Let the fact that ‘part 1’ being present in the title of this blog post, give hope that there will be a return to this beautiful country within the year. We actually didn’t plan on driving through Zambia… after Namibia, Angola followed by the DRC was the aim. But timing is of the essence, and we unfortunately didn’t crack the timing nut… the 4th wave of COVID meant that Angola’s borders were closed to tourists, and the transit visa we needed was bound to take a few days for approval. Days that we simply didn’t have (due to visa restraints). So, all of the sudden we were in Zambia, having just had a crazy 3-border-crossing-in-72-hrs experience, from Namibia to Botswana, Botswana to Zimbabwe, Zimbabwe to Zambia (via the most incredible Victoria Falls)… my Instagram account has more details of that hair raising border crossing story! 

So, now that you know this, you will know that we have been in a state of soggy for roughly the past 6 weeks (it has been this wet since the Caprivi Strip in Namibia). You will also know that green is the colour of the season, and jungle and/or dense forest is the nature of the vegetation. But maybe it’s not so bad… I believe moody, earthy palettes are good for the soul… somehow invigorating (or maybe it’s just me?)

Something that has struck us is the genuine gladness of heart, a happy smile on seeing us, rather than a ‘give me sweeties/ money/ books’ attitude, compared to other places we have been to.

We learnt from a history-loving gentleman who has been living and working in Zambia for over 20 years, that this is for a couple of reasons. Firstly, before Zambia became a nation, the people groups who make up it’s population were pushed in to that area of land – instead of fighting back, they took it well, and simply resettled. And indeed you can see that the people of Zambia are compliant, not rebellious. Secondly, the regaining of independence in Zambia was evidently very peaceful – something which did not scar the land or its people.

A note here on the border post entering Zambia from Zimbabwe. It was a CRAZY experience. It is obviously a very busy border post, which didn’t help. There were trucks everywhere, and even more people. On arrival, the car was surrounded by people wanting to take us through the whole process (obviously for a fee at the end) – they hounded us the entire time we were there. We had all the necessary documentation, including negative pcr test result certificates, so that was good. The only thing we didn’t have and never even knew about before hand, was a police clearance certificate for the car (obtainable only from the police in your home country). We learned later that this is not necessarily because its vitally important, but rather because it’s a field on the officials computer system which they don’t know how to override! Anyway, it took a VERY LONG TIME (+/- 4 hours) and eventually the official managed to get around it. This was not the only issue, but the amount of things we had to pay out for was insane – we tried to keep a tab of it, but lost count in the end… carbon emissions tax, toll road tax, third-party insurance, council tax, something called TIP (no idea what that stands for)… the list goes on. Some of it was only payable in US Dollars, and some of it was only payable in Zambian Kwacha – neither of which we had. Sooooooooooooo, after a lot of money swapping and throwing cash at various people, we got through. Exhausted. 

We drove away, thankful that there were campsites not too far away…

Livingstone

Such a beautiful, relaxed old town, where the stamp of old wealth has left it’s mark in derelict houses and overgrown gardens. This town has everything you could possibly want for stocking up. It even has a wonderful coffee shop, owned by Zambia’s best coffee maker (his coffee is sold all over Zambia). They also sell fresh bread, and the most delicious scones. This coffee shop was the first sign (I believe we’re going to see many more!) I have seen that Africa is beginning to recognise her own deep well of wealth and treasures, unafraid to present herself to whoever chooses to take delight.

Lake Kariba

trucks en route to a coal mine somewhere in the vicinity, but it was truly worth it.  We had the most amazing time at this beautiful lake for the first few days, where we managed to find a small campsite. Lake Kariba is a most peaceful place with still water and soft skies, where fishermen take to the water in small silent vessels to wait for their daily catch.

Travelling up the lake we soon discovered that there were MANY rivers we had to cross, until we approached one that was impossible to cross (you can read my previous blog post ‘Building Bridges’ for the story surrounding that). Alas, we had to turn around, drive all the way back, and go to Lusaka via the tar road!!

Lusaka

From the 4 days we spent here, it was easy to gather that Lusaka is a vibrant, dynamic city. It is evidently the fastest growing city in Africa – and it is clear to see that when you are there. There are many shopping malls that are cookie cut from the malls we have in South Africa – evidently all the investors are South African developers.

There is also a strong Chinese presence in Lusaka (and in every other town in Zambia come to think of it)… one could almost believe that Mandarin is the national language rather than English, due to the never ending signage in Mandarin and the industrial footprint of the Chinese throughout the whole country (see photo). But Africa will never stop being Africa! The exuberance that one experiences when driving through a backstreet of an African city on any given evening is second to none. 

Whilst in Lusaka we stayed at a tiny campsite called ‘Lukasa’, and we would recommend it to anyone passing through. Harry was an extremely knowledgable and helpful host. He helped us to realise that to try and explore Zambia or Angola or the DRC at this time of the year was bound to be quite futile because of the rain. He encouraged us to try and head north away from the rain, and then return to this part of the continent when the rains (and, more to the point, the roads) were not so intense. We took his advice, and decided to keep mostly to tar and head up north to Tanzania, and return to Zambia later in the year to explore the country from east to west, then head to the DRC and Angola from there.

Fringilla

From the road, Fringilla looks like nothing. It has a huge sign post outside on the road, but it’s so old and sun-beaten that you would never think to go in. It is on the main T2 road some 50km’s leading out of Lusaka. We stayed here for 1 night because it was convenient, but we were pleasantly surprised!

Forest Inn

A beautiful campsite nestling in Miombo woodland (a huge densely forested ecoregion of southern central Africa) off the T2 leading north towards Tanzania. Again, it was a convenient stop for us where Eugene could get some work done, and the kids some schooling.

And yep, that’s water pouring off the roof, that collected after a huge downpour of rain.

Kasanga National Park

famous for it’s enormous bat migration (the biggest migration of mammals on the planet). It was expensive to get into the park, and we would pay it again at the drop of a hat – this place is beautiful. It is what feels like ‘real’ Africa. Incredibly remote. Jungle-like vegetation. Grassland plains. We camped in a small area of cleared jungle. The experience of sleeping here was second to none, where the forest floor came to life and the towering tree canopy soared high over our heads.  

Chipundu

Then we made our way to the Dr Livingstone Memorial which was at the end of a very tricky 26km gravel road (which we had to drive back again, as it was a dead end). However, driving the road was wonderful (in fact, any gravel road you choose to take is the same), where children squeal with delight and adults faces break into huge smiles as they return your wave. On arriving at the memorial site, it was different to what we expected. It was a gated and fenced site, with a new museum (one very basic building with a few information panels inside), and a reconstructed interpretation of the hut that Livingstone died in (on the exact spot though). The actual memorial of where his heart and other internal organs were buried was a cross-topped marble obelisk. Having listened to the story of his life and getting to know his character, I’m not at all sure he would have agreed to all the pomp and circumstance surrounding his memory. We really enjoyed being there though – it was amazing to make the journey, and it honestly felt like a spiritual experience – a piligrimage – to have made it there.

The next morning we were the object of much staring by the pupils from the local school. In fact, a little 4 yr old boy called Edgar was brought to us the next morning, his cheeks stained with tears. Evidently he had never seen white skinned people before and was terrified. His teacher sent him to come and meet us, poor little guy. No matter how much we tried to show him gentleness or love, he remained as stiff as a board, and was shaking like a leaf until he ran off back to safety.

themselves from touching our hands and the skin of our arms. The school was 500 children strong, and we were taken to each class and asked to introduce ourselves. They couldn’t get over the fact that Malachi was only 15 – they just gasped and stared at him like he was a phenomenon!! The whole experience was certainly eye opening – we will never forget it, that is for sure.

Mpika, wild camp

Getting back to the tar road, we headed in the direction of the next campsite (the only one in the area), which promised to be amazing with hiking routes and swimming holes and all sorts of lovely things. On making contact with them, we learned that it was strictly (ie, no negotiating allowed) $20pppn (making it R1500 per night), which given our circumstances was just unaffordable (perfect though if you are wanting to go on a camping holiday and in itself is your destination – if you’re interested, the campsites name is Mutinondo). So we did what we’re probably going to have to do a lot in response to overpriced campsites, and wild camped for the night.

This was not the first time we had wild camped, and in itself ‘wild camping’ is a blogpost all of it’s own, but in this particular instance it involved driving down a very narrow dirt road heavily forested on each side,

until we found what looked like an old car track going off to one side, then bundu bashing with the car and trailer until we found a flattish clearing, then cutting away some long grasses, then setting up for the night, then eating, then sleeping, then promptly leaving early the next morning.

Shiwa Ng’andu

This place is so special, and is somewhere we had to go just to satisfy the curiosity! The place Shiwa, is astoundingly beautiful – magical even. The estate of Shiwa Ng’andu (20,000 acres) certainly succeeds in adding an edge of grandeur and mystery. Built well over a century ago by English aristocracy, the house and it’s grounds are a testament to colonialism, and a serious misfit in this beautiful rural African country. Remote and completely self sufficient, the owners of the Shiwa Ng’andu Estate (typical British eccentric aristocratic blood) allow tours of [parts of] the house in order to maintain public interest (and therefore funding). And make no mistake, it looks like something straight out of a period drama series. Except lived in, with many dogs and cats and muddy welly boots. When i asked if we could see the kitchen, and asked the lady of the house if she enjoyed cooking, the response was, ‘Darling, I can’t boil an egg. But i have very good chefs’.

The farm is a fully working, well oiled machine, and looks like it’s been pulled out of a picture book depicting medieval life. The entire estate reminded me so much of the New Forest – it’s huge trees and ferns and beautiful still lake, broken old wooden bridges and muddy puddles abounding. Don’t forget of course, about the seven beautiful horses in the stables or the pig families roaming the grounds, or the geese and their young slowly waddling across the road, completely oblivious to how cute they look or to the fact that they have spectators.

Unaware at the time that we were trespassing on private land, we wild camped on the shores of Lake Shiwa Ng’andu. But it really was rather lovely.

Kapishya Hot Springs

lovely because being in this delicious warm flowing clean sulphur free water, felt just like the right place to be. Actually, I would go so far as to describe the experience of being there as sacred.

There is a small campsite here, on the banks of the fast flowing Mansha River.

Kasama, wild camp

From our two nights spent at the hot springs we needed to stock up and move on to the border. Stocking up took us to Kasama (a large town), where there were an abundance of people selling fresh produce, and a Shoprite (warning: very expensive for things we might use daily – dairy products particularly). This took some time, and so by the time we had finished in Kasama we had once again to look for somewhere to camp.

Mbala

Our last night in Zambia (for now), we spent on a campsite on a working farm, close to the town of Mbala, near the border with Tanzania. Albeit wet, and despite the loudest thunderstorm we have ever been in, it was such a lovely experience – surrounded by mountains and trees we enjoyed a small walk around the farm before setting off the next morning. Affordable and clean, the name of the campsite is Ferns and Flowers, and we would definitely recommend it.

Which of course we couldn’t, as the border crossing was calling us from 40kms away.

Crossing the border from Zambia to Tanzania

We quite purposefully chose the smallest and most remote border crossing we could to cross over into Tanzania. At the best of times, border crossings can be intimidating and nerve wracking, and then having to deal with queues and trucks on top of that is enough to make you feel absolutely shattered.

But what a pleasure it was! There wasn’t one rude or grumpy official, and I don’t think corruption is in their vocabulary. Leaving Zambia was simple – they simply signed us out. We were advised that we didn’t need to have a pcr test to enter Tanzania, as they do a rapid test there anyway. So against our better judgement we didn’t go for tests, and hoped for the best. The lady on the Zambian side was very wary that we didn’t have our negative certificates, but said that if we wanted to deal with it on the Tanzanian side, it was our choice. Perfect. We agreed. And with that, drove out through the little gate into 100m of No-Man’s Land towards the Tanzanian gate.

Immediately they wanted to see our pcr test results. We gently and calmly explained the situation. The lady shrugged her shoulders, took rapid tests and signed us off as negative. Otherwise, we were good to go. I was the only one needing to pay for a visa ($50), and then we had to pay for both car and trailer at the customs office. A heads up: they accept payment in US dollars, and in Tanzanian Shillings (which of course we had none of). We only had $100 notes, and they had no change… just make sure you go in with some smaller notes.

Other than that, no issue!! We were through! 

And so watch this space… Tanzania, here we come! And Zambia, thank you, truly. We’ll be back.