Travel log Zambia - Second Visit
Thursday 26-10 (495 km)
The 40 kilometres of dirt road from the Kapishya Campsite to the main road, takes us almost an hour. Then we are on an excellent main road for almost 500 km. The land, with the exception of some villages such as Mpika and Serenje, is almost deserted. Almost no people, no cattle and very few signs of subsistence agriculture. Now and then, along the road, there is a charcoal depot. Charcoal that is (illegally?) made in the interior, collected by traders and then, probably, exported to Saudi Arabia. Another 10 years and there will be few trees left in northern Zambia. Every 100 km or so, we pass a Food Relief Depot. Not a really hopeful sight either. At a certain moment we are less than 5 km from the Congolese border and see dense forests on the “other” side. Since we left Tunduma in Tanzania, we have been out of reach of any mobile phone system. The Iridium satellite phone is our only back up. In Mukushi, and rather to our surprise, we find an excellent campsite, the Forest Inn Campsite. Shady places with green grass and very clean and adequate ablution and shower blocks. The restaurant, as we find out later, serves decent food and we have an enjoyable evening disagreeing with each other about the merits of science in general and those of “natural healing practices” in particular.
Friday 27-10 (285 km)
At 09.00 hours we have finally packed Wa Bashasha and are, via Kabwe, on our way to Lusaka. The road is excellent and we make good progress. Soon the empty wilderness of northern Zambia gives way to irrigated farm land and reading the names on the farm signposts - Byker, Staal and Beusekom - it is obvious we are in white farmers territory again. By the time we arrive in the centre of Lusaka - Mandala Shopping Centre - it is almost 14.00 hours. For the first time in more than a week, we have a luxurious lunch. In the “Irish Pub”, the beer is cold and the hamburgers with fried onion rings and chips are reasonable. Afterwards we restock our supplies from Shoprite and manage to get some money from a Standard Chartered ATM. When we want to leave the centre, there is a complete traffic jam and it takes us more than an hour to get on the road again. Twelve kilometres outside Lusaka, the Eureka Campsite is signposted and ten minutes later we unload our luggage at the three-bed chalet we have hired.
Eureka Camp site
The campsite is spacey and clean and after dinner we watch the eland antelopes and the zebras walking through the camp. However, we should not have been contended too early. At about 19.00 hours, a bunch of young Indians arrive to throw a party. As it happens, with their shouting, music and love making they keep us from our sleep until the early morning hours. In the morning, the area around their chalet looks like a battle field with empty bottles, carton boxes, paper wrappers and God knows what else. We are relieved when this young rabble is finally gone.
Saturday 28-10 (5 km)
We leave the Eureka Campsite shortly after 08.00 hours in the hope to get to the Maramba Lodge in Livingstone before dark. Ten metres before we pass the Eureka gate, there is a riffle shot like sound under the car. Paul blanches and mutters that we have sustained serious damage. One glance under the car is enough to confirm this: the bottom leaf of the front left parabolic spring has snapped. Paul's prejudice with respect to the bloody parabolic springs is once again confirmed, but that is of little help now. We limp back to the campsite, where Paul runs into the white farmer's father.
The bloody spring!!
The latter directs Paul to the tractor workshop, where a mechanic takes off the entire spring unit, disconnects the broken leaf and welds it (triangular welding). Two hours later, on a trial run, the leaf breaks again. It is now obvious that we will not leave for Livingstone anymore today. We jack up de car, take the spring off again and send the mechanic to Lusaka to try and find a spare parabolic spring. On a Saturday that will not be easy. It is 16.30 hours when the mechanic returns. Parabolic springs are nowhere to be had and a local workshop has forged one leaf taking the broken one as an example. Paul is far from pleased since he has no way of knowing how well the leaf has been hardened and quenched. However, we have little other options than trying the “bush forged parabolic spring” out on the road to Livingstone.
Biding our time in the Eureka Camp near Lusaka
Sunday 29-10 (480 km)
The trip from Lusaka to Livingstone is uneventful. The road is good and the potholes we negotiated three months ago, have all been repaired. The bush made spring keeps in one piece, but the car is definitely sagging to the left. At Maramba Lodge, there is only one camp site unoccupied. It is dusty, dirty and oppressively hot, but we have no choice.
We unfold our roof tent and Eelko pitches his shelter on some grass near the Maramba river. When, on the other side of the river, he sees a crocodile wading out of the water to have a sun bath on the river bank, he is less confident about the location of his tent. Maramba Lodge is as customer unfriendly as during our first visit. When Paul orders 2 beers and a soda at the bar and wants to take them to our table, the barmaid demands payment first. Paul's anger flares up and he explains that he only pays after we have finished our drinks. The girl, wisely, leaves it at that.
Monday 30-10 (10 km)
At 09.00 we are at Foleys Land Rovers in Livingstone to try to get something done to our left front spring. The white boss is in, but is in no mood to get out of his chair or to shake hands. “I am not touching any Series Land Rovers, they are a waste of my time!” Paul's temper flares up and he walks out, whilst I manage to get an address of a garage that is possibly willing to look at the spring: B. Nel's garage. Back in the car, Paul is still fuming about the rude Foley guy and I agree with him: he is not worth getting any customers. Nel's place is easily found and he turns out to be an elderly white Zambian who runs a workshop and who restores old timers. He and Paul seem to get along well. He promises us to put the car back straight on her wheels again. We agree to have the car at his place at 08.00 next morning. Since I am fed up with the Maramba Lodge, I ask Paul to drive to two other lodges. The first is too expensive for what they offer, but the second – the Zambezi Water Front Lodge – appears to be all right. We hire a tent with two beds. Eelko is allowed to pitch up his small tent nearby. In the afternoon, the temperature rises to well over 35 C and together with the high humidity, it makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. When I walk into our tent it is like walking into a magnetron. I immediately jump out again. The inside temperature must be well over 50 C!! We sit in the shade of some trees and wait for the sun to set and the temperature to go down. Paul is worried about the car and his mood is not as exuberant as usual.
Tuesday 31-10 (10 km)
At 08.00 sharp, we are at Nel's place. He has a good look at the springs and listens to the history of previous repairs. Then he decides to take off the left and right front springs and forge them is such a shape that the car is level again. In addition, Paul and he agree that a new petrol pump (the one that Roald took from Amsterdam to Blantyre!) will be installed. At 15.00 hours the car will be ready. To kill our time, Nel drives us to the Victoria Falls where we take the usual walk. To our utter surprise, and much to Eelko's dismay, the Zambezi carries little water and the impressive falls have been reduced to a trickle.
The mighty Victoria Falls in the end of October.
At 15.00 hours sharp we are back at Nel's place. Wa Bashasha stands straight on her wheels again: the left front spring has been re-enforced by a third leaf! Paul doubts whether that is – engineering wise – possible with parabolic springs, but Nel waves away his doubts. The new petrol pump is installed. We are all reasonably optimistic. Before we leave, we admire a renovated Ford Mustang and a bright red Morris Minor pick up. Particularly the latter, steals Paul's heart. When we have paid Nel and thank him for his efforts, he surprises us with the following wisecrack: “All the flags of African countries fly from white poles”. Even Paul had not heard that one yet. Back at the camp it is still stifling hot and a departing elderly American couple donates their electrical fan (!) to us. Now we even have a fan in our magnetron. At night, we again discuss the predicament of the African countries we have travelled so far and the role of the whites in these countries. Twenty years ago this role definitely seemed to have come to an end, but now, and with the white South Africans as a vanguard, the white influence is on the increase again. The tourist industry is dominated by them, Engen petrol stations appear everywhere and when you want anything out of the ordinary you go to Shoprite. Maybe there is some truth in Nel's wisecrack. We will think about it some more and come back to the issue later. Just before we want to go to sleep, three drunken young white Namibians raise hell in the tent next to ours. Paul keeps quiet for a quarter of an hour or so, but then challenges them. A moment I am afraid the brawl will end in a serious fist fight and Paul, apparently, is in the mood. In the end, however, common sense prevails. Zambia is working on our nerves and we are looking forward to reaching Namibia tomorrow.
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