Victoria Falls first thing in the morning are even more gobsmacking. I wandered down before dawn and stood above the gorge listening and watching. My view along the gorge into Zimbabwe was blocked by a solid wall of mist, constrained by the walls and then ballooning into pink cloud above, turning apricot and gold as the sun rose.
The Zimbabwean falls, especially near this end, are less sheer than further along, more like a steep, rocky staircase, the passage of water rather than feet having rounded its edges, or perhaps even flying buttresses trying to support the main stone wall. And the water cycle is very clear: it rises up the left-hand wall, collects in the cloud and then rains back down into the body of the falls, almost like an arrowed diagram.
Above the falls the river races towards the edge, the mist rising off the rapids as if they are boiling, softer without the sun’s rays, the only colours a few grasses and bushes tipped with spreading gold.
Visited the Livingstone Museum which included an excellent natural history display as well as a collection of Livingstone memorabilia, including clothes, photos, writings, books. Very interesting to see him practically worshipped, his feats of endurance and discoveries celebrated by the world, while his faults and failures were ignored. Photocopies of some of his personal letters were fascinating reading
I raced back to the truck to leave and stretched out across the back in the hot sunshine as we drove on, the wind blowing hard enough to keep the sting out of the sun. Lying there reaffirmed how much fun this travel can be. The sudden realisation that in just 10 days this adventure will be history jolted me out of looking forward to the end of the trip. I'm scared that this extraordinary way of life will soon be over, and too soon I will have to take responsibility for myself and start making decisions about my future after having for so long had the support from home to carry on this way and no pressure to do anything else. I determined to make the most of the next few days of freedom that many never have the chance to experience.
Nikki is feeling the same - really enjoying the day and how it wiped out recent tedium, tension, longings, aggravation. It's fascinating but probably understandable how we selectively remember the good times, creating distorted memories of our experiences. But then this trip has had way more ups than downs, and we've done so much over the last few months that we're allowed some general tiredness.
Saw our fist roadside villages for a while: small collections of huts round a huge baobab tree or around communal area, and cultivation, the maize stalks set out in small paddocks
A ferry ride across the Zambezi River and lunch on the banks divided two border crossings - out of Zambia and into Botswana. The Botswanan official was quite aggressive about my added A4 passport pages and told me I should have got a new passport and should not come through again with a passport in that condition. This “effeminate” (Bob’s description) ”jerk” (mine) obviously had no understanding that the passport system in Africa is just not that easy!
We drove into Kasane, where the banks were shut but the bars open. Kel managed to change enough cash to hand out spending money. We checked out entrance details for Chobe National Park before enjoying a bar break overlooking the Zambezi.
Camped early at the end of a runway beside a de-winged five-seater plane hung from a tree beside the river. Swamps between the water and us put an end to washing plans but did gift us voracious mosquitoes and assorted tiny, winged critters that filled the truck and walked all over us, driving everyone crazy and under cover.
Quiche and apple crumble before the night was over.
Photos from Livingstone Museum, Zambia
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