To compensate a few of us went for a long drive on Sunday, Westwards towards the Namibian border. What followed can only happen in Africa; 50km out we stopped and had an impromptu picnic; on the side of the road. Perched on small hand-crafted stools, we welcomed the day with a couple of Amstel lagers, toasting all passers-by. Many slowed down to ask if we were Ok, or if we needed assistance, most waved and cheered as they drove past.
Later the road turned to dirt, and around lunch time we stopped for another round of refreshments. The dogs chased chickens and barked at local villagers who came out to watch the spectacle of a bunch of slightly inebriated white people celebrating Easter Sunday.
A man rode past on his bicycle, some trussed-up chickens tied to the handle bars, so we bought them, planning on making a fire and cooking them for lunch. However the beers distracted us somewhat, and we ended up being invited in to a stranger's house for a supper of fried fish and sadza (a porridge-type food made from groung maize) - a very hospitable gentleman. To thank him we gave a gift of one of the chickens.
The rest of the chickens are now earning their keep on the lawn, eating caterpillars.
]]>And it did rain yesterday after all....yummy....a beautiful electric storm blew up along the river, bringing with it respite from the heat. Today the sky is clear, blue, cloudless, stunning.
]]>And it did rain yesterday after all....yummy....a beautiful electric storm blew up along the river, bringing with it respite from the heat. Today the sky is clear, blue, cloudless, stunning.
]]>Instead we will sit on the lawn and watch the storm unfold, the flickerings reflected on the tossing, rushing water of the Mighty Zambezi.
This is my favourite time of day, evening, as the sun is setting and shadows grow long. Time to reflect on the day, and plan for tomorrow. A nostalgic time. Regret? Pride and satisfaction at a job well done? The dusty smell of wood smoke drifting in across the camp, and the nestling noises of birds getting ready for bed.
]]>The river is swollen, bulging at the seams. I am told that the Zambezi has not been this high since 1979. Some argue and say no, not 1979, but 1972. However, all they can agree on is that it is high! The rapids have been drowned, and we can now navigate our way, almost unimpeded, from the falls to Mwande, some 40km upstream. There was talk last night of marketing an expedition at this time of year, where clients board our boats, and are taken on unforgettable motor-boat adventures up the river (as opposed to canoe safaris, where you have to paddle downstream). We would send runners up ahead, who would set up camp for us, cook, make sure the beers were cold for our arrival in the late evening. We could sit around the campfire, discussing the day, letting the cold beers iron out any stiffness caused from sitting all day.
Once home yesterday we listened to the hyena's laughter from the Zim side, no doubt sharing jokes with the baboons who come to drink water late in the evenings. Later we heard some elephant discussing the dangers of crossing the river while it is so high. Last week three elephant and a hippo were washed over the falls, their swollen bodies were found swirling round and round a whirlpool below. Life is cheap in Africa.
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