From Malawi to Zambia

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We set off from Lilongwe at around midday and headed for the Zambian border. We managed to get our passports stamped by the friendliest of folk to exit Malawi, headed across “no man’s land” up to Zambian border patrol. We were there for about another hour and a half in stifling heat waiting to sort all our paperwork, visas etc, with the authorities deciding to let the Irish in free aklong with the Kiwis, charging the Aussies US$50 to get in then the British US$150! A HUNDRED AND FIFTY!?!?!?! Just to get from one roasting hot country into another where the people are about as friendly as Zanzibar on a Saturday evening (Zanzibar, Derby that is, not Zanzibar, Tanzania). Anyway, we managed to fend off the lucky men selling Zambian currency (after we’d done some wheeling dealing with them ourselves), warm Fanta and bracelets and were off on our merry way towards a campsite outside Chipata inside Zambia.

There we ended up in the bar drinking more local beer, and met a couple of guys travelling on their motorbikes from Venice to Cape Town in about two and a half months. Took us a while to get their names as we just kept calling them Ewan and Charley but turns out it was Julio (we think) and Joseph. They were travelling with Joseph’s dad who was 60 something and another guy who was 68. Hope I’m doing something like that when I’m 68 instead of wetting myself (he may have been wetting himself on the bike for all we know I suppose but better on a Yamaha than at home on the couch). We were to see them again at the next campsite outside Lusaka, where we stayed the following night after the hottest day on the truck so far.

It was well into the late 30’s on one of the longest drive days yet, again setting off at stupid o’clock. By just after lunchtime, we were close to running out of water, with the crew not being able to refill the tank on board with clean water. Lizzie was really feeling the heat but luckily I was there for her. I thought to myself, “What would Bear Grylls do?” With that I decided there was nothing left to do but urinate in her water bottle for her, as her aim was shoddy (Many of the girls were often trotting back to the truck after toilet stops in snake, spider and scorpion ridden terrain in need of a little dettol application to their unexpectedly splashed feet). Anyway, just as I was about to retire to the privacy of the back of the truck, we arrived at Spar (That’s right, Spar) where we were able to stock up again on snacks and non-urine based refreshment.

At the campsite there were again wild game running through the campsite and we managed to follow some Zebra through where our tents were pitched before retiring to bed ready for our final drive of the tour into Livingstone.

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Photos

Longio Wayio Downio
Real life Ewan and Charley, Julio and Joseph