Riverside

From Kesane to Livingstone.
After another hearty breakfast of omelette, toast and fruit we were off in the Commuter. Kesane to the border of Botswana/Zambia is only a short drive. We passed a different section of the trucks awaiting the border crossing. It really does go for many kilometers. Cars and tourist vehicles don't need to do the wait, thank goodness.
Passport control was again a convoluted and drawn out process. First up we had to line up to get stamped out of Botswana. Then we lined up for the ferry across (more about this later) the no-mans-land of the Zambezi River before the passport processing for Zambia. The passport offices in Africa appear to be chaotic places in general. There are often signs announcing things that are not adhered to, which is sort of confusing for people who have come from countries where signs are to be respected. A couple of examples from today were: 'visit the health check counter before we process your passport'. There was no one at the health check counter...so I figured that was not in operation and probably a left over sign from the Ebola outbreak. The other example was the 'exit' sign was really the entrance for the tourist visa. So we entered the exit, tried to look healthy and proceeded to hand over $50US each and our passports. I had collected all the passports and the cash as Stephan said this was the best way to do it. The woman behind the counter processed each one without checking the actual people were there, which confirms my belief that it is mostly about raising revenue.
Back to no-mans-land between Botswana and Zambia. After we had just been stamped out of Botswana, Stephan's phone rang. It was the hotel to say we had to return because Karen Parker (not sure why Geoff Parker was not included in this) had not paid her bill. I had not even thought of paying the bill...in fact I hadn't even remembered really putting anything on it but may have. I overheard Stephan saying we wouldn't be returning as we didn't have time and we would call in when we crossed back over in a couple of days. I gathered that was not ok for the hotel by the interaction that was happening and quickly got on the phone and paid the bill via credit card. It was all of $8.50 (probably a drink) but for the hotel worker the fact I hadn't paid my bill may have had serious consequences. He may have had this amount deducted from his next pay and also had to answer serious questions from his boss about why a guest had left without paying.
The river crossing on the ferry was interesting. There are a couple of them running at a time and each one can only take one truck each, a few cars and some walk on passengers. No wonder it takes so long to process the hundreds of trucks! We walked on while Stefan waited with the van. He warned against taking photos around border crossings because official type people will take your camera/phone off you. Our ferry took a truck with things in it for the new bridge that is being built to cross the Zambezi. This meant we did a detour to a different part of the river. There were people there doing very traditional fishing using the canoes cut from the trees and fishing nets. They looked very interesting in the morning light. At this point I was unsure of the rules re photography...but decided it was not worth losing my camera over.
Once we'd been through Zambia passport control (as outlined before) we then had to wait for Stephan. Once he was across he had a myriad of paperwork to process. Permits for the van, third party insurance, tourist visa stuff, etc. We contemplated how tricky all this would be without some local knowledge. In fact a group of local opportunists had tapped into this market by greeting arrivals and offering to help people through the process for a fee; the "runners" as they are known. I noticed them running up to cars and there would be a cash exchange. Until Stephan explained it, I was not sure what was going on. They were very pushy and for someone like Stephan, who knows what he is doing, they are unnecessary and bits of incessant pests.
All the business of crossing the river and the passport control took about 3 hours. We waited for Stephan just inside the gates (where no one even checked we had a visa) for a couple of hours and a fascinating couple of hours it was. There were the usual hustlers wanting to sell us stuff but they quickly went away once you said you weren't interested. We stood on the edge of the road waiting and watching the goings on of the border people. Stall holders had set up selling clothes and food. The clothes for sale looked used and were in piles on plastic on the dusty ground. I didn't see any sales of the clothes but I am guessing the truck drivers do buy some. At one point a couple of squawking chooks were extracted from a car boot and a smiling lady carried them away by the wings. The way they were carried suggested they were heading to the pot. We were standing beside a woman selling drinks from an esky but business was very very slow and I don't think I saw her make a single sale. Geoff, Tony and Kevin had wandered down to the river front to check out things. Geoff returned with a few brass bracelets he bought from a hawker and somehow he also brought a few people selling things with him. Myf decided she would like a few brass bracelets so there was a bit of bartering. Joseph, our vendor used all his bag of tricks describing himself as our "brother from a different mother" and pleaded that his children could eat tonight if we bought them. My year 12's could have done an interesting analysis of his persuasive techniques!
After all that we checked into the lovely David Livingstone Hotel, on the banks of the Zambezi. We can see the spray from the falls in the distance and we finished the day with a relaxing cruise up and down the river.Read more