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An account of a trip to Livingstone and Victoria Falls,

Friday 23rd-Saturday 31st October 1998

Friday 23 October - Independence Celebrations and disappointment in Kafue

On the morning of the day we left for our half-term break, the school celebrated Zambia's Independence from Britain on 24 October 1964.

Since the beginning of term in September, Lechwe School had been preparing for the Independence Assembly, which took place on the school patio this morning, starting at 8.30am - had it been any later the temperature would have been unbearable. The patio is a covered area by the swimming pool - ideal for this kind of performance. Groups from Reception up to Lower Secondary performed various African dances - spectacular with African costumes and painted faces and bodies. I directed the primary choir which sang a song from South Africa and the combined Primary and Secondary Choirs with a song composed by some children in Grade 7 (11-12 year olds). My colleague Paul directed the Primary and Secondary Samba Bands and we both encouraged the whole school in a part-song from Lesotho. The event closed with a fantastic staff dance - many dressed in traditional brightly-coloured African dress.

School finished for half term at 1pm, and by 2pm four of us were in the car heading south. Sharon and Ruth who came out to Zambia on the same flight as me in August, together with Keith (Head of English, originally from South Africa) and myself made up the party. The Principal, Garth, had generously offered to lend us his car (well, it's the school's really) and we headed to our first port of call, the Rimo River Motel near the town of Kafue, 50km south of the Zambian capital, Lusaka. Dave Morrison, our Deputy Head, had recommended the Rimo as a cheap place to stay. Well, it was cheap but that's as much as it had going for it. It had fans in the rooms (essential when the temperature gets no lower than 20ºC at night), but they didn't work. We had a meal in which the steak was so tough it hurt your hands to cut through it and Sharon's fish was undercooked. We went to bed cursing Mr Morrison…

Saturday 24 October - Arrival in Livingstone

After the previous evening's disappointment, we were hoping that breakfast would be rather better. We were disappointed again. The service was very slow and the waiter explained that he had been working at a function until 4.30am and had to be up again at 6am. Given those conditions, it was no wonder the service was below par. Unemployment is at such a high rate in Zambia that people will work under any conditions. No maximum hours or minimum wage - we reckoned he probably earned no more than £10-15 a month.

We left at 9am for Livingstone, another 400km away on the Zimbabwe border. The drive was pretty monotonous, the scenery hardly changing at all. We arrived at 3pm, having driven through the hottest part of the day at Nyala Lodge, owned by Keith's Zimbabwean cousin Moyra and her British husband Matt. Moyra informed us when we arrived that the temperature was currently 42ºC. Matt was at that stage in southern Zimbabwe and was due back on Monday.

The accommodation was in small rectangular thatched chalets. The walls were built up to about 4 feet high with mosquito mesh joining the walls to the steep roof. There was a separate ablution block (with the two halves named "he-po's" and "she-po's") so it felt a bit like camping. The lodge also had an open-air thatched bar next to a small pool where you could lounge while waiters brought you cool drinks. In addition, there was a separate kitchen where the chef prepared excellent, reasonably-priced meals and snacks. We were very happy to lounge around for the rest of the afternoon and to wait for dinner to be served. Just before dinner, we heard a car come racing into the car park and saw an extraordinary yellow buggy-like contraption screeching to a halt. Out jumped Patrick, a French Belgian who joined us for dinner. It turned out that he was involved in the company which runs the bungee jump off Victoria Falls Bridge and he invited us to go and watch the following day. After dinner, we retired, exhausted ater the day's travelling.

Sunday 25 October - Livingstone, Bungee Jumping and a cruise on the Zambezi

It was an amazing experience to wake up with the sounds of Africa coming in through the mosquito mesh. The breeze rustled through the bush and strange birdsong pierced the morning air. Moyra had told us that occasionally elephants came on to the estate and that she'd seen evidence of a leopard around the place. It made us warier than we might otherwise have been when wandering over to the shower block.

After breakfast, Ruth, Sharon and I decided to go and explore the town of Livingstone. It is named after the Scottish explorer, and many buildings are in the British colonial style. We wandered around the market, which was a typically African affair - smelly, colourful, bustling, although quieter than it would have been on other days of the week. Sharon (who is black and British) was told off by a man in the market for wearing shorts and showing her legs. He exclaimed "Cover your legs, you are a lady!" This was not the first time she had been hassled in Zambia - white women don't get bothered in that way. She bought a Chitenge, which is a large brightly designed cloth that women wrap around their waists.

We wandered up to a small park - an obvious throw-back to colonial days - where there was a large curio market. An ideal opportunity, we thought, for some early Christmas shopping! There were beautifully carved animals made of various woods, masks, malachite objects and various drums and African xylophones. We browsed around while each stall-holder desperately tried to make us part with our money. Some were successful and several purchases were made.

We then drove back past the lodge to the river. This section is just before the Falls and the river is wide and slow. At Livingstone Boat Club, people were arriving for an Independence weekend regatta and general jollity.

Remembering Patrick's promise to show us the bungee jump, we took the car down to the famous bridge to meet him. The Victoria Falls Bridge crosses the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe, so before we could walk along to it, we had to present our passports and explain what we were doing. We were given a gate pass and strolled out of Zambia onto a bridge spanning a gorge some 120 metres deep. Since it was the end of the dry season, the water was at its lowest, and from this point we could see only cliffs. At the end of the rainy season, these cliffs are hidden behind water plummeting at a rate of 9 million cubic metres per second. No wonder the local name for the Falls is Mosi-oa-Tunya (The Smoke that Thunders).

Facing away from the Falls, on a platform protruding from the middle of the bridge, were the bungee jump people. There was little activity - October is their quietest month - and Patrick greeted us with typically Gallic insouciance. He tried to persuade Sharon to jump, but she said that she was wearing the wrong clothes and that she had no money (jumping doesn't come cheaply - US$90 a go). Patrick told her not to worry about the money and took us back to the company's little cabin on the Zambian side of the bridge. There she was told to stand on a pair of scales and was led back to the platform. It became clear that she was going to be jumping for nothing. Patrick attached her to the 111 metre long elastic rope and she stood at the edge of the platform. She was told to watch the horizon and to hold her arms out horizontally. Then: "Counting: Five, Four, Three, Two, One, BUNGEE" and she hurtled towards the Zambezi. She bounced up and gave us a wave and then hung upside down while a man winched down to pick he up. Quite extraordinary!

At 4pm, we hurried back to Nyala where Keith and Moyra were waiting for us to go on a dinner cruise on the Zambezi, which Moyra had arranged. We went back to the Boat Club where festivities were continuing and boarded our little boat, which we had to ourselves. The price included as much wine, beer and soft drinks as you could consume, dinner and guides to tell us about what we were looking at. As soon as we left the river bank, one of the guides spotted a herd of elephants crossing the river, and the boat headed off to investigate. We watched from afar as these huge animals swam across with their trunks aloft so that they could breathe. However, by the time we got closer, they had all disappeared into the vegetation and were out of sight.

The boat then took on a more leisurely speed as we sipped wine and enjoyed the river. Before long, we spotted a group of about seven hippos in the river, cooling themselves. One opened its mouth wide open to warn us not to get any closer - a warning which we took little persuasion to heed! Apparently, despite being vegetarian, hippos kill more people than any other animal as they are very protective of each other.

At this point, before the Falls, the Zambezi is around 4km wide and there are several islands in the middle. We sailed around the tip of the longest island as the sun gradually approached the horizon, and as Impala antelope stood watching us from the side. We heard a rustle and a cracking sound from the bank, and there was the fantastic sight of an elephant reaching with its trunk to grab leaves from the tops of trees to feed itself. A few yards further down the bank, another elephant emerged and they stood chomping away, oblivious to us staring in amazement from the river. By the time we reached the other end of the island, the sun was very low and once more the elephant population made its presence known, although this time there were about twelve of them feeding on a promontory - a truly awesome sight. We returned to our chalets, amazed at the visual feast we had witnessed.

Monday 26 October - Animals, more Bungee and swimming by the Smoke that Thunders

After a leisurely couple of hours lazing in the pool in the morning sun (already hot at 8am), we decided to take a trip into Mosi-oa-Tunya National Park. It's a very small game park and also very cheap - only about £1.50 for the car and three people (Ruth, Sharon and me).

We saw dozens of antelope of various kinds, mostly Impala and Kudu as well as zebras, baboons and a family group of white rhino, which was basking in the shade away from the midday sun. We had all visited zoos and safari parks in the UK, but of course this was rather different. Animals were free to roam throughout the park feeding themselves and some could travel across the river into the Victoria Falls National Park, Zimbabwe. Oddly, in the middle of all these natural sights, there was a cemetery in which was buried around 15 early settler from Britain. All had died around the same time in the late 1890's of Malaria.

Following lunch, we had another appointment at the bridge with Patrick. This time, Ruth had decided to fling herself off. She had done two bungee jumps previously off cranes in London for charity, but this certainly beat them for scenic value. Again, Patrick went through the routine of attaching her to the bungee rope and telling her she was crazy. Then, with her legs tied together, she shuffled to the edge of the bridge, waited for the countdown and plunged into the gorge, bouncing so high that for a second she was upright again.

Patrick had promised to take us to a natural pool at the top of the Falls. We took the cars back through the customs barrier into Zambia and turned into another entrance of the Mosi-oa-Tunya National Park. We parked up and then started to walk across rocks just a few metres away from 100-metre cliffs which formed a sheer drop into the gorge below. We had a fantastic view of the bridge with the crazy people launching themselves off and bouncing up with the aid of the bungee rope. This walk is only possible towards the end of the dry season, as the Zambezi fills up to this point as the rain water filters down from Northern Zambia and Eastern Angola.

We picked our way over the rocks for about a mile in the heat of the afternoon sun, stopping to look along the gorge at the column of spray which was being thrown up by the falls further along. Eventually, our path was blocked by a pool of calm water, so we removed our shoes and socks and gingerly picked our way through the rocky pool on to an islet. From there, the power of the Mosi-oa-Tunya could be fully appreciated. The smoke truly was thundering and creating wonderful rainbow effects. We walked to the edge of the islet and lowered ourselves into another calm pool, this time just a few metres away from the edge. There was no danger of falling over (unless you were foolish enough to swim to where there was a current) and it was amazing to feel the wafts of spray from the Falls cooling us down. We pulled ourselves out onto a rocky ledge where it was possible to look down the sheer cliffs below and to appreciate the amazing rainbows.

Picking our way back along the cliff-top, Patrick led us down to another pool, a few metres below the top. He assured us that tourists never go here and that it gave a wonderful view of the gorge and the Falls. It was quite true, although it was rather worrying to be standing on smooth rocks with a sheer drop below.

On our way back to Nyala, we were in for another unexpected treat. Our way was blocked as around 25 elephants wandered across the road in front of us. They ranged from young creatures around 1.5m tall to huge adults in excess of 3m with huge tusks gleaming white. They seemed oblivious to our presence and were obviously keen to find some more trees to devour. Ironically, since governments have been imposing heavy penalties on poachers (Zimbabwe has a shoot-to-kill policy!) the elephant population has increased to a point where they are causing massive damage to the vegetation. An adult eats around 250kg per day, but in order to do that it destroys around a tonne of trees and other plants. We had seen in the game park earlier the devastation they had left in their wake and it is clear that it could cause a big problem if the population grows significantly higher. Ironically, organised hunting seems to be the answer. People from abroad pay huge sums to come to Africa on hunting expeditions, and many are keen to shoot elephants. For the privilege, they must pay US$50,000 and give the meat to the local people. Locals have been persuaded that they can live much better if they let organised hunting provide funds for them rather than poaching, so in this way the animal population can be controlled much more effectively.

On arriving back at Nyala, it was clear that Moyra was rather worried. She had been expecting Matt to arrive back earlier and had just received a phone call saying that he had had an accident near Bulawayo and his car had been written off. He was to catch the early morning bus and she was to meet him in Victoria Falls town, just the other side of the border.

Tuesday 27 October - Across the border

Moyra had to go over the border to Victoria Falls town to meet Matt so we decided to combine this with a shopping trip. The Zimbabwe Dollar had suffered a collapse even more dramatic than the Zambian Kwacha recently - at Easter there were Z$25 to the pound and now there were Z$55. Consequently, most things are considerably cheaper than in Zambia and there are many more things available, so it was an ideal chance for some more Christmas shopping.

We reached the border post again and this time we all had to get out and get our passports stamped. We had obtained re-entry visas in Kitwe so that we wouldn't have to pay US$56 for a new visa to get back to Zambia. We had to fill in a customs declaration for the car and then drive over the bridge into Zimbabwe. Once there, we had to get out again for more stamps and we proceeded to the gate. However, we were stopped and had to pay US$3 for insurance on the car. For those of us used to driving through European land borders, this was quite a palaver!

On reaching Victoria Falls town we were confronted by dozens of people offering to change money, but we had been warned to avoid them and so went to the row of banks with cash machines. There are so few such machines in Zambia that this was quite a novelty!

By this time it was lunchtime, so we went to a pizza restaurant and ate extremely well for about £2. Towards the end of the meal, Moyra arrived with Matt who looked pretty exhausted after his ordeal. We split up and went on our shopping expeditions. There were shops catering for backpackers and many curio shops as well as sports, clothing and shoe shops. Everything was so much cheaper than in Zambia and I managed to get almost all of my Christmas shopping - a feat not usually achieved before Christmas Eve! I also managed to get postcards - strangely elusive on the Zambian side of the Falls.

Moyra had taken the exhausted Matt back to Nyala so Keith, Sharon, Ruth and I met up at the Victoria Falls Hotel for High Tea. It's listed in many guides as one of the top hotels in the world and costs around US$200 per night. It is built in the colonial style (white inside and out) with beautifully kept lawns. The walls are filled with maps and images dating back to the time of the British Empire, and one had to wonder whether the management had realised that the Empire was over. Tea was served in china cups and accompanied by smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches, scones and cakes served on a silver cake stand. The terrace on which we sat had a fantastic view across the lush green lawns down to the Victoria Falls Bridge with the column of spray behind. Every so often, a baboon would cross the lawn and climb up a tree, and one even marched across the balcony and attempted to get into one of the rooms. For this wonderful treat we paid a little over £2!

We filled up with petrol (10p per litre) and headed back to the bureaucracy of the border, again getting out of the car at each side for passport stamps.

Wednesday 28 October - White water madness

Ruth, Sharon and I had set today aside for a rafting expedition along the Batoka Gorge below the Falls on the Lower Zambezi. Sharon, who teaches PE, was worried that her knee was troubling her and that the trip may make it worse. So Ruth and I were picked up from Nyala at 8am for a day of speed and water.

We met up with the other mad people who had paid US$70 each for the privilege and were told about the safety procedures. We were asked to sign a form indemnifying Bundu (the rafting company) against any injury or death resulting from the day's activity. This did not fill us with confidence. We donned our lifejackets and helmets, took a paddle each and set off down to the "boiling pot" at the foot of the gorge. The Victoria Falls cascade into a gorge which drains into another gorge at right angles to the first. It was at this point that the trip started at Rapid 1. We boarded our raft and were given the instructions by our guide Malika from Quebec, who had been a member of the Canadian women's team in this year's world rafting championships.

In total, there were 18 rapids to be negotiated, many of which were classed 4 or 5 on the 6-grade scale. We skirted across the first rapid and paddled down to the second and third. So far, everything was easy with the calm water between the rapids giving us ample chance to take in the dramatic surroundings. On our left the cliffs were Zambian and on the right they were Zimbabwean. Then came Rapid 4. We approached, following Malika's shouted instructions: "Forward", "Stop", "Back-paddle", "Get down". We had practised all of these at the start - at the signal "Get down" we were supposed to crouch inside the raft, holding onto the rope at its side. However, I crouched too late and ended up tipping over into the warm waters of the Zambezi, still clinging to the rope. I became the day's first swimmer - a "short swimmer" as I'd managed to keep hold of the rope.

Confidence dented, we headed for Rapid 5, a Class 5 rapid, and the biggest commercially rafted rapid in the world. This time, we all managed to keep on board and were all satisfied with the adrenaline rush achieved through conquering this part of the Zambezi.

As Rapid 6 approached, Malika pointed out the small whirlpools which were now around us. She then told us that Rapid 6 was known as "The Devil's Toilet-Bowl" as there was a huge whirlpool immediately beyond it. She gave us instructions in case the rafted flipped over and if we got caught in the whirlpool. As we went over the rapid Malika shouted at us to "Get down" again, and the boat flipped over. Suddenly, I was underneath the boat and as I tried to get out, I lost my grip on the rope. I felt myself being spun round and pulled down, and realised that I was indeed in the whirlpool. As instructed, I let my lifejacket do its job, and within a few seconds I was pushed back to the surface. We all hung onto the rope as Malika pulled another rope attached across the underneath of the raft to right it again.

Rapid 7, the longest on the route was negotiated successfully and we were feeling pleased with ourselves as we approached Rapid 7½. This time, the raft's front was forced upwards to a near vertical position, and both Ruth and I were thrown into the river once again. This time we were "long swimmers" as we were not holding onto the boat.

As we approached Rapid 8, I was feeling that three times in the water was enough. We were given the choice of going right, where there was a one in five chance of flipping, or left, where the chance was one in two. Fortunately, we decided to go right and were successful again. The other two rafts that were with us went left and the second one flipped, throwing its rafters into the rapid. It was our job to pick them up and stop the raft from going any further.

Rapid 9 is a Class 6 rapid and as such is not suitable for commercial rafters. We had to paddle to the side and drag our raft around it. We stopped to watch the kayakers who had accompanied us for safety purposes negotiating the water with consummate skill.

By this stage, I had decided that I'd had enough and Malika told me that I could get out after Rapid 10. After a swig of orange juice, I started the long slog up to the top of the gorge - a 750 foot climb. By the time I got to the top, I couldn't wait to collapse into the truck that was to take us to the cliff above Rapid 18 to meet the rest. On the way, we spotted a buffalo and picked up a group of about 20 men and boys from a village of mud huts on the way. It turned out that these people had the unenviable task of dragging the deflated rafts and other equipment up the gorge. On arriving at the meeting point where there were covered areas for eating, the men busily prepared the food which was provided for the rafters. I wandered around the barren, dry area, looking across the gorge into Zimbabwe and waited for the others to arrive.

After the meal of cold meats and salads washed down with Zambeer, we were returned, exhausted, to Nyala Lodge. About half an hour later, Keith arrived having done the "Flight of Angels" in a Microlight over the Falls. Steve, the pilot, was a friend of Moyra's and joined us for a drink.

Thursday 29 October - Recovery

We spent a lazy morning by the pool before going into Livingstone again to the bank and post office to sort out payment for accommodation (which came to less than £100, including all drinks and food) and to post our postcards. The afternoon was spent relaxing again, listening to the BBC World Service's reports on the publication of the report of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Keith is a member of the ANC, and so it held particular interest for him.

Patrick had suggested that we went to have a meal at a place called Kubu Cabins. It turned out that this was 20km away and we weren't happy about driving all that way in the dark. Instead, we decided to eat at the "Funky Monkey", a newly-opened restaurant in Livingstone. Seven of us (Moyra, Ruth, Sharon, Keith, Matt, Patrick and I) sat at a table on a raised terrace and were served Satay, deep-fried cheese, bream and steaks, all washed down with South African Chardonnay. Steve joined us for a drink at the end of the meal.

Friday 30 October - Livingstone to Lusaka

We had decided to start early to avoid the worst of the heat. Steve had recommended a place to stay in Lusaka called Wayside Farm. Having left Nyala at 6.30am, we arrived at Wayside at 1pm. The accommodation was very comfortable and a relief after the disappointment of the Rimo on the way down.

Keith and Ruth wanted to relax so Sharon and I went into the city. I needed to go to the South African Airways office to sort out my trip to England at Christmas. Their offices had recently moved from the city centre and were located in the middle of a labyrinth of side streets in a rather attractive upmarket area called Woodlands. We then decided to explore Cairo Road, the main street. This was part of Cecil Rhodes's plan to build a road from Cairo to Cape Town and was bustling with life. There were smart stores, banks, restaurants and small run-down shops.

In the evening, we all went to eat at the Spur Steak House at the Holiday Inn. It was like stepping straight back into the First World with self-service salad bars, glossy menus and falsely-smiling waiting staff. We had a peek into the Holiday Inn and its Irish pub - not completely convincing as it didn't even serve Guinness!

Saturday 31 October - Homeward bound