False speeding tickets, overcharging for camping and very poor facilities. Zambia was not my favourite place at the moment. We drove away from the Bengweulu Swamps with a very bad taste in our mouths, increasingly keen to get out of this country and into somewhere that would be more friendly towards visitors.
We had a few options to shorten our visit here, or we could leave straight away and head into Malawi. But we decided to keep positive and try to at least do a few more things on our itinerary before giving up.
The drive out of the swamps would take us between four and five rough and bumpy hours so we had decided to stay in the town of Mpika before trying to make it to the famous Kapishya hot springs. Mpika turned out to be a small place but it had a back packers lodge with a campsite that was very cheap and highly thought of. We arrived and checked in to find a nice atmosphere and absolutely spotless private ablutions all to ourselves. It was such a relief – a clean shower, a working toilet, hot and cold water! Sadly there were no pizzas as they had run out of cheese but there were plenty of other options on the menu.
We headed into town to stock up on food as our supplies had become perilously low. A tiny, local supermarket surprised us by having almost everything we needed – all except fruit, vegetables, meat and bread. We bought fruit and veg from street sellers and a bread shop sold us thirty wonderful, freshly baked rolls for about 20p. Meat was a little more difficult, there were plenty of meat sellers around but their shops were full of flies and the smell of rotting meat was more than a little off-putting. But eventually we found Zambeef, a local chain where we bought fresh chicken, pork and beef.
Our food stocks were refilled but our cash stocks were low in a cash dependent country. We went to three or four cash machines before we found somewhere that would accept international cards and actually had cash. The difficulties meant we took out far more than we normally would just in case but at least we were now ready for the next leg of our journey.
The Kapishya hot springs were only a couple of hours away and on the way we again passed a number of mushrooms sellers – mushrooms seemed to be the thing around here. We pulled over to buy one from a couple of kids and their Dad came over to help with the sale. The mushrooms didn´t look as good as our last one but the family clearly had very little so we paid them what they wanted and also gave them eight of our new bread rolls as well as a bottle of Coke. They looked thrilled and our raggedy mushroom went into the fridge.
When we arrived at the hot springs we found that some of the South African group we had met at the bird sanctuary were there
We chatted to them and admired their vehicles for a while before heading to the bar to pay for our stay and have a drink. On route we passed the springs themselves and they looked lovely
I couldn´t help but have a paddle
At the bar we paid another eye-wateringly high price for our camping and were told that if we wanted wifi or power there would be an extra cost. We declined. The drinks cost more than they would in a trendy bar in London and we would have had to take out a mortgage on Henry to afford a meal here! We sat in the garden with our drinks
But there were so many mosquitoes we quickly headed back through the forest to the campsite
We set everything out ready to cook dinner and I went into the fridge to get the new mushroom. I reached out to pick it up but as my hands touched it I realised there was no mushroom left – instead my fingers sank into a seething mass of maggots. With a grimace I carefully scooped up as much of the mess as I could and James took it off me to dispose of it. I had to admit I wasn´t up to the job of cleaning the fridge out so, true to form, James rolled up his sleeves, emptied everything out and got rid of every trace of maggot.
We were clean again but we weren´t in the mood for too much at dinner. Our ZamBeef was actually very nice and to cheer ourselves up I finally opened the posh bottle of wine James had bought me for my birthday.
We had planned to go to the Shiwa Ngamu manor house the next day but found out too late that it was only open until 10am. We decided instead to spend the day by the river and enjoy the beautiful hot springs
The springs were wonderful. Warm, clean, well kept.
The campsite might have been expensive, the ablutions may have been small and filthy and we were being eaten alive by mosquitoes. But the springs themselves made up for it.
We finally made it to Shiwa Ngamu the next day. This impressive old house was built in the 1920s by an eccentric European in the style of a traditional English stately home
The current owners are part of the same family as the owners of the hot springs so we were expecting high prices and poor service. When we first arrived the signage was confusing and we struggled to find the way in. We were fed up, irritated and just about to leave when we saw the owner coming down the garden waving and smiling at us. She told us to leave the Landrover where it was and come on up to the house
We were immediately struck by her warmth and friendliness, so different from what we had been experiencing over the last few days. She chatted to us about her family history and that of the house. And she was brutally honest about the challenges of maintaining a place like this.
We started our tour in the chapel then went into the main house
It was fascinating.
As was the insider information she gave us on the Kuimba Shiri bird sanctuary, the Bengweulu Swamps and the Kapishya Hot Springs. Very eye opening to find out the background to the problems we had been facing with poor conditions and high prices. It seems not everyone in Zambia agrees that fleecing tourists is such a good idea!
We spent over two hours with our host and her husband, sharing stories and putting the world to rights.
And at the end of it they waived their usual tour fee, invited us to spend time looking around their wider estate and had cheered us up immeasurably
What a difference one good encounter can make to your view of an entire country!
Our next stop was to be back on the Waterfall Route. Enroute we passed the now-familiar signs for schools everywhere but also here in Zambia we noticed many signs for cooperatives, enterprises and ministries of anything and everything. There were 7th Day Adventist churches and Kingdom Halls of Jehovah´s Witness in every town and village.
But I was most fascinated by the frequent signs for the Chief´s Palaces – reinforcing what we had been told about the tribal structure here
The three waterfalls of Chisimba are inhabited by spirits who don´t allow anger or harsh words in their territory. We were going to have to behave!
When we arrived we yet again found ourselves in a beautiful setting but the camping was in the car park with a small and run down toilet in one corner. Again no shower and patchy water. But they did have hand soap!
The conditions we had been living in here in Zambia had got to the point where we were starting to get ill. Upset stomachs were a regular event and we quite often found we didn´t want to eat a great deal. The heat and humidity wasn´t helping and neither were the hundreds of mosquito bites we had all over our bodies – which even antihistamine wasn´t helping.
But we were happy here at these waterfalls. It was very serene and the staff were welcoming.
We walked to the first waterfall. It was a short walk but a little muddy and absolutely sweltering
The view at the end was worth the effort
From there we doubled back to the second waterfall which was really more of a weir but equally pretty
The third and final waterfall was by the far biggest, this was Chisimba itself
There was a steep and slippery path down to the bottom down which a group of local Zambians headed. We heard them shouting and laughing in the spray having a great time but decided to stay at the top where we could enjoy the fabulous views and avoid the breath-sapping steep climb!
Back at the campsite there was a small bar by the information centre that was popular with the locals. There was music and chatter but nothing that worried us. The site manager, however, was concerned about our comfort and told us that the bar would close at 6:30pm when he went home and we would be left in peace for the rest of the night.
He was right, the bar did close when he went but as soon as he was gone they reopened! The music, lights and laughter went on until 10:30pm after which we had a happy and peaceful night´s sleep. As far as we were concerned all was good and when the manager returned the next morning and came to ask how our night had been we laughed about the bar reopening. But he wasn’t laughing, he was very upset. He apologised over and over again despite our reassurances that it was all fine. Eventually he asked me to walk with him to the supervisor´s office where I received a formal apology and a promise to take the bar to task over their behaviour.
I felt a little guilty having had no intention of getting anyone into trouble!
We were now firmly on the Waterfall route and our next stop was the Chilambwe Falls. It was tucked away behind a small village and as we approached the barrier where payment was to be made a small party of villagers came to greet us. The main spokesman was a little drunk and quite funny. He started at a very high price and we said we would turn back. His price came down slowly until we reached an agreement. The barrier was lifted and we drove through. Just as we were on our way he ran up and grinned in through my open window – just a little something for him personally? We suggested he had more than enough in his hand already and made a quick exit.
These falls were pretty
The path through the forest split allowing views from two different sides
As we left we suspected the barrier wouldn´t be lifted to let us go without further payment but we misjudged the villagers. They ran up with big smiles and waves and let us straight through.
So far our waterfall journey had been lovely but there was something about Zambia that just wasn´t sitting comfortably with us. We felt generally taken advantage of all the time, having to put up with terrible conditions for high prices and many people who just seemed to have their hands out. Zambia is an economic success story, why did it have to be like this?
We pressed on to the Kamuna Falls. The route took us off the main road onto a poor, bumpy and soggy track through a village. The people looked at us surprised but smiled as we passed. We drove round and round but found no sign of any falls.
Frustrated we turned around and started driving to Lumungwe Falls. These are supposed to be spectacular, in the same league as Victoria Falls and Kalandula Falls in Angola. In fact they are known as the Little Vic Falls.
We got as far as the town of Mporokoso and had been told it would be about two hours from there. But the road was so bad we couldn´t do more than 20-30km, carefully manoeuvring around deep ruts and potholes and negotiating huge puddles. It was clear this would take us many, many hours.
We were fed up. We were tired, dirty and rather at the end of our tethers. Was it all to do with Zambia itself or were we just exhausted from dealing with the constant challenges of being on the road? Who knows but right now we were not enjoying our travels.
We turned around and headed back to Mporokoso. There was supposed to be a clean and cheap motel in the town where we could rest up for the night. Or we could grit our teeth and drive the five hours it would take to get to our next destination – Lake Tanganyika. The lake was a huge detour between Mporokoso and our exit into Malawi – in fact we would have to drive the same five hours back to Mporokoso again beore heading in that direction. At this stage we weren´t even sure we wanted to go. There was a huge attraction to giving up on Zambia altogether and heading straight for the warm arms of Malawi.
Unexcited by the thought of doing any more in Zambia but unwilling to give up altogether we decided to stay in the motel, get a good night´s sleep and think about it in the morning. The sat nav didn’t know the motel but Google did. It appeared to be deep in the middle of the town and we started following the map. One road after the next was impassible, didn´t exist or was just a footpath. Round and round we went, increasingly exasperated until James threw the towel in and suggested we just drive the five hours to the lake and be done with it.
At 2pm in the afternoon it was a brave, rather wreckless, decision but what else could we do, there was nowhere else to stay for the night anywhere closer. So we re-set the sat nav and headed out of town with a big black cloud hanging over our heads.
Two minutes later, just as we were driving down the main road, I was looking morosely out of my window when I jumped, pointed and exclaimed – there was the motel! Nowhere near where Google said it was, in fact about as easy to get to as it could have been!
We checked in and were given a clean and comfortable ensuite room with a proper double bed for less than half the price we had been paying for grim campsites
They let us cook our own dinner outside. And Henry was safely parked next to our window where we could keep an eye on him and where James could work on the handbrake cable which had been sticking for the last couple of days.
Just after dinner the heavens opened and torrential rain poured down
But we weren´t trying to drive difficult dirt roads in the dark and wet, we were safe and warm and relaxed after a hot shower in our clean and comfortable motel room. We slept well that night and everything was looking a little better by the morning.
We started off for Lake Tanganyika early the next day having decided not to cut Zambia so short that we missed what could possibly be the best bit. At first the road was terrible, the rains the previous day had not helped. But after about an hour they smoothed out, dried out and were really very easy to drive
The journey only took us four and a half hours and we were very pleased when we finally caught our first glimpse of the lake
When we arrived at the campsite we were greeted by the manager who was extremely friendly and helpful. The view was breath-taking
The sun was warm, everything was drying out and there were no mosquitoes
The ablutions were spotless, modern, pretty even – and everything worked.
We were adopted by their little Jack Russell, Tickles, who became my shadow for the next few days, wanting bottles and sticks throwing every five minutes but being unable to find them most of the time! I was escorted to the toilets everytime I needed to go and he sat outside waiting to escort me back once I´d finished
We were so pleased, we had definitely made the decision to come here. It felt as though a huge weight had dropped off us and we could relax and enjoy our travels again
We had been in bed for about half an hour that night when the rains started. Loud crashes of thunder, bolts of lightening so bright it was like daytime and the rain was so powerful it was driving in through the seams of the roof. We quickly dropped all the windows but forget that the portholes were still open. When water started dripping onto my face we realised the mistake and closed them as well. We spent half an hour wiping everywhere down with a towel but the water was still oozing its way in.
I was dying for the toilet but how could I go out in this? Eventually nature left me with no choice. I threw on my nightshirt and flip flops and jumped out. It felt like I was being battered by the rain, I could hardly open my eyes and even though I was out there for less than 30 seconds by the time I got back in I was so wet I had to ring out my hair and even change my dripping wet underwear!
It was very exciting. And whilst I was outside I spotted a little face peering out from under Henry – Tickles had become so attached to us that he had chosen to stay with us, hiding from the rain as best he could, rather than go home to his warm and dry bed.
That morning we found out that someone in the nearby village had been killed by the lightening. It was very sobering to come face to face with the raw power of nature.
We were approaching the heart of the rainy season – life was wet and getting wetter. I was up at my usual time of 5:30am but it was so damp and cold with heavy, low clouds that I went straight back to bed and didn´t get up again for another two hours.
As we were camping on the beach everything was now covered in wet sand. We hung as much as we could out on our washing line to dry. When I went for my shower I had to take my boots as my flip flops would not have made it through the wet, soggy sand. But before long the sun was out and everything was drying nicely.
I went up to the bar area to do some of my blog and met two guys who were ex special forces, now working as trainers for the local anti-poaching guides. We talked for ages and when James joined me later in the afternoon he found them equally interesting to talk to about everything from Landrovers to military hardware!
We had booked a three course meal with our hosts that evening and it was wonderful. We were really enjoying our stay and the last couple of weeks of difficulties were starting to feel like a dim and distant memory.
An organised group of tourists with father and son guides joined us on the second day. They set themselves up around us taking over most of the campsite but were very friendly and even invited us to have dinner with them on their second night. We sat around their camp fire exchanging travelling stories and enjoying very good company. They hadn´t been to Zimbabwe for many years because of the troubles and were fascinated to hear about our experiences, deciding there and then to reinstate their Zimbabwean tours
On our last night Tickles sat on James´ knee all evening and slept on our camp chair by the back door all night. But that morning he must have known we were leaving as he was gone and didn´t even say goodbye – how do they know?
After saying our sad goodbyes to the tour group and our hosts we left for the long drive back to Mporokoso.
As we drove we saw people of all ages carrying farm equipment – from young children to grandparents. We saw mushroom sellers on the side of the road selling mushrooms so big they made our previous purchase look like a toy. Kids waved at us as we passed but most of them were asking for money which seemed sad.
We stopped at a roadside stall and bought a huge bag of mangoes which I greedily ate over the next few days getting mango stuck in my teeth and sticky juice all down my chin!
It only took us four hours to get back to the town and we headed straight for the same motel. This time they gave us a bigger room and charged us more but it was still such a small price we weren´t about to complain
As we were packing up to leave the next day I heard shouting, laughter and music from somewhere in the grounds. I picked up my camera and went in search of whatever was going on. I rounded a corner and saw a graduation ceremony just about to start. The younger children were fascinated by me – peering at me peering at them!
There were few shops in Mporokoso so we headed straight for the larger town of Kasama to stock up at the main supermarket there. We had stopped here a few days earlier so were confident we would get what we needed.
On the way we finally risked buying more mushrooms. This time we were much more careful and decided to buy a bag of little ones rather than a big one. The ladies selling them seemed very professional and the small, family concern was well run, so we had high hopes of a better experience this time.
We were also stopped at a police checkpoint and asked for the receipt for the council tax we had paid for when we entered Zambia at the border. This was a very obscure request and I´m sure not many visitors would be able to produce it. The police officer was grinning at us, expectantly waiting for an excuse to fine us for not having it. I fished around in our documents folder, found it and handed it over. He initially looked disappointed but then smiled, said ´what a lovely couple´ and waved us on our way.
At Kasama a drunk man tried to take money from us for parking saying it was his car park. James took no nonsense from him and barked at him to go away. At the door into the shop another man tried to charge us for a trolley but we ignored him.
We stocked up on food and fuel and even got Henry washed.
We were finally heading towards Malawi. The border was 400km away and we knew the roads were going to be bad. So we had decided to break the journey up with another farm stay, this time one which had fantastic reviews. As we were driving, our Malawi visas finally came through much to our relief – they were supposed to take three days but it had been well over a week.
When we arrived at the gates to the farm the security guard welcomed us in and directed us down the right path for the campsite. But we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere as we found ourselves driving around a maze of little tracks taking whichever turn seemed to go the right way towards the blob on Google maps.
Finally we were there and it was literally like a breath of fresh air. We were very high up here so the air was cool and damp. The farm was a deep green and it all looked remarkably like England.
We had only just pulled up when the owner, Jackie came to greet us. She was a wonderful woman, so friendly, helpful and down to earth – we warmed to her immediately. She brought us eggs and offered us some cooking oil as we´d forgotten to buy some at the supermarket.
Just as we were starting to cook, feeling as though we had found another slice of heaven, we were descended on by loads of bugs, always a problem when you try and cook in the dark as they are attracted by the torch lights. But here it seemed much worse than most places.
And as we were sitting in our camp chairs after dinner watching a movie on the laptop James suddenly jumped up batting something off his legs. We looked down and found we had been sitting on an ants nest and the ants were swarming up his legs, under his trousers, under his socks and up as far as his waist. After a few minutes of jumping up and down and knocking off as many as he could they were finally gone and we spent the rest of the evening tucked up inside Henry away from the wildlife.
Regardless of the bugs we liked this place a lot. It was beautiful, cool, peaceful and friendly. We were supposed to be going to Malawi the next day but decided we had done a lot of driving recently and wanted to have an easy day before doing battle with the border. So we stayed another night and had a relaxing day doing some admin.
I had gone to find my thick fleece the night before, the first time I had used it for many weeks, only to find it dripping wet at the bottom of my locker. On further investigation I realised that the rains had got under the door into my locker and most of my stuff was soaked. So the morning was spent hanging everything out, washing the smelliest of the items and generally organising myself. I also went up to the farmhouse where Jackie kindly printed out our Malawi visas and chatted about the road into Malawi.
This was a big concern for us. Most people cross from Zambia into Malawi in the south where there is a large and well used border post. This had not been a sensible option for us as we were generally heading north so we were trying to cross at the northern border. But there had started to be some doubt as to whether this border post actually still existed and even if it did we were hearing increasing stories about the road to the border being impassible. No-one on any of our forums or overlanding groups had tried it and no-one had any clear information. That in itself was a worry.
Jackie thought that some previous guests had tried it two weeks ago and she hadn´t seen them come back so guessed they had made it. But she didn´t have contact details for them so we couldn´t be sure. It had been a source of increasing concern for me over the last week or two and I had even started to dream about getting stuck and lost.
We consulted our paper maps to little purpose and eventually decided to try it – the alternative, afterall, was to turn around and drive three or four days back through Zambia, fighting our way back down the Great Northern Road and doing battle with the traffic through Lusaka. It didn´t appeal and if there was any chance of crossing up here we wanted to take it.
Just as we were saying our goodbyes and packing up to leave, another option came to light. It would not be too much of a detour to stop at the Nakonde border post between Zambia and Tanzania and ask there whether the border post with Malawi still existed. If the news was bad we could transit through Tanzania and into Malawi. The Tanzania borders are not easy or cheap but probably cheaper and quicker than driving nearly 1,000km back to the southern border.
We now had options, Malawi was in our sights. A heavy load was lifting and the world was looking brighter. Nothing could stop us now……or could it??
The Sidetracked Sagas 