Victoria Falls

Wednesday 18th April – To Victoria Falls (551 km)

During the evening I was again awoken several times by the loud grunting of hippos near our hut. At about midnight I heard a rapping at the bamboo screen. It was the security guard asking me if I wanted to accompany him on his next hippo chasing round. I hastily grabbed some clothes and my torch and staggered out into the darkness behind him.

It did not take long before we saw the fat backsides of two hippos happily grazing on the lawn near the restaurant. It seemed to me that these huge creatures are really quite shy and try to avoid conflict whenever possible. As we approached, they quickly waddled back into the darkness and made two massive splashes as they dove into the Okavango. I also staggered back to my hut, wrapped myself in the mosquito net and tried to retreat back to sleep.

Aroused by the hippo encounter and hopelessly entangled in the mosquito net, I only slept fitfully for the remainder of the night. Frequently I heard the overworked guard futilely chase marauding hippos from one end of our camp to the other. I could not help thinking that the hippos were like naughty schoolboys stealing apples from the farmer’s orchard and that the guard’s work would never be completed – as fast as he chased each hippo back into the river it was replaced by another two of its mates.

At 5.30 am I finally gave up on sleep, untangled myself from the bonds of the mosquito net and started packing for the long day ahead. Soon after 7 am we were all on the bus and ready to go. The drive back across the Okavango did not seem anywhere near as scary as it had on the way in. It is amazing how quickly we can become conditioned to excitement (and the river had also fallen steadily over the past 48 hours).

Bouncing along the sandy path back to the bitumen reminded me of how much of an achievement the previous day’s ride had been. If the bus was having so much trouble with its huge wheels, it is little wonder that our tiny bike wheels kept sinking and bringing us to one stop after another.

The sealed road follows the centre of the Caprivi Strip through the Bwabwata National Park. It was a smooth road and the complete lack of other traffic meant that we made excellent early speed. At one point we passed a road sign warning us to “BEWARE OF ELEPHANTS”.

At the eastern end of the Caprivi Strip on the border with Zambia is the frontier town of Katima Mulilo. I was somewhat surprised to find a modern shopping centre, similar to any shopping mall you would find in a western country. On further investigation I even managed to find a lovely little Italian restaurant, complete with cappuccino machine and wonderful clean toilets.

Soon after leaving Katima Mulilo we reached the border crossing to Zambia.
After spending two weeks in Namibia we had all grown to love this sparsely inhabited land of such contrasts. Although it has a wide diversity of ethnic groups they all share a genuine love for their country. We also gained the impression that it was a well governed country with a steadily developing infrastructure. Although we were keen to see Zambia it was hard not to feel a little sorry to be saying goodbye to Namibia.

The border formalities to exit Namibia were conducted efficiently and we then crossed over into the unknown world of Zambia. We immediately became aware of the huge difference between the two countries. There was no doubt that we had stepped back into a much more impoverished and backward nation. The Zambian Immigration “Office” was a shabby little shed with no computer facilities, just two friendly officials who did their best to struggle with the sudden rush of travellers. The visa entry fee for Zambia must be paid for in $USD but the hassled staff had no change whatsoever. This made for a rush of impromptu money changing within our group. Somehow we all managed to find the exact money and we were able to resume our journey into Zambia without undue delay.
Immediately after crossing the border we saw the mighty Zambezi River for the first time. The Zambesi is the third longest river in Africa and it really is an impressive sight. The river is wide and rapidly moving and it is this vast mass of moving water that later creates the spectacle of Victoria Falls.

The road on the Zambian side was a far cry from the smooth bitumen we had enjoyed in Namibia. It was narrow and punctuated by frequent patches of potholes, often requiring our bus to virtually stop or veer to the other side of the road. Our rate of progress slowed considerably as we passed by successions of decrepit businesses and makeshift roadside stalls. Many of these were run by small children. In some ways the surroundings reminded me of the poor areas of Nepal. Without any form of social security, people have no alternative than to subsist in any way they can.

We stopped for a quick roadside lunch and noticed a small group of locals trying to attach a prehistoric bicycle to a huge old horse cart. Anyone could see that there was no way it was going to work, especially when the only thing that had to secure the bike to the cart was an old inner tube. I suppose they had no better way to pass the time and seemed quite proud of their ingenuity. I tried climbing on the bike and trying to peddle but I could not get it budge even a centimetre. It looked like the back wheel would collapse long before the cart would move.
Considering it had no breaks and could not be steered it was probably just as well that it did not work.

We finally drove in Livingstone at about 4.30 pm and got our first sight of the famous mist rising from the falls. This mist can be seen from as far away as 20km and is the reason why the locals refer to the falls as “the smoke that thunders”.

These falls were first seen by Europeans in 1855 when David Livingstone was taken their by a group of natives. He was so impressed that he regarded them as a miracle of nature.

Because the day was well advanced we drove directly to the falls in order to see them before nightfall. I was very keen to see these famous falls at first hand. Travel writers often argue over which of the world’s two biggest waterfalls (Iguassu Falls in Argentina & Victoria Falls) is the most spectacular. Since we had been to Iguassu in 2010 I was also keen to see how they compared.

Long before you can see the falls themselves you can hear the mighty roar of the tumbling Zambezi waters. We paid the $US 20 entry fee and followed the meandering path to the first viewing platform. Of course, you cannot view such massive waterfalls without getting drenched and soon we were all soaked to the skin. Fortunately, the water is not cold, but it is certainly very, very wet.

The falls themselves are 1.7 km wide and over a 100 metres although it is not possible to view the entire width of the falls from any one particular location (apart from in the air). The massive amount of mist and water droplets also greatly obscures clear viewing, although for short intervals of time it does seem to abate slightly, only to be quickly replaced by another deluge. In my opinion the viewing at Iguassu is a lot clearer and the walkways there are much more sophisticated, allowing you to get much closer access to the falls themselves. The quality of the Zambian paths was rather primitive, with only rudimentary safety rails. A careless step could easily send a small child or a careless onlooker over the edge and into the watery tumult. We had been told that the viewing is better from the Zimbabwe side so I decided to spend the following day over the border.

Soaked and bedraggled I returned to the entrance and spent some time running the gauntlet of the eager hawkers at the nearby market. They had some great stuff for sale but their aggressive sales techniques were rather daunting. I did eventually find the most effective strategy was to simply explain to each stall holder that I wanted to look at their goods, but if they started to pester me, I would immediately move to the next stall. This proved very successful, and I was left to browse in peace. I came away with several purchases, including a wad of the old Zimbabwe banknotes – due to hyperinflation they printed notes with denominations up to 50 trillion dollars!

When everyone had returned to the bus we drove to the Zambezi Waterfront Lodge which was to be our home for the next two nights. This beautiful lodge is located right on the banks of the Zambezi River and its delightful chalet type units were a very welcome sight after our long, long day. Bob and I made the very happy discovery that our room was a luxurious upstairs room with no less than 4 beds, a balcony overlooking the river, plenty of hot water and a huge bathroom (it even boasted a large spa). It was indeed a tired traveller’s heaven. Even Bob’s snoring on the other side of the room would not keep me awoke here.

During the evening meal we were entertained by an energetic group of African singers and dancers. The rhythms and harmonies drifted out over the wide Zambezi. It the distance we could still hear the background noise of the water cascading over the falls. It had been a truly memorable day.Read more