic book characters that go flat and then pop themselves out again.

Then there is the cooking, washing dishes, washing clothes and keeping the children entertained and fed is what we girls are constantly busy with, just writing about it is exhausting. You wake up in the morning and think about what to wear and then realize that if you wear something clean then you have to wash the one item you wore yesterday. Enie, meanie, miny, mo, I think I will just wear the dirty one again! Then next long camp site stay over,  will have long washing lines full of clothes.

Trips like this are exceptionally tough but they do create lasting memories. It sure forces you to confront and overcome barriers that you have never had to confronted before and it broadens your view of life.

In the morning we found out one of the reasons why Guy and Tracy were so long on the road the day before. When the heavens opened they found that the hippo had one huge leak between the cab and the body. It was so bad that Tracy had to sit with a Tupperware bucket over her head as the rain was just pouring and right over her- and just to add insult to injury it was all black water, obviously from the perished rubber between the cab and the body. These things you only find out when you get caught in a heavy downpour. So between storms that would rush up onto the roof of the cab, try and dry it, then seal with silicone and then the next storm would hit and in would come the rain again. Then they cut up a rain sheet and stuck it on with duck tape for the next storms. No wonder they took so long and all the while we were blanking Tracy's shopping spree's.

Kafue Camp Site

Our rest day at Kafue was very needed, just to give your internal organs a chance to settle down after all the jarring and jumping from pothole to pothole. Most of the day was taken up with the Christmas present activity. Guy and Tracy and the boys set up camp in the next door campsite and started their creations. Mark and Jacqui set up their little workshop and I started with mine. Ernest read his book as he can’t think what to make for his secret Santa and I guess he was looking for some inspiration or for one of the woman to give him a bright idea. So it was a very productive day with chopping and chipping and drilling and screwing and sanding and a little fishing in between. Luke and Garrick were fishing (behind the table) supervised by Ernest. Garrick said to Ernest ‘Gampie’ look at that croc, which was sitting quietly about six meters away (thank god for the table). Ernest said ‘don't be ridiculous Garrick, that is a log.”  "No Gamps, it's a croc, watch,’ and with that, Garrick picked up a huge clay clod and threw it and hit the croc right on the head. It flew up in the air, tail slashing around and swam off very fast now that his cover was blown. There was one very surprised Gampie, never too old to learn from the grand kids. That night we were visited by an Elephant who broke branches all around us, a very disgruntled hippo who didn't like the elephant in his territory so went running off very noisily into the water in protest and a band the lions roaring very close. This always makes life interesting. Day 13, and time for our next big loooong haul right across Zambia. We left Kafue early as we knew we had a drive of about 700 kilometer. As we drove onto the main road there were 11 wild dogs lying by the side of the road, so unexpected and a great farewell to Kafue. I thought there was no game left in that place, how wrong I was. We covered the first 300km’s with ease and then hit Lusaka! Oh my gosh, how anybody lives there is a miracle. You just go crunch in that traffic. It took us over an hour just to drive through the place, we didn't even try to stop and buy anything, just tried to navigate through some of the pot holes, missing the big trucks, who are all intent on driving you off the road, the pedestrians who just walk, or the peddlers all over the road trying to sell you anything from earphones to fruit to suitcases. Once out of town we were on ‘the great North road.” The road of the big trucks where Mark remarked that it is the only corrugated tar road with a middle monochy that he has driven on,literally!  This is what happens to a country with a non-functioning rail system. Huge overloaded trucks that just chow up the road. This is what we have to look forward to in SA in the near future now that our newly bought locomotives by the ANC government don't fit under the bridges. We found our much talked about coffee shop outside Kabwe but it was very disappointing, no beautiful carrot cake or cream scones! We still had a long way to go so we made Ernest swallow his cap pachinko and move on. Guy and Tracy had tracked down an old friend of Guy’s, who had a farm just the other side of Forest Inn where we were scheduled to stay. So we had a quick change in plan and we were heading to their farm to spend the evening with them. His Farm Manager was away and we could use their house as a base, nice to have a good clean bathroom and we would have dinner with them. This saved us girls a bit of work.  Poor Jaqs, could take a break from those endless dirty dishes.

 What a wonderful evening we spent with Mark and Fiona. They have four kids ages from 12 to 19, who were all home for the holidays and had a great time entertaining our lot. Mark and Fiona have had a very tough and demanding life. They started off as farmers in Zim - that just about says it all. After their third generation farm was stolen by our Uncle Bob (Mugabe) and his friends, they moved to Mozambique and worked as farm managers. A pretty tough time, then they heard that there were farming opportunities available in Zambia so they moved up to Mkushi, where he has a farm of about 250 hectares plus another three somewhere else. These farms are leased from some colored folks who are too lazy to farm so are only too pleased to sign long leases with farmers who pay them for the land. They really struggled at first, living in a very basic home with no glass in the Windows but have plowed all their capital back into the farm which is now turning around and paying off. Fiona is an artist so her home has paintings and clever bits of art making it really quaint.  Mark grows seed maize that is non GMO (all GMO foods are banned in Zambia, at least they have got that right). But it still seems to be a constant battle to stay on the land as the president here likes to take advice, or should I say used to take advice from our friend Bob and is constantly hassling the farmers. So we had an evening with lots of chatting, lots of exchanging of ideas and laughter. There is lots of Malaria here, in fact Fiona actually had malaria and was busy treating herself. They really take it in their stride and all of them including the kids have had it many, many times. We of course were so sprayed up and buttoned up to our necks and thick socks and boots in the heat, they certainly were casual about it all. After a lovely evening, we all retired pretty clean and exhausted! Until next time, good night!

December 8,9,10 and 11 - Mudumu, Caprivi Strip, Ngonye Falls, Zambia

We spent the day at Mudumu, under the shade of some huge Jacalberry trees. Eve took the lead and had all the kids making Christmas decorations to hang in the trees around us, when we stop for our Christmas break. The boys soon got bored with that and started fishing in the river. They could not go too close to the water’s edge as there are huge crocs in the river and fortunately they are as scared of those brutes as the grown up's are. It didn't take long for them to catch a Barber, yuk they are horrible things with those long whiskers. They are also very clever fish and like mozzies I am sure that they have big brains, anyway this one certainly was very clever, it swam straight for the branches of a fallen tree and so try as they may they couldn't reel him in. They eventually had to cut the line and let him free so there is a Barber swimming around the Kwando river with a hook in its mouth which will eventually land up in some crocodiles stomach! Would be interesting to follow the trail of that hook!

We went for a game drive in the afternoon, saw a bit of game but mostly just enjoyed seeing the terrains of this part of the world. That evening some other guys arrived at the camp site...oops!  A group of five guys from Hoedspruit of all places. We had only booked in for a night and then decided to stay so we were cheating. They very gracefully accepted our misdemeanor and just shared the campsite, it really was a big piece of Africa lawn and we all fitted without a problem, so we all swapped names, beers, stories and enjoyed the African sunset together.

Next day it was time for the painful task of packing up and moving off again. Ernest and I were ready first so we went off to pay for the campsite after our little illegal stay over and we said that we would meet the rest of them on the main road. Well, we waited and waited and waited, we radioed, radioed and radioed and just as we had decided to go back and find them, they came trundling down the road. As I said before we have got to practice this packing up thing a bit more but this time they had an additional problem. Guy went to empty their porto-pottie and as he threw the stuff down the long drop, the lid as well...not good! Oh dear, that was a disaster, but he had a plan to retrieve it with the fishing rod. As he was returning to his car to get the fishing rod he passed Mark on the way to the long drop with his porto-pottie. He had heard Guy’s swearing about this disaster. Mark asked Guy, if he needed help and Guy said, ‘no problem it's all sorted.”

Mark thought he meant that he had retrieved the lid so he proceeded to empty all the contents of his pottie into the long drop. Now the screw top was irretrievable! And you can't easily buy a lid for a Porto-pottie up here. “Eish” now that's a problem. Oh boy did we laugh!

The drive though the Caprivi was a very pleasant surprise. We have never seen such orderly and beautiful built African villages before. Each family group of huts has a reed fence built around it which are, absolutely perfectly constructed, straight on top and not one piece of rubbish or plastic bag lying around. Very neat schools with sports grounds that were perfectly kept. This was truly a pleasure to see.

Katimo Malilo is quite a bustling little town with a big supermarket and hardware store for us to buy some stuff for our urgent repairs like lids for porto-potties and Valcro to restore our Mozzie nets, filling up gas bottles which Ernest had not done in SA. He thought that you purchased gas bottles full! Now that is being blond, don't you agree especially that this is the second time he has made the same mistake!

Off to the border crossing now. The Namibian side was a breeze except when we tried to go through the last police check and they found that we went through the border post when we entered Namibia and never paid the road tax, “oops” we had to go back to immigration and pay the road tax, now we were the ones holding every one up for a change.

Oh boy, then we hit the Zambian border post which took us well over an hour to get through. They have so many forms to fill in and so many taxes to pay and so many queues to stand in and the locals who are really very polite do know how to slip in to the front of the line, very politely of course!

Seriously, I really do enjoy the Zambian people especially the money changes at the border posts. But they are sharp and fast, look like hip hop dancers doing a 'deal' and you can really get caught if you don't keep your wits about you and are not sharper than they are. They were on their phones and constantly checking the exchange rates and bargaining with everyone that comes through. I remember in the old days it was very illegal to change money with these guys but now nobody seems to bother about them anymore, in fact the officials actually send you out to exchange currency.

Mark was up and away and got through almost half an hour before us. Don't know how he was so fast! Anyway he waited for us about five kilometers out of town and phoned us a few times to find out why we were taking so long. He put his phone down onto the Dodge back when he was getting cool drinks out for the kids and forgot to pick it up. So that was the end of his phone, he drove off and only figured out ten minutes later that he had forgotten it on the back of the truck so he has now donated it to somebody in Zambia.

We eventually caught up with him after our border ordeal and headed for Ngonye falls. Last time we were there we stayed at the community center as we couldn't get down to the camp site on the river because the Hippo couldn't get past the trees and Ernest wasn't going to start any deforestation project at this point. This time I thought to hell with that we would give it a try, we started to walk it with Guy following up slowly cutting trees as he went. When we finally reached the bottom after at least half an hour walk, we realized that we would never get the truck all the way down plus it was full of mozzies and it would have been an awful campsite, so we had to do a quick turn around and walk/run back up fast in front of Guy. He was too far down and couldn't  turn to get out again, all this activities at 36C plus!  Too late he was right behind us! We then sent Mark off to check out another campsite down the road and got a very welcome radio call from him to say that the place was great and we must come over there.

By now it had started to rain and we had all the kids in our little hippo, all saying, ‘Granny what have you got to eat,’ so we were feeding them with chips and junk while the moms and dads weren't around, a thing that grandparents do to keep the grandkids happy.

Sometimes in Africa you come across little tucked away hidden gems and this is what Mark had found. A South African couple had moved up to Zambia on contracted to build the Zambian/Angolan border post. They had bought a property on the Zambezi river and created the cutest little lodge/camping spot. We unfortunately couldn't all park together as the actual sites weren't big enough but we each had a little clearing and we used our van as the central cooking area. It was called ‘Whispering Sands’ and you could see exactly why. The campsites all overlooked these huge white dunes with the Zambezi river on the other side. As you walked over the sand dunes they actually squeaked, hence the name whispering sands. He had a sign on the road saying ‘Whispering Sands’ and ‘Koue Bier’ so no question about it, where he was from!

We had been messing around (cutting trees and fighting through border posts) that we decided to just eat at the ‘Restaurant.’ The owners, Eddie and Jeanette are from Pretoria so we figured she must know how to cook a good old hearty meal and we were right, she had schnitzels for the kids and the most delicious oxtail for us. Guy ate so much I swear I thought he was going to pop! Doesn't say much for my cooking!

 

We decided to stay put, so the next day let the kids, particularly Garrick enjoy some fishing.  Eddie took him down to the river and showed him where to go fish. Well, he reeled in a huge tiger fish and it was the biggest one that even his dad had ever caught. Seriously it was huge!

After that the kids were hooked, never mind the fish being hooks. We just couldn't tear Garrick, Guy and Luke away from that water. There are apparently 3 to 4 locals a month taken by crocodiles, so us girls were a bit paranoid about the boys especially the younger ones staying well away from the water’s edge.

Anyway while Guy, Mark and Garrick were fishing, the other kids started picking up the small shiny crystals on the beach and came rushing to show us their ‘diamonds.’ I must say they looked just like the diamonds that we saw at the Kimberley museum but really we didn't take too much notice until Luke and Eve later came running to our small hippo as I was cooking dinner, just beside themselves with excitement. Eddie had bought a little stone analysis machine and when he ran the light over the stones, the light went red which meant that they were diamonds. Oh my gosh, they had about 16 each in their packets that had all shown a clear red. Eve was already counting up her millions and spending it at great speed in her imagination.

The excitement was palatable. They all wanted to go straight down to the beach and collect more ‘diamonds’ but of course by then it was nearly dark and the hippos were out of the water so it would have been rather dangerous on the beach. We planned to leave the next morning but the allure of diamonds was too great and Eve with her negotiating powers over her father managed to persuade Mark that we definitely needed another day to get more diamonds and at this rate he will be able to retire right away. So the itinerary got shifted around and the kids were on the beach at six the next morning collecting crystals. I now understand the diamond rush at Kimberley, the allure of those little stones are irresistible. Anyway, Eddie said that he has a friend who is a diamond expert and he was coming around later in the afternoon to re-asses the stones as he didn't think his little machine was too accurate. After exhausting the collection activity we managed to get the kids off the beach and we went for a short ride in Guy’s Hippo and then a longish walk to the actual falls. We had seen them a few years ago and felt it was worth the time to go back there again.

They are the second biggest falls in Zambia, the first being Victoria falls, and really worth seeing. It was a hot day so the mist from the falls really cooled us down. When we got back to the camp we all waited for the ‘diamond expert’ to arrive. Finally he arrived and very quickly loomed through all the stones and dashed everyone's expectations of a rich and happy future. Oh my, what a letdown for the kids, no diamonds, not even one. Eddies machine was a complete dud and obviously couldn't really tell if they were diamonds or not!

We had very deflated children for all of half an hour and the swimming pool became the favored activity, they soon forgot about the stones and we forgot about our plans to buy the campsite with it’s non-existent diamonds. We spent the next few hours watching the TV with baited breath to see if Zuma was in or out! They even had a TV in their little pub! Then we had a G&T to celebrate the outcome of the voting – Zuma, head of the ANC party. Not Champagne mind you as Ace and David M, was not the results that we, or I am sure Cyril Ramaposa were hoping for.

Signing out for now!

The Zambezi River Basin