Lion Attack!

First of all I just need to point out we have made three installments at once as we have been in the bush for a while and are now back in civilization so you’ll find the other two installments below, this being the latest. After Bovu Island we caught another pick up out of the bush, back to civilization, without being stuck once which is quite a feat by the driver loaded up with people and their detritus. Once back in Livingstone we found some currency dealers who sold us some Zimbabwean dollars. At first you think it is fake money, as it’s not really money at all. They look more like cheques you would have printed in a supermarket. And my lord do you get a lot of them! I only change US$50 and I could not fit the resulting Zim$ into my pocket, I was given a carrier bag. The Zim economy has gone completely down the drain in the last few years under Mugabe’s dictatorship. For example, a friend we met bought their massive house in 2 acres of land about 15yrs ago for Zim$18,000, now you can get a small bottle of coke for that. The economy is running away from them at such a rate that they can’t print new notes anymore so these cheques are passed around, and even these they can’t print in large enough sums as in Jan a coke would be Zim$10,000 the second biggest note and the in Feb it was $20,000. In the place we stayed they had to put the price up regularly to keep up, their inflation rate is around 1000%. You literally have to carry your money around in a separate bag. So loaded up with Zim$ we headed for the border at Victoria Falls into Zimbabwe with some trepidation from the stories you hear. A brief stop at the bungee jump bridge just to confirm the price was too much ;-) and then onto the Zim border. In Zimbabwe we made a bee line straight for the train station. The station is out of the 50’s, it was a tidy station with all the English style of little gardens out on the platform and a big station sign with the plain clock over the station. The trains were a relic as well, kept in very good condition and due to the fuel shortages in Zim, some trains still use steam, but alas ours was diesel. Our two birth cabin came with pull down bunks, pull down sink with interwoven RR embossed on the mirrors and décor. Amazingly, and something that never ceased to surprise us in Zim, the train left on time to the minute. While on the train we met a woman from Botswana, Agnes, who we helped get into her cabin, as she locked herself out, using the trusty toolkit Gem and Rich gave us for Xmas. In exchange we were handed an assortment of bracelets and necklaces and a general mothering when we looked a little lost, our very own Mme Ramotswe. When we arrived in Bulawayo David, Dinah’s husband, picked us up from the station to take us back to their house for afternoon tea. Their house is amazing, an old farm house from the days when Bulawayo was a small town now swallowed up into the suburbs. Here we met their 2 kids Cullan(2) and Garrick(3 weeks). Dinah had organized us a friend’s lodge to stay at as putting up with another two kids on top of her own was asking a bit much! We moved into our lodge and in the evening went back for dinner. Dinahs mum, Judy, made it as well which was surprise for us. Jo had met Judy when they visited England a few years back, and broke out the photos of the trip. Dave in the meantime did his best to empty his drinks cabinet on us, and after a wonderful meal (fried eggs, beef and salad – okay it does not sound much but when you’ve been surviving on Nsima and beans for the last few months this was a magnificent feast) we crashed out in a happy contented heap in our room. The following day, after a very long hangover induced slumber we headed for the city centre. To our delight it was large, spacious and clean compared to other African cities. The spacious feel comes from the design of the wide streets that were made this wide as you had to be able to do a u-turn with a cart pulled by 4(or 6?) oxen. It was such a contrast, the streets were quite lacking the hustle and bustle we had experienced before, no harassment for being white and wealthy and no guns anywhere. We spent a pleasant day exploring the shops and cafes. As the money market is in such a state we were told not to use banks for changing money but to use the black market as everyone is after foreign currency to invest in. We managed to get 50% extra this way for our US$. We did swap a little in a bank though to get the official receipt, which came in useful later. Loaded up, and I mean that literally, with Zim$ we headed out to Gweru, 2hrs east of Bulawayo, to a place called Antelope Park. This is a magical little place where you can walk with lions, swim with elephants, ride horses and go on safaris. On our first evening we opted for walking with lions. Antelope Park has a breeding program for lions, where the intention is to breed a good number of lions to repopulate parts of Africa with, starting with Zambia, what Zambia thinks of this we don’t know, maybe its some new African Weapons program. The lions are hand reared and then released into Antelope Safari Park as part of phase 1 of the programme, but they remain human friendly. We walked out to where a female called Athena and two males, Achilles and Apollo, were basking in the sun, sleeping. A rather nervous bunch of tourists and our intrepid guide strolled straight up to them, and after a quick brief on not getting to close to the sharp bits, we walked up to them, stroking them, rubbing their tummies and generally cooing all over the poor things. Occasionally they got a little ‘playful’ and we had to give them a sharp smack on the side of their heads, which isn’t as hard as it sounds as you’re terrified of winding them up too much. In one playful moment when I was rubbing a lions tummy he tried to grab my hand in his two claws, just like a widdle puddy tat, but with massive razor sharp claws and fangs, in the process giving me a quite respectable scratch on the back of my hand ( I am now picking at the scab in the hope it will scar). Jo bonded with the female lion who took a liking to her, thankfully as a play thing not lunch. The morning after I awoke very unwell, in the process convincing myself I had rabies, but after a little TLC from Jo and an aspirin felt much better. Jo went for a swim with the elephants. These are orphaned elephants that are earning their keep by letting people sit on their back while the elephant has a wash/swim. We weren’t too happy about this and left feeling a little guilty for the poor creatures, although they do spend the rest of the time with their herd in the park. Our final day at the park we went on a horse riding safari, as the animals will let you get closer if you’re on horseback. This meant of course a quick lesson in riding horses, and I mean quick. Within half an hour the guide had us cantering western style (i.e. like the cowboys reins in one hand with a hand free for waving at the camera and other cowboy stuff) around the training ground, I hadn’t even mastered the trot yet! This did not seem to bother the guide, as Jo had shown good abilities and made up for my deficiencies. The ride in the safari park was a lovely mix of riding up to the game and seeing the wildlife close up in the magnificent setting as well as hair raising canters across the bush. In the same evening we went to feed the lion cubs with massive pieces of meat. Quite a sight as they in turn devoured their own and then turned on their siblings for scraps. Now the reason the receipt mentioned above came in useful was tourist centres will only accept foreign currency, unless you can show that you legally changed your money at a bank. So where as if we paid in US$ it would have been $250, we paid in Zim$ an amount of $6,500,000 equivalent of US$48. Thankfully we had heard of this trick from a fellow traveler we had met in Zanzibar. It pays to talk. When we made it back to Bulawayo Judy had left us an invite for afternoon tea. It was a very informative evening. Judy and her husband Mike are well connected in opposition politics within Zimbabwe and really know their stuff. We spent the evening discussing over a few local whiskies the ins and outs of local and international politics. Mike had recently had his family farm taken from him for no compensation by the government. As we found out this is not a black and white thing but a vote killer. The white farmers don’t really bother Mugabe, it’s the votes of the black workers on these farms, by destroying these farms he is destroying his opposition, the families are dispersed and the schools are closed. Mugabe tries to stay credible by holding elections and he can’t afford the opposition like this. Not all white farms are requisitioned by the government, it is exclusively MDC supporting farms. During the independence war their were two main parties involved Zanu PF (trained by the Chinese) and another (trained by the Russians), at the end of the war, Mugabe gained power as his tribe (Xhosa) is larger than the Matebele. Mugabe then enforced his rule by murdering 50,000 Matebele people within the first few months. Tony Blair, knew this and withdrew our aid to Zimbabwe, and decision supported by the opposition. This threw Mugabe into a rage. A further tactic he used, from the Chinese training, was to publicly execute a prominent supporter (in this case a white farmer) within in each region as a reminder. Since then he has maintained grip on power through terror and strictly controlling food supplies, feeding supporters. If you want to eat, support Mugabe. The country is in trouble, but the opposition is gaining strength slowly from both major tribes, people feel quite confident things will change soon. I heard this same story from everyone I met there be they black, white, rich and poor. I hope it does change for them because Zimbabwe was full of the friendliest people, nothing like what we were expecting. A bonus to the evening was a visit from Judy and Mike friend Didimus. Didimus is an MP in the Zimbabwe government for MDC, the opposition. A very brave man indeed, to be in opposition is to always fear for your life. A few attempts had been made on him, but so far he has managed to stay with us, thanks to God. Didimus is also high up in the Zimbabwe church. This later did throw me, as we found out MDC, in the time they are needed most is about to split over the issue of running for senate a position set up by Mugabe to reward friends who had not made the elections. He told of members within his own party being tortured by their own leaders’ goons to keep them in line. Being a man of the church I was surprised when he did not condemn these actions, saying he has to continue to support the leadership. All in all an enlightening evening. Judy, Mike if you read this, please post a comment to correct any mistakes in my understanding of the situation. Over the week, Dinah and family were wonderful to us, looking after us, feeding us and generally making us feel welcome. Contrary to our fears the Zimbabwean people were the friendliest in Africa, always interested in our travels and always open to telling us of the Zimbabwean situation. Before we could leave the country though we had to find SA rands to pay a bus to take us across the border, understandably they would not take Zim$, this meant a trip back into the black market. Names have been changed to protect the innocent….Mrs X dropped us into the warehouse district of Bulawayo where we were instructed to find a Mr A in a specified office in a wholesalers. On contact Mr A was missing, so we were sent to Mr B who said to come back in 2hrs. On returning to Mr B there were too many strangers around so was advised to wait around the corner. 10 minutes later two of Mr Bs goons whispered to me he was ready, I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible (not easy being the only white man in sight) as I made my way into the warehouse where the exchange was made. Mr B chuckled as I counted the money and held random notes to the light, trying to look a pro, he copied to a mass of guffaws from the goons. I slipped out a side door and dissolved into the streets. Tickets purchased and we were off to SA.

Bovu Island - Paradise on the Zambezi

First of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAYS!! to Lisa, Emily (sorry it's late!), Mum for Friday and Louisa for Sat. 29th January. We arranged to leave Livingstone by pickup to Bovu Island, 40km upstream of Victoria Falls. The last part of the journey was through bumpy, puddle filled bush tracks to the river bank where we were met by mokoro canoe and paddled to the island. Stepping out of the canoe and up the stone steps to the bar, we were ambushed by Spillage, L'il Bugs and Bugs (see last entry) who thrust chocolate cake and fizzy at us and welcomed us to join Spillage's birthday celebrations! Brett and Evelyn (the owners) then gave us our complimentary free welcome drinks before we were shown around the facilities by Harriet. It was a gorgeous camp with a really organic feel to it. The separate areas within the camp (library, bar, camping kitchen, huts, showers and loos) were all joined by sandy footpaths, made with termite mound earth, winding through dense woodland and tropical plants. Some of the paths took you to the ends of the island while others ended unexpectedly at another hut over looking the river, or staff quarters, or camping spot, which is where we pitched our tent. The rooms were built around tree trunks and nature had been left alone or incorporated into the structures whereever possible. Showering was a wonderful experience, big spaces with sandy floors, lovely hot water heated by a wood burning stove and no roof so you could search in the trees for birds and listen to all the varied bird calls. We planned to stay 3 nights but this was soon extended to a week as we found lots to do, as well as reading lots. Behind the bar Brett and Evelyn had a big collection of silly hats which had either been donated or bought by themselves, friends or visitors. With lots of red wine (bought on a necessary trip to Botswana by Bugs) we spent one evening donning hats of various shapes and sizes and having a very jolly night. The next morning Dave felt really rough and didn't feel too fresh, but despite this we were up bright and early to meet Godfrey who we had arranged to take us on a walk to the local villages, clinic and school. He did warn us that it was a long walk but we felt it would do us good. The paths on the way were very muddy and slippery so I decided to follow the locals and walked barefoot which did help me to stay upright and it was lovely feeling the squidgey mud ooze between your toes. Dave kept his trusty boots on as they have excellent grips. We walked through several very small villages with mud huts and leaf rooves (like other African countryside villages we had seen in Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Malawi and Zambia) before arriving at the health clinic which had been built partly with government money and partly with proceeds donated to the community of fifteen villages by the Bovu Island Camp (called Jungle Junction). The Jungle Junction staff was made up of members of the surrounding villages and the money from the camp was used for whatever the community decided. The health clinic has been built quite recently and was avery smart, clean building, run by Josephine the nurse among others. Josephine showed us her room and the kits she used to test patients for malaria as well as the drugs they used. A list of test results showed over 20% to be positive throughout January and we learned that some of the negative ones could be wrong due to the nature of the malaria parasite only being traceable in the blood during fever. The Zambezi during the rainy season is a hotspot for malaria carried by the female anopheles mosquito who drinks blood and nectar, whereas the male only drinks nectar. Josephine let us weigh ourselves on the clinic scales and Dave has lost 2.5 stone! For several weeks now he has gone by the name 'Skinny Marie' after the character in Pretty Woman (Gem and Rich will know ;-)). On arrival at the clinic the torrential downpour of the day had begun. Godfrey (who told us he has 2 wives which is normal, one local man has 4) explained to us that this year had seen a great deal of rain and the previous few years very little. Although it had been good up until now, if this amount continued to fall the crops would again fail. So we hung around the clinic for a while waiting for a lull in the torrent. Eventually we made it to the school. Nearly all of the teachers were in a 'meeting' that day, but Banji was able to introduce us to some of the classes and each class that we walked in to see, stood and welcomed us before being allowed to sit again. They had been set work and were all quietly getting on with it, although our entrance did cause quite a lot of excitement. Banji explained how there were too many classes for the number of rooms so the daily timetable had been split into two. Class 7 (age 15) were in class 2's usual room for the afternoon and class 2 had gone home. Banji said how many children did not come to school and there was a maximum number of days of absence allowed before the parents were asked to meet with the teacher. Generally a day a week off was acceptable with no questions asked. Some parents preferred the children to stay at home to work and the teachers tried to intervene to prevent them from being permanently excluded. We took some photos and promised to send copies to the camp who would pass them on. It was still rainy heavily but we had already waited a long time so decided to make a dash for it. On returning the same route we came, we found a fast flowing river crossing our path and back tracked to find an alternative. Walking back was much harder, 2 hours of wading through knee deep streams which had suddenly sprung up and sliding around all over the place in the mud. I ended up in the mud three times - all good fun when you know it's a one off experience. The children are expected walk to school and back monday to friday. The school had been built halfway between the 15 villages and for those living further away it must be extremely difficult. Banji said many children became ill due to the walk and then sitting in the cold classrooms in the winter which had no electricity supply. Over the next few days the sun shone incessantly, great news for the maize and hopefully the school kids too. Dave arranged to go out fishing with Anton and I went along for a relaxing mokoro ride. Dave had the spin fishing technique mastered but alas, as is typical of fishing, only managed to catch some weed and a couple of branches. Anton explained that they liked to hide in the warmer deeper water and Dave agreed to try again after lunch. This time Dave and Paul (Bugs) went out fishing with Anton and I went for a late afternoon punt down the river in the glorious sunshine with Spillage and L'il Bugs. We relaxed while George pushed us along and seranaded us with his magnificent deep voice. We passed the boys' boat to find them well chuffed that Dave had caught us all a 4.5lb Nembwe, a dark olive green bream, for dinner. Don't ask Dave about it though, because the 'monster' is getting larger and larger with each rendition of the story. After a few nights camping Brett very generously had us upgraded to an A frame hut on stilts overlooking the river, to where I had tracked three otters upstream playing in the rain a couple of days before. I had found the hut and sheltered from the rain, hoping to catch more glimpses of the otters. On the platform under the shelter was a mossie net style tent containing 2 comfy mattresses. Great stuff. With only the net separating you from the wildlife, it was very exciting, and extremely loud one night when a cicada 'singing' so loudly I had to stuff loo paper in my ears! The day after Alison, Shorene (sorry if I've spelt this wrong L'il Bugs!) and Paul set off for Botswana (after a videoed group butterfly impression - please e-mail it to us :-)) we returned to 'Fawlty Towers' in Livingstone the same way we arrived, feeling thoroughly refreshed and relaxed.

Near Death at the Midnight Diner and Turmoil in the Washing Machine

After treating ourselves in a big city, it was time to move on, a little rendition of the littlest hobo and then it was packs on backs and off to the bus stop. We arrived far too early and were rewarded by being upgraded to the earlier bus. This is quite unusual as we try and arrive just in time knowing in Africa buses never, ever leave on time and usually take a few hours after departure time to fill. We arrived later that day after a very pleasant journey in Livingstone. Every backpacker that goes through Africa will go to Livingstone, its some archaic law or something, you feel it in your blood, calling. We saw our first white person within minutes of getting off the bus. Due to the masses of backpackers, there is a thriving taxi industry here, we estimated there were more taxis in Livingstone than the whole of Zambia (we never used one because we are hardcore backpackers, or tight, your pick). Livingstone is quite a small town, only one major road through it, a small market, a museum to Mr Livingstone and liberally sprinkled with lodges and adventure companies. Livingstone is the base for venturing out to Victoria Falls, bungee jumping, white water rafting, gorge swinging etc. We found the camp we were looking for, via a bar, just in time before a massive storm hit and drowned the streets. The following morning, we went to see the famous Victoria Falls, only a few km down the main road towards Zimbabwe. The falls are 1km wide and a few hundred meters high, and being the rainy season they were magnificent with the flooded Zambezi pouring at 5,000,000 litres a second off the top. The spray was everywhere, and hence water proofs were necessary to get within visual range. We watched from the Zambia side of falls, and ventured down the the Boiling Pot, a steep walk down the gorge to where the waters converge after the fall into the lower Zambezi. We spent the day exploring the various paths around the falls and up to the upper Zambezi where you can sit close to the edge. We also managed to walk into a middle of a pack of marauding baboons at one point, surrounded by them, taking absolutely no notice of us. From the falls you can see the the eXtreme sports, and we counted our cash, and decided what we wanted to do. I wanted to bungee but the cost was extortionate, thats my story and I am sticking to it. Joey wanted to take a canoe down the Zambezi, watching the wildlife, but after some convincing gave up the idea as not eXtreme enough. So we compromised on white water rafting. Now there ae two types of raft, you have the pro raft where you have a pro sit on the back with a large set of oars who basically controls the boat, or you have the ameteur boat, the one where the guide does nothing except right the raft when we capsize. We chose the later, as this would obviously be more 'fun'. We marched down the side of the gorge, with four other victims, to the lower Zambezi where the set of rapids started, and after some playing around in the boat, trying to point in the right direction the guide gave up on us and decided it was time to hit the rapids. We cruised out into the gorger which was stunning, sheer cliffs hundreds of meters high on either side. After the calm came the first rapid called Midnight Diner. A grade 5+, quite a biggy in other words. From the raft it looked enormous, a mass of white churning water. The guide said we need to go down the right of the main channel, which was a joke as we couldn't steer this boat for toffee. We hit the main channel nose on, and the very first wave we flipped head over heels, up went the bow, out we all popped and splash into the white water. I managed to somehow keep a hold of the boat, Joey on the other hand had disappeared, I looked all round trying to see where in the mass of white water she was, when out pops her head about 25m back. I only saw her head for half a second before she was under again, but when i had seen her she did look awfully unwell. Over the next minute or so, I saw Jo appear above the water a few more time, each time looking a little worse for wear. Eventualy the rescue kayak managed to catch her and brought here to the boat. Jo was so disorientated by the experience she did not realise she was back at the boat and I had to grab here before she drifted off again. She looked at me, hacked up some water, coughed for a while before shouting 'That was bloody horrible!'. After safely making it back into the raft she told me how she was churned around, under the boat, popping out the back and then being dragged under, all before catching a breath. Only when she surfaced a while later did she catch half a breath and a lung full of Zambezi. The next rapid was far too dangerous, no one has successfully done it, so we walked around before getting back into the boat for the next 15 rapids. It became a pattern of the guide saying go left/right and we went right/left. Rapid after rapid we flipped, vertically, sideways, and my most memorable being where the raft collapsed in half width ways, popping me and another out of the middle into the Washing Machine. It certainly felt like one, when i had eventually surfaced I found myself in a different raft catching a ride. Jo was too busy waving to the camera on the gorge to notice I had disappeared! She was horrified when she spotted me gasping for air while being rescued by the other boat. I would certainly recommend white water rafting. Its a major buzz, and we and our crew gassed into the evening over some beers swapping our near death experiences. Altough the following day the bruises and aches came out big stylee. During our time in Livingstone we also met Alison (Spillage), Shorene (L'il Bugs) and Paul (Big Bugs). They had been managing a tourist lodge nearby and had rescued three adorable kittens, who were being donated to our camp as they had to hit the road. So we spent time at the camp playing with huckle, berry and finn. before making a decision whether to go to Zimbabwe, or Botswana.