Livingstone, I presume, and Victoria Falls





We sleep in until 6.30am this morning,  

which for us is a real lie in.  Hils, Gary and I go up to the restaurant in search of a decent cup of coffee, our first in a month.  We find the restaurant serves instant coffee only but we buy it anyway and sit gazing out over the morning-still river admiring the reflections and watching the occasional hippo making its way across.  It is quiet, peaceful, idyllic.  Back at camp our cook has prepared breakfast for us and we can hardly believe our eyes at the banquet laid out...cereal, eggs, mushrooms, bacon, fruit, yogurt, toast with tea and coffee.  What a feast!  We all fall on it like starving wolves.  Mike is surprised when we tell him how wonderful it is.  He says that this is the sort of breakfast we should have been having all the time we were in the wilderness, thereby confirming our suspicions about our less than exciting breakfasts in Botswana. We have a deliciously lazy time until late morning when Mike takes us into Livingstone for a look around town.




 It is a pretty little place with wide streets, large shady trees and attractive plantation style houses with deep cool verandas framed by scarlet bougainvillea tumbling over stone walls.  Hils and I agree that if we were to live in Africa we could comfortably live in Livingstone. We also notice there is a strong Roman Catholic presence in the town in the form of schools, churches and even a cathedral.  After a quick tour of the town Mike drops us off at a supermarket car park and says he will meet us there later.  We stroll up towards the craft market, about a kilometre away, through  colourful crowds of  people out socialising and shopping.   On our way we notice a number of AIDS awareness and anti-corruption billboards.  Mike had also told us earlier that there is a huge problem with teenage pregnancies in Zambia.  He, a Botswanan, was quite scathing about it and said that it is usually because young people want to get away from the strict  rules of their parents.  He said that the young people end up isolated from their families, dropping out of their education and not coping emotionally, practically or financially. Without the great welfare safety net that there is in New Zealand, their children are destined for a life of poverty. 

 

 

We pick and poke our way up town in the searing heat and are very pleased to arrive at the cool shade of the craft arcade. We walk the length of it looking at the stalls which are all selling the same things, African masks, fabric, carved bowls and  animals.  We feel a bit guilty about not buying anything because we would like to support the locals however we have luggage constraints and there is nothing much that appeals.  Back at camp we swim and rest and go to the restaurant for lunch.  Service is incredibly slow and we have just enough time to gobble down our meals before boarding the truck to go to Victoria Falls. 



 





 Arriving at Victoria we walk through some pretty bush, stopping to look at the statue of David Livingstone, the first European explorer to discover the falls, before getting our first glimpse of them.  Although the flow is greatly reduced because of a long dry season they are still beautiful;.  Long cascades of water thunder down the cliff face to the valley below,  rainbows glisten everywhere and gentle spray cools our faces.  Apparently the view is better from the Zimbabwe side of the falls but, due to the political situation there, it is a no-go zone for us. To one side of the falls  a bridge linking Zimbabwe and Zambia arches across the deep canyon. The border between the two countries is right in the center of the bridge. We gaze across at Zimbabwe and wander along the beautiful bush tracks adjacent to the falls.  The tracks wind  closely to the edge of sheer vertical drops and we are astonished at the absence of safety barriers.  We can hardly bear to watch a group of six young tourists leaping from rock pool to rock pool right on the edge of the waterfall, seemingly oblivious to the dangers and  we wonder what their parents would think if they knew what they were up to. Sadly a guide lost his life here recently trying to save a tourist who slipped from a rock pool. 

There is a craft market at the entry to the falls but it is "same old, same old" and we give it only a cursory glance, stopping briefly to listen to a traditional musician, before heading back to camp.  This evening we are having our group farewell dinner so we shower, primp, preen and put on the best clothes we can find before going to the restaurant.  There is a glorious sunset, which is rather symbolic, we think, since we are now coming to the end of our trip.  We sip our drinks and chat, enjoying the ambiance of our surroundings until it is ruined by a  large cruise boat which pulls up at the jetty beside us full of very rowdy, drunk young tourists who are travelling around Africa on  the infamous overland trucks. They shout, yell, call out to each other, sing badly and generally make real pests of themselves.  When they are finally forced to leave the boat they move to the bar in the restaurant, even closer to us and stay for most of the evening.  It is a disappointment and ruins what should be a very enjoyable evening for us.  We are surprised that the management of the hotel allows it because everyone in the restaurant is annoyed but we guess the young people spend freely and are a good source of revenue.  Service is, once again, painfully slow so Cherry goes around our table and takes every one's orders and hands the list to the waitress.  That speeds things up and eventually the rowdy young people leave so we can enjoy what's left of our evening in peace.  We are all happy, enjoying each other's company and sharing memories of our adventure.  I make a short speech, thanking Raewyn, on behalf of the group.  She has been a wonderful guide, positive, calm, sensible, diplomatic  and great fun.  The meal is so-so, my deep fried feta is tasty but the pancakes are as rubbery as a car tyre and smothered in an unpleasant sticky syrup.  It doesn't matter, though, I am happy and we all wander back to camp relaxed and cheerful.

Photos: (1) Early morning coffee by the tranquil Zambezi, (2) Typical plantation style house in Livingstone, (3) Primary school mission statement, Livingstone.... (4)....and some of the students.  The boys are knitting.  We saw a lot of students walking around town knitting, (5) Victoria Falls, the flow is low because it is the dry season, (6) The bridge between Zambia and Zimbabwe, (7) With Hilary at Victoria Falls, (8) Traditional musician, Victoria Falls