We drove to the top of Ngoragora Crater into thick mist and down a narrow winding road into bright sunlight with the crater spread out before us. After the great experience with a guide in the Maasai Mara, we decided to take one with us into the crater, but the guide we took thought we were paying him to talk and sms on his cellphone, until I enlightened him that we expected him to spot animals and take us to the water spots! (We had been spoilt in the Masai by an amazing Masai guide, Edward Lion, who knew the tracks like the back of his hand and could spot things from miles away!) The light for photo’s was amazing and we saw loads of animals and had a really good day.
On our way to Zambia we camped at the foot of Kilimanjaro, and wonder of wonders………….it rained!!!!! It was wonderful and we both felt like doing a rain-dance. (We had not seen rain since our first week in Mozambique). Of course, it meant that we were unable to see the peak with all the clouds about, but it was cool, wet, and wonderful and I will never complain about the rain again.
Through Tanzania we had to use the same road south as we had used to go north, and crossed the chaotic Tanzania/Zambia border at Tunduma. Northern Zambia is a lot less populated than any of the other countries that we have visited so far, and is really beautiful. Indigenous bush and mountains wherever you look with hardly an animal or any form of agriculture to be seen. There are few vehicles to be seen either. It is so unspoilt that it is difficult to even get diesel. We virtually had the pot- holed roads to ourselves………..fortunately we have been carrying 120 litres of diesel in cans, and had to put 100L of those into the tank to enable us to limp to the only garage that had fuel in the North. I think that we had about 2 litres in the tank to spare!!!!
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I continue to have a love affair with the children of Africa……..they are so free and unaffected. One sees them happily walking along the highway, from about 4 years old, hand in hand, sitting on fences chatting, playing on rocks, sand, garbage or anything else that happens to be around.Our clutch had been slipping from time to time, and was getting worse by the day. Knowing that we had a spare one in Knysna, and amazing friends there as well, we asked Errol and Lorr Scanlen to help. Errol, just about to tee off, phones Lorr. Lorr collects the clutch from our house, drives to George, and air- freights it to Cape Town, to be collected by Brandon (our son) who flies it out to Lusaka. Is that not going above and beyond the call of friendship? Thanks Scannies, we owe you big-time!
The Kapishya Hot Springs are in the middle of nowhere, on a private farm called ‘Shiwa Ngandu’. Owned now by the Harvey family (a grandson of the original owner,Stewart Gore-Brown), an eccentric Englishmen, who wanted to settle there. But the woman he loved, was not prepared to live there without all the ‘niceties’ of life, so he built her an English manor house. Sadly, by the time the house was finished, she had fallen in love with someone else and never did get to see it. The farm is like an English village with stables, outbuildings and labourers cottages, all with shingle roofs and in typical tudor style.The ‘springs’ are water bubbling out of the earth into this clean pool, at 35 degrees C, and is surrounded by indigenous bush. We spent 2 nights there, and, on travelling the next day, I asked Lionel how it had been in the pool that morning, and he said it had been fine, but that he was a bit worried about his heart!!!!!! ‘Oh, no,’ I’m thinking, with dread,….. has he had palpitations, ……….was it too hot?.....................Turns out, he did and it was!!!!!....................... The little french number who came down to the pool while he was there, had nothing on, and then proceeded to put her costume on in front of him!!!! He hastened to tell me that she wasn’t so good looking…………… personally, I don’t think that he ever got to look that high up!!!
We picked up Brandon complete with clutch at Lusaka airport, and had it fitted the next day. We made one interesting stopover on our way to Livingstone and the Vic Falls at a camp site with a croc farm, where there were 4 vehicles filled with SA policemen (part of a 15 car posse) who were on their way to the Congo and other African countries to recover stolen vehicles.
Arriving in Livingstone we set up camp at ‘The Bushfront’, a small, well-maintained place, complete with pool, bar, restaurant and DSTV nogal!!!
We are really happy to have Brandon along, as he has added an extra dimension to our journey. (Dare I say, that I think that we had become a little bored with african markets, poverty and the overwhelming heat.)The next day river-rafting, down rapids 10 – 25, was on the cards. The descent into the gorge was so steep that it took 20mins. They have made a ladder-like pathway that one literally steps down from log to log, and in the really steep places it is necessary to go down backwards! Our legs like jelly, and well and truly overheated, we arrive at the river and I’m wonder what on earth possessed me to even entertain the idea of rafting. However, once in the boat, we loved every minute of it and actually bailed out and swam down one rapid. Thankfully, we weren’t required to climb out and were chair-lifted out of the Batoka Gorge and then transported back to watch a video of our exploits. This morning, very stiff and sore, there were loads of grunts and groans accompanying any physical movement, we walked to see the ‘Falls’. Had a really good lunch at the Royal Livingstone Golf and Country Club and now look forward to moving on tomorrow……….
