Livingstone & Lusaka, Zambia
October 4th – 6th 2010
I flew from Jo’burg to Livingstone as I didn’t want to cross overland via Botswana. I originally wanted to visit the Okavango Delta but the thought of being on a mokoro (a kind of boat) with the poleman by myself for several days turned me off the idea. I think Africa is best traveled with groups of people, in a rented car of your own. Traveling solo presents logistical problems sometimes. So to my friends out there, when would you all like to go to Africa? 🙂
Victoria Falls was quite a let-down. I had expected a massive waterfall but I didn’t factor in that it was the dry part of the year. Most of the waterfall on the Zambian side was dried up and most of what I could see was a massive cliff where the water would’ve run over. I could see that people on the Zimbabwean-side were getting a nice view of a portion of the falls that was still spewing up “smoke” but to cross over would mean paying for another visa so I enjoyed what I could from where I was and that was it. I also hiked down to the Boiling Point where the Zambezi River takes a 90 degree turn, causing the wall-splash in front of it to divert the water backwards, resulting what looks like boiling water. There were wild baboon-lookalike monkeys everywhere.
(All this is supposed to be covered with water)
(The Zimbabwean side still looks good but can’t see anything from the Zambia side)
(Standing at the ‘Boiling Point’)
(Monkey is not interested)
Took a 7-hour bus to Lusaka. On the recommendation of a hostel employee, I took a bus from a particular company called Mazhandu. It was comfortable, spacious, had good A/C, clean, and even showed ‘Legion’ on a screen to help passengers pass the time. I thought African buses were going to be a nightmare but this company was different.
Not much to say about Lusaka. My hostel sucked, it was a 15-minute walk to the main street, which was a boring place anyway. I turned in early but couldn’t sleep. Some pesky Italians were making so much noise outside I had to go tell them to go somewhere else to talk (please). My bus the next day was at 4:30 am so I had to wake up at 3:30 am. I was told the taxis hanging around in front during the day would be there at 4 am but of course, they weren’t. And because the security guards couldn’t call anyone to pick me up, I had to walk 15-20 minutes to the bus station on the dark streets of Lusaka, money and cards hidden in my socks of course.
(Traffic jams exist even in Africa)