Tales From the Chicken Bus

Day 261

We slept well and felt secure with our mosquito net tucked into our bed. Mzuzu is over 1000 meters so its pleasantly cool at night. We were up at 7am ready for our breakfast which was included with the room. Two fried eggs on toast, fresh fruit, juice and tea, breakfast was surprisingly large and good. Jordana and I walked to the muddy bus station looking for transport north. We figured we’d stop at Chitimba on Lake Malawi before heading into Tanzania.

Its difficult to tell which bus is leaving next as there are so many, no schedules and bus touts telling you that their bus is next. After a quick walk around the U-shaped station we decided on a mini bus. We waited for it to fill and about 30 minutes later we were off. I had bargained for the fare and we were paying 1000 Kwacha to Chitimba, however we could hear the money collector speaking with other customers who were going further than us. All I could understand was Karonga and 500. Oh well I figured maybe I didn’t do the best bargaining job. When he asked for money I asked why they were paying 500 to Karonga and us 1500 to Chitimba. He gave me this rude reply laughing about how its 1800 to Karonga. Sure whatever, I wasn’t about to argue I was more mad at the rude way he spoke to us.

We stopped often picking up and dropping off passengers. One lady came on with a tub full of fish that just reeked, it smelt as if it was rotting. Lucky for everyone she only rode with us for 10 minutes. Near noon we reached Lake Malawi, a beautiful sight after the dusty farm fields of central Malawi. Soon after we came to Chitimba. We stopped at a police checkpoint right at the beginning of town. Jordana and I got out and looked around as people tried to sell us things and kids begged for money. I walked around the van and looked around then turned to Jordana, “Looks like a shithole eh? Kinda run down”, she agreed. “We could just get back in and keep going, keep going to Tanzania today its only a few hours away.” I offered her this thought. To be honest as beautiful as Lake Malawi is supposed to be we haven’t had the best experience in Malawi so far, I would be fine if we just skipped over it. “Yeah, let’s keep going. Its not nice here”. So that was it, Malawi just wasn’t going to work for us so we were outta here. I told the money collector on the bus that we wanted to continue to Karonga. He demanded 500 kwacha each more for the trip. “Hold on, you said it was 1800 to Karonga from Mzuzu, we paid 1500 to here. How can it be 500 more! Here is 600 for both of us.” This guy was making me mad now, first he’s just plain rude when he speaks to me and now he wants us to pay more than he originally told us! I was thankful we decided to leave Malawi today.

Karonga’s bus station looked identical to Mzuzu’s, I think Malawi has a set design for bus stations. Besides the layout or lack of one the one thing they all have in common is mud. We need to find a share taxi to the border. As we exited the bus about 10 guys all were shouting to come with them. We ignored them and stopped at a stall for a drink, I was thirsty and wanted to take a second to figure out how much this should cost. “Sir can I have your bottle?” A boy asked me, he wanted the deposit from the glass bottle. “Sure no problem, give me a second I’m almost done”.

We bargained for a good 10 minutes with all the drivers before finally agreeing on a fare. We climbed in the car and now drove back and forth in front of the bus station looking for other passengers. I commented to Jordana, “Would it not be easier and cheaper on fuel if they just waited in one spot?” We drove up and down the same street for about 15 minutes constantly honking the horn until we had Jordana, myself, two men and a baby in the back seat and a young girl in the front. Finally we were off and barrelling towards the border at 140 km/ph. A few people got out and by the time we reached the border it was just the two of us. There was a sign for customs on the right but we veered left for some reason.

As we got out of the car I figured out why we turned left, the driver dropped us amongst the money changers and porters who offered to carry our bags. We just walked straight to the customs office. Finally the end of Malawi, not so fast though, there was no agents to be seen. We finally saw someone and he asked if we were exiting or entering? “Exiting Malawi”, we both said. “OK wait here”. We waited 10 minutes before someone else arrived, he finally got to stamping us out. Although it took a while as he was on his mobile phone and chatting with the guy behind him. With our stamps we happily began walking out of Malawi. I had one issue, since we thought we’d be in the country a while I had withdrawn the equivalent of $120 U.S. I wanted to change this but the money changers were offering a ridiculously low rate. As we walked about 10 guys followed and I tried to bargain for a better rate. Finally one guy agreed, he gave me what I wanted in Tanzanian Shillings and I gave him my Kwacha. I saw him slip a wad of the kwacha to another guy. I shouted, “Hey, why are you giving him that?!” I had just counted it all in front of him so we just kept walking. Then he says that I’ve short changed, by just under half. “What? I just counted it in front of you and YOU just slipped your friend some of the money.” I explained. He just kept counting it and then telling me to count it again, of course it was short his friend had the rest of the money. This went on back and forth for a goof 2-3 minutes, he wasn’t listening to me and just kept saying I never gave him what I said. Then I lost it, “You’re a fu*king liar! Fine, just give me my fu*king money back now!” He gave me only what was in his hand, still short the bills he slipped to his friend. “I want it all, you fu*king liar!” Finally he gave me the rest and I gave him back the Shillings he had given me. As we walked away he was shouting he’ll give me a better deal. How stupid was this guy? I thought to myself I should have just continued walking over the border since he had given me the amount of Shillings I wanted. Then again maybe he’s friends with the police or something, and who were they going to believe here? We finally walked over the border to Tanzania, good ridance Malawi!

It felt so good to be in a new country, the custom agent was friendly and advised us not to change money here. Yeah thanks. He asked us if we were married and why we didn’t have kids yet. He said we should go home and have children. Was this guy talking to my mother? Mom did you set this up for us? We were stamped in and walked a steep and hot few kilometres to the bus stand and grabbed a packed bus to Mbeya.

We arrived in Mbeya early evening, we checked into the Mbeya Peak Hotel, nicer than it sounds and then went out for dinner. I liked Tanzania better than Malawi already. It was cheaper, people were already more friendly to us and we had a fabulous vegetable curry for dinner. Things were looking up again now that we were out of the so called “warm heart of Africa”.

Day 260

One day in Lilongwe was enough, it was time to move north. We got an earlier start today and were looking for a bus to Lake Malawi or at least a good distance north of Lilongwe.

After a short bargaining session we were in a taxi and headed back to the bus station. Even though Lilongwe is more overgrown village than large city there is tons of traffic in the mornings. We were stopped on the bridge of the main road to the station. Below us the dirty Lilongwe River flowed and at first glance down the river banks I thought it looked beautiful, a scene of deep green trees and grass. On second glance I noticed the shacks of people who had nowhere else to live, the people washing in the filthy river and the piles of garbage everywhere. When poverty resides in a beautiful setting its easy to overlook how poor it is. From the river scene we soon were back at the bus station. At least since we were here yesterday we now knew exactly where to go.

We stepped around the muddy puddles and walked toward the buses for the company we wanted. “Mzuzu!?” A man shouted at us. “Is it leaving soon?” He said yes it was leaving now. First rule of travel is never believe anyone in a bus station. However after looking at the bus it was quite full, meaning it just may be leaving soon. We had hoped for a bus to Nkhata Bay but Mzuzu is near there and with the bus leaving soon it was tough to pass up. We climbed on the bus with our packs, it was full. Every seat was taken and many people stood in the aisle, bags were piled up behind the driver and we added our to the mix. In the first row there was a single seat that was free, Jordana sat there and I stood. The bus moved forward to the gate of the station, then stopped. The door opened and more people got on. I guess they waited to see which bus was leaving first. We were packed in like sardines, I could barely manoeuvre my feet amongst the other feet, bags and chickens that were now aboard. As we finally left the bus yard 50 Cent came blaring on the sound system with the family friendly lyrics of, “I smell pussy”. I looked around at the old ladies and children aboard and back at the driver, did anyone think this was an odd musical selection? Only 8 more hours to go abroad this rolling farm of a bus.

“G-Unit! G-Unit!” Three hours into the trip the 50 Cent album was now repeating. We pulled into a busy station, the man who collected money on the bus turned to tell me many people would be exiting the bus so we should find a seat together. When the bus stopped it was a mad rush on and off and there was no way I was getting a seat. So as we pulled away again I took my spot standing next to Jordana, I was perfectly happy here, standing seemed preferable to sitting on a narrow hard seat. “I told you to find a seat! Why did you not?” The bus guy snapped at me. I politely said, “I couldn’t find one.” I wanted to say, “Did you miss the rush of pushing people armed with chickens, fish and whatever else is aboard?! How the heck was I going to get a seat when I was being trampled you fool!? And another thing, can you please turn off the 50 Cent already!” Soon after the stop we managed to get two seats together and squished in. We also realized that the bus worker was just a rude inconsiderate guy. When we moved a lady sat in the single seat Jordana had been in. The bus guy told her no she couldn’t sit there. Why not you ask? So he could sit his lazy ass down while she stood.

Late afternoon we arrived in the busy town of Mzuzu. It was a hot, tight and annoying ride. I lost count but we heard the entire 50 Cent album at least 3 times. The bus station in Mzuzu was a smaller version of Lilongwe’s grand station. We decided to spend the night and continue on in the morning, according to our guidebook there was a decent place to stay within walking distance. As we walked out on to the road men yelled out at us, “Muzungu! Taxi?” I approached one man and said, “No thanks but if you want to be a nice guy can you point me and the right direction of Flame Tree Guesthouse.” He gave us directions and we easily found the street which had a sign pointing the way. We walked towards the guesthouse which was in a residential part of town. We passed many people who stared at us and when we smiled and said hi they just looked away blankly. Flame Tree was a actually a nice spot with a good sitting area around a large stand of bamboo. The room was a bit cellar-like but clean enough.

Before the sunset we walked to an ATM and to find dinner. A young man stopped us on the street and asked us where we were from and the general questions a tourist gets. I foolishly thought he just wanted to talk but then he pulled out some art work he was selling. It was good stuff so we bought two pieces from him. There was nothing wrong with him selling his work to us but we both commented how we’ve noticed a difference between Malawi and Zambia. In Zambia often times someone would just want to talk for the sake of chatting with someone different, in Malawi it seemed people were only nice to us if they were selling something. We walked around the town searching for a restaurant without much luck. Then we came across a pizza place run by two woman who made pizza in a wood burning oven. It was pretty good if a little weak on toppings, a nice surprise in this small Malawian town.

We finished the night reading outside of our room surrounded by burning mosquito coils. The peacefulness was a nice change from continuous 50 Cent on the bus today. Jordana and I talked about how Malawi was the so called “Warm heart of Africa”, we were beginning to wonder if the warm heart had grown cold.

Day 259

I’m trying to think of a nice thing to say about Lilongwe, but its tough to come up with one. I like cities and can usually come up with at least one thing that I enjoy about a particularly terrible city. Guatemala City had a few beautiful colonial buildings, Tegucigalpa had a pedestrian street and even Jo’burg had the great Melville area. Lilongwe? It has piles of garbage, dirt roads, traffic, beggars and one of the most chaotic and filthy bus stations I’ve ever seen. Actually I don’t think you can call it a station, its more of a huge yard, with buses everywhere. To top it all off there really isn’t any backpacker accommodation in the city. The less you spend the chances are you will be staying in the sort of place that rents by the hour.

We left Korea Garden today and went to the bus station around 10am looking for a bus north. We were told one was leaving at 12pm so we went to kill some time at an internet cafe. We returned at 11:30 and still no bus. 12 o’clock passed by and still no bus, they did say it would show up sometime but by now there was a large number of people waiting for this bus. “Let’s just go, we can leave tomorrow”. I said to Jordana. We spent all day yesterday travelling here and got a late start today, it just didn’t make sense to keep going and again arrive in darkness. Although I didn’t really want to stay another night in Lilongwe.

We took a taxi back to the first hotel we tried yesterday, lucky us they had a room. Much nicer and a friendlier price than Korea Garden. We spent the day on the internet and bought some snacks for tomorrows bus trip. Our room was basic but clean, exactly what you want from a budget place. It even had a tv so we watched plenty of BBC and caught a bad movie, until the power went out for a few hours. A normal occurrence all over this part of Africa, a full day with power is a rare event.

For dinner we had italian at a restaurant that was full with volunteers and NGO workers. I’ve read that Malawi is the handout capital of Africa, by the number of volunteers and SUV’s from aid organizations around the city it was easy to believe. We watched some tv, packed up and got to bed early so we could get an early start and get out of this city in the morning. Oh I just realized the one thing that isn’t terrible about Lilongwe, crime. Sure its not safe at night but its safer than most African capitals. Maybe that can be their tourism slogan, “We’re safer than Jo’burg!”

Day 258

Up again at the break of dawn, this time to catch a bus to Lilongwe, Malawi. It seems like we’ve been up before 6am everyday for the last 10 days. There were always taxi drivers waiting for people at the entrance to the backpackers and even this early there was one guy there. “5000 to the bus station, right?” I knew that’s what the fare should be so I wasn’t asking how much. “No, 10,000”. He responded. No way we were paying 10,000 for such a short trip, I said 5000 again and he seemed to agree to it, or at least said get in. We began to drive and he was at it again telling us 10,000. “I think 5000 is fair”. Jordana countered. “You muzungu are all the same!” He added something else but we couldn’t understand, what a rude guy. The first really rude person we’d come across here. He was saying all white people are the same because they wont pay over the standard price for a taxi. Sorry but two tier pricing for a taxi just doesn’t cut it.

We arrived at the very chaotic bus station and lucky for us already had our tickets. Its really tough to find your bus here as they are just scattered all over a large area. Men ran at our taxi yelling out bus companies, I said, “We have tickets! Where is the bus to Malawi?” Eventually someone pointed us in the right direction and we found the bus. It was hard to miss since it had “Zambia – Malawi” painted on the side. Jordana boarded as I made sure our bags got stored away safely. When I walked on the bus I was surprised to find it full. Full of people, bags and just about everything else. The seating setup was yet again 5 seats per row, Jordana had found 2 seats in the 2nd back row. Even though the bus looked full we still waited for one hour, with our engine running the entire time. They squeezed a few more people in and about an hour and a half after the scheduled departure time we were off.

It didn’t take long before we exited Lusaka for the green, remote and beautiful countryside to return. A nice change from the dusty and noisy streets of the city. The bus had tv’s, this was a bad thing. On tv were videos of religious songs, with some of the strangest group dances in slow motion. Hands waving to the sky and weird slow motion steps that didn’t make much sense. It really didn’t do much for the thought that every black person can dance. It was actually really strange stuff, almost cult like. For the most part people are very religious here, you can thank the huge number of missionaries that have come through Africa trying to “save” people for that. As weird as it was it didn’t compare to the strange, creepy nature of the Nigerian movie they showed on our bus ride the other day. Long story short, a guy rapes a girl and gets her pregnant. He runs away, eventually cons a man into giving him money to start a business, which he does and makes a load of cash. Now being rich he contacts the girl he raped, meets her family telling them he wants to marry their daughter. The last scene is them getting married! Huh? The only message Jordana and I got was if you rape someone have the decency to get rich and come back to marry them. It was scary how casual this film was about rape. So as weird as the religious stuff was it didn’t compare to the very creepy alternative.

I was surprised how the roads were generally good out here. We drove along the roads quickly and smoothly watching the green countryside go by. The lunch break wasn’t as good as the one the other day. No fresh fries here, we stopped on the roadside in a small village. It looked like everyone was selling the same thing, huge baskets full of fried fish. People bought some and they wrapped the fish in news paper. I didn’t really see anything else for sale so we settled with the biscuits we had. As the bus pulled away it seemed everyone aboard had bought some fish. People ripped apart their whole fish and dumped the bones on the floor or out the window. In the extreme heat of the day you could guess the pleasant smell that had developed.

Late afternoon we stopped at a bus station near the border. It was really hot today and I just needed a drink as Jordana bravely looked for toilets. As usual drinks were warm, no refrigeration. I bought 2 bags of chips and drank our warm water. There were black market money changers here, so I pulled our my Zambian Kwacha to exchange to Malawian Kwacha. The rate sounded decent but our bus driver overheard and stepped in to tell the money changer it should be better. He was a funny guy the driver, “They will rip you off, be careful. Only change with this guy”. He said pointing to a changer whom he was using. I changed the Kwacha at a good rate and the driver came over to make sure everything went smoothly. We waited there for about an hour before making the 20 minute trip to the border.

The Malawi/Zambian border was a low key rural scene. We entered a small building where we had to fill in our own exit details, there were no computers here. After we were done we were stamped out of Zambia. Outside money changers asked if I wanted to change Zambian kwacha to Malawian. We walked about 200 meters and crossed the border to Malawian customs. We paid our $20 each visa fee, were stamped into the country and then waited. It wasn’t quite clear why we were waiting but we did for about 1 hour. Several young men stood around selling drinks and changing money, one approached me. “My friend, money change?” “No thanks I already have changed my money”. “OK, how about money for me then?” I told him no, I couldn’t do that. He didn’t say much but when he figured he wasn’t getting any money he just wanted to chat. We talked about Malawi, Canada and what he did around here. Before I got back on the bus I gave him some coins I had from Mozambique. Worthless, but I thought it was a good souvenir for him. He appreciated it, “We can use these for the billiards table!” He seemed pleased, shook my hand and we said goodbye.

We arrived in Lilongwe to dark city streets. There was little if any street lighting and some of the city had no power. We found a taxi and went to a budget place listed in the guidebook, all full they told me. Around the corner we tried another, also full. We just told the driver to take us somewhere that was decent and hopefully not very expensive. We arrived at the oddly named Korea Garden, which is owned by Koreans. Not exactly budget but we had little choice. We had a good room and even had some good asian food in the restaurant. We saw a few other tourists that were on our bus who were also staying here, apparently all the budget places in Lilongwe were full tonight. It poured rain yet again as we fell asleep, hopefully we could move on in the morning. There isn’t much to see in Lilongwe.

Day 257

The heavy rain that fell overnight helped both of us have restful sleeps, unfortunately it turned the much of the city into a muddy mess. Lusaka has a population of over 1 million but it looked more like an overgrown village. We had one day to kill in the city and without any real attractions it looked like a lot of internet time.

We walked from Kiboko Backpackers to the centre, less than a km away. Cairo Street is the centre of life in Lusaka and really away from this main street the city looks like a small town. Cairo Street is a bustling mess of noise and diesel fumes mixed with people selling pirated cd’s, clothing and food. Along the centre of the Cairo street is actually a tree lined walk which offers a much more pleasant place to stroll. We walked with little hassle here, it didn’t look like many tourists were around Lusaka. “White man!” A guy shouted and pointed at me as he walked by laughing. Why yes I am, at least they were good natured people here in Lusaka. Something that made up for the lack of beauty in the city.

We had a great indian lunch at a very small and informal restaurant. One half was a small shop where the husband took payment for food and sold spices and the like. On the other side the friendly wife dished out some great indian in stainless steel thali dishes. “Spain?” The man asked me after we ordered. Wow, all that Spanish I learned must have made me look Spanish. “No, we are from Toronto, Canada”, I responded. “Ahh Canada, do you know Mississauga? About 200 Zambian families live there”. Jordana and I both laughed, here we were in a small alley in Lusaka at the smallest restaurant I’ve ever seen and we were talking about Mississauga! The food was great, after paying we hit dusty Cairo street again searching for internet.

The internet was a challenge, it was painfully slow and eventually the power went out. After some coffee we decided to take a taxi out to a suburb to a shopping centre. We found an East Africa guidebook we needed and then found a movie theatre. Lucky for us they were playing the new Bond film. Decent film that was made more interesting for us since so much of it took place in Bolivia. Exiting the movie there was a large choir outside singing Christmas carols, African style. It was great, although it just made me miss home and I’d rather just forget about Christmas this year.

Back at the hostel we tucked in our mosquito nets and tried to cool off in our hot room. Once again heavy rain fell and the thunder shook the windows. I was excited to be moving on tomorrow to Lilongwe, Malawi. Although in the end Lusaka wasn’t a bad stop for 2 nights, it helped out that the people here are incredibly friendly.

Day 256

We were up at 5:30am, an hour that has become quite common for us to rise at. Our bus to Lusaka left at 7am and lucky enough it was a 500 meter walk from the hostel. We had a quick breakfast of cereal from the bag we’ve been carrying around and were off.

The main street of Livingstone was already a busy place at this hour. People starting business before the heat of the day set in. The scene around the bus was busy as people loaded just about everything you could imagine on the bus. Jordana boarded the bus to claim our seats and I handed our bags to someone to load in the cargo hold. “Hi, how are you?” A man asked as I waited for the bags to be stored. I figured he was trying to sell me something. “I’m good, how about you?” “Fine, where are you from? London?” I’m not sure why he guessed London, maybe most people he met were from London. I told him no, Toronto and we chatted briefly about Canada and he wished me a safe journey. I boarded the bus and can’t say I’ve seen a bus like this before, 5 seats in each aisle. I squeezed in the narrow seat. Jordana and I had the first row on the left side, which had rows of 2. On the right side of the bus each row had three seats. That equalled a lot of people, although as we pulled away we were surprised that they didn’t allow standing passengers on this bus. Safety first I guess.

About 10km outside of Livingstone the road deteriorated and turned into a mess of potholes. We dogged huge potholes and there seemed to be more dirt than paved sections. Moving along at a max speed of 20km/h I was beginning to wonder if we’d make the 400km to Lusaka before night fall. The road eventually improved and so did the scenery. Zambia was definitely remote and beautiful. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a green country before. The green on the countryside was only broken by the occasional muddy river and the basic mud brick homes of the small villages we passed through.

For lunch we stopped at a rest stop, Zambian style. I really had to use the bathroom but to be honest I was a bit nervous. I walked in and there was one long trough. The stench in the 30 degree plus heat was disgusting and to top it off I have stage fright when it comes to urinating in public bathrooms. I was the first one in so I quickly did my business and just as people started to enter I finished before my fright took over. I literally breathed a sigh of relief as I exited and washed my hands at an outdoor tap. A small snack stand sold chips (french fries) that looked really good and fresh so I bought two paper bags for lunch. Back on the bus we enjoyed some of the best chips I’ve had in a long time. The rest of the way to Lusaka was hot but the scenery was beautiful. The so called real Africa was dotted with traditional villages and little signs of the western world. That is until we reached Lusaka.

Like a dusty slap in the face we entered the centre of the capital. Immediately it looked like everything that’s wrong with an African city was also wrong with Lusaka. Ugly concrete buildings, dusty streets and piles of garbage. It was a huge contrast to the Zambian countryside. The bus station was one of the most chaotic and dirty we’ve seen anywhere in the world. “Taxi! Taxi! Mzungu, Taxi!” The drivers were shouting at us before we even walked of the bus, actually before the bus had even stopped. We got our bags as taxi drivers tried to grab them from us. “No, that’s my bag thank you.” I said. We got away, found a bus company that had a bus to Lilongwe, Malawi in 2 days and finally jumped in a taxi.

We arrived at Kiboko Backpackers that was more of a hotel than a backpackers. I think we were the only backpackers when we arrived, most guests were business men. It was an OK place to stay, if a bit dirty. I saw more than my share of roaches in the share bathroom. We pulled down our mosquito nets, tucked them in the bed and felt safe from the mosquitos and roaches. I think we were both so tried from the hot day of travel that we were both quickly asleep as heavy rain began to fall outside. I missed the beauty and simplicity of the Zambian countryside, Lusaka is definitely not a place to linger. We don’t plan to linger but 2 nights may be 2 too many.

Day 254

One of the great things about Jolly Boys is they have a free shuttle to the falls for the first 14 people who sign up each day. Its only one way but saves about 25,000 Kwacha ($7 CAD) in taxi fare, a decent savings when things cost quite a bit here. As we ate breakfast we discussed doing rafting or walking with lion cubs. We always thought we would go rafting at the source of the Nile instead of here since we heard it was cheaper. So that left us with the rare opportunity to walk with lion cubs. It was $120 U.S. per person for a few hours. It sounded unique but also sounded odd to me. I mean why were these lions here? Where did they come from? Are they ever going to be released to the wild? We tried to get these answers from the friendly girl at the tour desk but she just didn’t know. I didn’t know if I wanted to spend $240 on what might be something I regret in the end.

At 10am it was time to climb in the mini van for Victoria Falls, or Mosi al Tunya as the natives call it. Victoria Falls was named by David Livingstone, the first white man to see it. He decided to name it after his queen, I guess the real name just wasn’t good enough. Well at least the Mosi name lives in the form of Zambia’s favourite beer. The van stopped outside the modest entry gate to the national park. We all exited and paid our $10 U.S. entry fee. Again a fee that was posted only in U.S. dollars. I asked, “Can I pay in Kwacha?” “Yes, no problem”. With the rate they used it worked out to be a few dollars cheaper to pay in kwacha. I figure you have your own currency you should use it.

We entered the park and walked along a path through the forest. We passed some vervet monkeys and a man selling paintings then we caught our first glimpse of the falls. Through the trees I could see some water falling, but not a whole lot. We exited the forest and came to a view point on the edge of the canyon. We had a great view of the falls across from us, problem was the falls were little more than a trickle of water. There were about 3 sections that we could see that contained quite a bit of water, but most of the falls were dry. Further down as the canyon narrowed we saw a huge volume of water plunging over the side. However from our vantage point it was mostly mist we saw. Standing here looking out we could see that in the dry season Zimbabwe is the side to best view the falls. We walked as far as we could and stood at the end of the viewing area. I’ll admit it, I was disappointed. I mean we did hear it was the dry season but this was very dry, almost dried up when I compared it to photos from the rainy season. Don’t get me wrong it was still very beautiful. We began to walk back when we saw people across the canyon, atop of the falls. I wanted to get over there, but how?

Jordana and I followed the path back to the ticket office, before the office was another path that led to the other side. We reached the shore of the Zambezi river. There was not much water and plenty of exposed rocks. We waded through knee deep water and skipped along rocks and eventually reached the edge of the falls. It was incredible to think the volume of water that would be soon flowing here after the rains. Today we stood right at the edge on the falls looking way down below. Imagine doing such a thing at Niagara if there was ever such little water. Even though the volume of water just wasn’t what we hoped to be able to be standing where we are is an incredible thing.

After a couple of hours at the falls we caught a taxi back into town and stopped off at the Ocean Basket for lunch. A South African restaurant that we actually never went to there but decided wed try it here in Zambia. The food was OK if very overpriced. It began to thunder and soon after the heavy rain came. We tried to wait out the storm but eventually made a run for it when it let up. Livingstone’s streets turned very muddy with the rains, which only made the already scruffy town look that much more unattractive. We returned to Jolly Boys not overly wet and both relaxed with a books as the rain still fell.

We decided that night that the activities on offer were just way out of our price range and to be honest they weren’t really things that we had a great desire to do anyways. We came here to see the falls and that we did, one day of rest and relaxation and the next we’d be off to the capital, Lusaka. I was interested to see the countryside of Zambia. A remote and rural country that the guidebooks tout as “real Africa”, well outside of Livingstone at least. I’m not sure what that meant exactly but I figured if anything it would be less touristy.

Day 253

It felt a bit strange going to the airport, its only the 3rd flight we’ve used to get somewhere on the trip. Strange but good as well. In South America we had a clear goal, overland from Toronto south to Tierra del Fuego. Here in Africa it was a bit unclear if we had an overland goal anymore. I had hoped it was north through Zimbabwe or Mozambique but neither was going to work. We have discovered that traveling overland on a budget and doing activities in Africa is very difficult. So taking a cheap flight, like todays saves us time and probably money. Overland we’d have to go through very expensive Botswana and it would take 2 days to reach Livingstone. Today we will arrive 2 hours after take off.

The hostel had a free drop off service at the airport, one of the reasons we wanted to stay there. We checked in for the flight where we met a interesting fellow Canadian in line. She was a middle age ex-banker from Newfoundland, living in Oakville who was now running an children school in Lusaka. The school was for children affected or infected by HIV/AIDS. We walked around the shops in the newly named and renovated Oliver Tambo Airport. Soon enough we boarded our British Airways flight to Livingstone, Zambia.

The flight was quick, with a decent meal and lots of empty seats. As we neared Livingstone the pilot announced out the left window we could view the falls. It was quite a sight below. The snaking Zambezi river with a cloud of mist rising above the green landscape, it was a beautiful sight without much civilization in view. We touched down at the small airport and pretty much drove right up to the door of the airport. Upon entering we were immediately at customs and were second in line. “$50 U.S. please”, the smiley customs agent asked from us. I never understand why countries demand payment for a visa in a currency other than their own. Zambia will only accept $50 American and nothing else. I’m not sure what happens if you don’t have it but lucky enough I keep a stash for situations just like this. Don’t tell any muggers that.

We have booked 3 nights at Jolly Boys Backpackers here and they had free airport pickup. We quickly grabbed our bags from the carousel and I excitedly searched for a sign with my name on it. I’ve never had anyone pick me up from the airport before with one of those signs. “Jolly Boys – Michael Coroneos”. I looked, and nothing. From the runway to customs to baggage claim to the airport exit was about 50 meters so we were just about outside. Where was my sign?! “Sir, do you need a taxi?” A man asked. “No, there should be someone here picking us up, Jolly Boys”. He led us outside where a large man was having a smoke while holding a small chalk board. It read “Michael”, I was disappointed. This wasn’t the way I pictured my first time being picked up at an airport to be. We’ll have to try again somewhere else.

Nevertheless he was a friendly guy and soon enough we were pulling into Jolly Boys Backpackers. We checked in and settled into our neat little thatch a-frame bungalow. It was well designed with screens all around for ventilation and a good fan. The hostel was pretty nice, a pool, bar and even small gift shop. Jordana and I set out to get some Zambian Kwacha from an ATM and find some early dinner. Livingstone is surprisingly pretty much a simple one street town. Its a bustling street but I pictured something different for such a touristy spot. With the falls 11km away most of the upscale accommodation is located outside the town, so its actually not a very touristy place.

“Money?! Money?! Change here!” It seemed every other guy on the street was a money changer. I just used the ATM to withdrawal money but I did have some South African Rand I changed with one guy to $ U.S. for a great rate. Gotta love the black market. It didn’t take long for Jordana and I to notice how friendly everyone seemed. People smiled as the walked the street and even the ones that tried to change money or sell us something just wanted to say hi and know how we were after they knew we weren’t needing their business services. One young man selling wood cravings just wanted something from Canada to trade for something he had made. Really, he didn’t want any money. We felt bad cause we don’t have anything “Canadian” with us, we used to but have given it all away already. For dinner we found a strange Zambian pub where American country music played. We talked about the friendly people of the day and tried to decide what activities we may want to try here. Apart from Victoria Falls everything from white water rafting to bungee jumping or walking with lion cubs is on offer. Problem is it all comes at a steep price. Tomorrow we are off to see Victoria Falls, a place I’ve heard makes Niagara look small. We shall see.

Day 252

Besides being a comfortable room with a fantastic view one of the biggest benefits of staying at the Monte Carlo hotel was the location. Our Translux bus to Jo’burg left just up the street, a 5 minute walk away.

We arrived at the bus office, international buses leave from their own offices and not the chaotic bus station. We actually booked our tickets online and easily checked in for the bus and boarded. We sat in the front row of the doubledecker bus which afforded us great views of the road. The a/c was turned on and off we went back to South Africa. The border crossing was quick and easy on both sides. We passed the gates to Kruger, through Nelspruit and through some beautiful countryside before arriving in Jo’burg late in the day.
Park Station is located in the centre of Jo’burg, one of the areas that gives the city its reputation for being dangerous. We are planning to stay out near the airport at a hostel named Shoestrings, but first we needed a taxi. we met two girls from New Brunswick on the bus who were also flying out the next day. I recommended Shoestrings to them and we all split a taxi there to save on the cost.

Two days ago when we decided to leave Mozambique early we bought a flight from Jo’burg to Livingstone, Zambia, home to Victoria Falls. We fly out in the morning so that’s why we are staying across the highway from the airport at the Shoestrings. We arrived Shoestrings hostel, which was in a residential suburb. It was a nice place with a swimming pool and for $23 we had a decent room with bathroom. Two nights ago that much cash got us a grass hut with sand floor.
We made dinner at the hostel and met a couple from Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. They were in Jo’burg shopping because of the severe shortages in Zimbabwe. It was interesting to talk with them about life in Zimbabwe and they tried to convince us that Zimbabwe was the better side to view the falls. Maybe so, but with food shortages and hyperinflation I wasn’t so sure of that. We spent the rest of the evening on the internet and chatting with the friendly owners, who were black. A rarity here, to my knowledge the first black owned South African hostel we stayed at. I went to bed that night excited about seeing one of the most beautiful sights in Africa and to finally be moving north of South Africa.

Day 251

Getting up at 3:30am doesn’t seem right. I could hear people coming back from partying the night before, it shouldn’t be an hour to start your day. Then again the benefits of a 4am bus are plenty. The first few hours will be in darkness so it’ll be cool. We will arrive in Maputo early, wait is that a good thing? OK there are some benefits.

We both had real seats for this trip, no folding seats, although the bus was just as packed. We sat at the back so there was no chance of any children getting sick behind me today. One advantage of an early bus was that time seems to go by quickly. It was 8am when we stopped for a washroom break and half the journey was already completed. It had gone by quickly. Well it did until the heat of the day started to build and with it the scents of the bus were unleashed. Body odour being the most prevalent, closely followed by fish and several unidentified scents. They could use a few of those scented pine trees you hang from the rear view mirror here.

Just after noon we rolled into bustling Maputo. We made our way back to Base Backpackers. This time we decided if they didn’t have a double room then we would go back to the same hotel we were at before. Of course they didn’t have a double room so off we went. Before we got in a taxi I figured we should checkout the Monte Carlo hotel directly diagonal to the hostel. It looked nice but who knew maybe it wasn’t too expensive. It wasn’t cheap at $80 but we decided to splurge out once again for our last night in Mozambique. We justified it with the fact that we could easily walk to our bus in the morning and the room we got was great! We had a sweeping view of the harbour and a room that was easily the same quality of a good hotel back home. Quite a contrast from our sand floor hut the previous two nights. We enjoyed our a/c, movie channels and once again ordered in pizza. I knew that all this luxury was going to be short lived. Once we reach Zambia and on to Malawi etc. Rooms like this will be few and far between even if we could afford them each night. So we appreciated it for the night before we got on a bus back to Johannesburg in the morning.