Journal #57 - Zambia
Shani from Zambia!
After walking across a bridge in no-mans-land we arrived in Zambia. Neighbor to Zimbabwe, they both share rights to Victoria Falls. Our trip to Zimbabwe was characterized by a cultural show and seeing the falls from up high. In contrast, we spent our time in Zambia on the river that flows into and from the falls - the Zambezi.
This took several forms, the first of which was our day of white-water rafting. We were picked up from our Livingstone hotel early in the morning and driven out to the edge of the river. What we were not warned about though, is that the river’s elevation is much lower than that of the road’s. So, our first task was to, while carrying our vests/oars/personal effects, descend the hillside. There was not a path for us to walk down though, instead, there was a ladder. Not a traditional metal ladder that was standing vertically, but rather one comprised of wood, saplings really. These branches were lashed together in a series of squares and we were told to walk down it. Since each piece was tied to one another, they flexed under our feet, so we inched our way down the hill on a series of uneven branches with the bendability of a slack line. Our legs were shaking before ever even making it to the water.
Once safely on the shore, we loaded up and boarded our raft with our kayaking escorts for spotters. Many rafting companies around the world bring spotters. They help get people back into the boat who fall out or watch ahead if there are any obstacles the crew should be aware of. Our spotters though, served an additional purpose. These kayakers called out when they found crocodiles in the water with us. This is not just theoretical either – because we actually saw some. The Zambezi is infested with these crocs, and we were rowing our oars directly through their home.
The rapids were fun though. The river does sit so low in the valley that you are floating between the rapids with giant walls of rock and greenery on either side. The setting felt fantastical like we were rowing along on a fictional quest. Our adventure lasted several hours and it was thrilling to alternate between different classes of rapids and the smooth gliding in between. The sun made the water sparkle and the water in the air (courtesy of the falls) kept all of the fauna on the shores vibrant despite the season.
Our group was in for a shock though when, preparing for one particular set of rapids, our guide informed us that we were coming up on a 50/50.
"What do you mean?" we asked, confused by the terminology.
“Oh,” he chuckled, “fifty percent chance we capsize.” Into the water infested with crocodiles.
We assumed he was joking - pulling our leg, as tour guides do. I guessed he was trying to add some extra thrill to the experience so we felt like we had excelled, increasing our sense of pride, despite not being in any real danger. We assumed wrong. The rubber met the rapid in question and our raft rolled before we had the chance to realize what was going on.
We should probably have felt more fear but, in reality, it was thrilling to get thrown from the raft. Everyone with us came up perfectly safe and the cool water felt good after rowing under the sun for several hours. If we were not so concerned about the wildlife, several of us probably would have jumped in sooner. I loved the experience and thought it was even funnier when I got the video footage back from the tour company and watched us flip into the river in slow motion.
When our day wrapped up, we were made to scramble back up yet another sapling ladder, but by that time of day, we did not care. The whole experience had been a blast everyone was rearing to try again. Mr. Wanderer and I got back on the water soon, but with a much lower adrenaline affair – we took a river cruise.
One evening, we went out on a motorized boat and spent the sunset hours floating along a peaceful stretch of the Zambezi, far away from the rapids. It was here that we caught sight of many more crocodiles. The significantly more threatening animal, and bigger pests, are the the hippos. There were countless of them in the river. Since it was dusk, we caught them as they prepared to come ashore for the evening. This meant their herds were all in shallow water, so we could count the 10-15 heads with their fluttering ears as they popped up. We would be distracted by one bloat only to have our attention pulled in a different direction when another started snorting. The hippos were everywhere.
From the safety of our boat deck though, it was a fascinating experience. Drifting down the river and around floating islands, watching all the wildlife (including many different birds), and dining on delicious food as the sun set a vibrant orange, was awesome. We enjoyed the peaceful evening and one last stunning African sunset. After this, we packed our bags and hit the road for our next destination. It is time to move on from the African continent for a little while and head to the national home of the world’s largest wine cellar. Any guesses where we are off to next?
