Master Card is heavily preferred in the Vic Falls region. In honor of this tragedy (since I use Visa), I am going to pay homage to them with a commercial.
Flights - $1100
Lodging - $500
Visas - $370
Activities/Food/Transfers - $1200
Extreme Africa – Priceless
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| Photo album made with Smilebox |
In the first 30 hours of our trip, we entered and exited a country 9 times. In the EU, not such a big deal; in Southern Africa, hectic. First off, the boarders are not next to each other. When you exit one country, there is the obligatory paperwork and stamping of visas, and then you walk out. But the driver that got you there can go no further, so you have to hitch a ride a mile or more through “No man’s land” to the next boarder, go through the visa and paperwork dance all over again, and catch yet another ride onward. Not to mention the fact that no one actually checks your documents so if you just stayed in a car or walked around the counter, no one would be the wiser of your illegitimate entry (or you just pop through the fence, to which there are many holes).
God forbid you talk to these guys. When told I would have to pay $45 for each of the kids to enter Zimbabwe (not needed in Zambia 10 min earlier), I said, “You guys aren’t messing around.” The immigration officers were stern, and one asked me to explain. I said that meant it was serious and he said, “Don’t make fun of us.” I told him I wasn’t and continued with the paperwork. Then the driver came in and I told him that children did in fact need visas, something he said was not need in the car. The officer pounded on the window and yelled “Do you want to come in?” When I said yes, he told me to fill out the paper work. I scoffed back saying that I would have had the paperwork filled out already but this guy lead me wrong. He responded by saying that he worked for immigration, not that guy. After getting threatened a few more times, I said screw it, and I would just spend my money in Zambia. The drivers tried to intervene but this guy had a stick up his ass. I told him I never meant to offend him but he didn’t relent. But the paperwork was ultimately stamped and we moved on. Luckily, we found every other person in Zim to be pleasant and cooperative.
All except for the people selling stuff on the street, that is. Their favorite thing to sell, besides the typical African woodwork, is fake money. Some idiot foreigner long ago got overly excited at the high denominations of their money, and they saw a fish right away. Now you can’t walk 100m without someone coming up to you trying to see you these bank notes saying “1 billion dollars” and other various amounts. They want $10 for the set of them. And what is most frustrating is that they don’t change their pitch. They just keep telling you the price over and over. One time I was on the train and this guy wanted to sell me hippo statutes. After repeatedly saying No, and that I lived in SA and had stuff like that already, he went from $10 for the pair to $8. I still told him I didn’t need it. He waited me out 5 min. and then said, “$10.” Laughing that my deal had expired, the train pulled away, but not before another tourist yelled at a man who tried to use the “you are rich, I am hungry” pitch. She lit into him big time. Not a selling point.
Chobe Park in Botswana proved to be a valuable addition. We had to pony up $175 for each adult (and although they said 50% for Taelyn, they also told us to tell everyone she was 2 years old so she didn’t have to pay. We were asked lots but stuck to it, not loving the deception but now on the hook by the booking people who only charged us $350). After a lengthy drive to the boarder (1 hour), picking up people, and getting to the lodge, we finally departed on the boat on the Chobe River. This pontoon had drinks and snacks and we drifted for 3 hours looking at buffalo, crocs, and lots of birds, hippo, and elephant. By noon the heat of the day brought the elephants to the water and hundreds of them splashed in the tide. We docked for lunch and headed out on a drive for the afternoon. The heat was stifling and we saw much of the same as the morning, but from a different viewpoint. The dichotomy was interesting and the wildlife diverse, much like Tanzania when we could see so much from one spot. Word of a kudu kill came over the radio and we raced to it, but the lions were not guarding it. But a great game experience none the less.
Our home base for the week was Vic Falls Rest Camp in the town of Vic Falls. A combination of chalets and tents, it had a good restaurant and pool. We had two bedrooms and fans, plus a kitchen, but the place was quaint and all concrete, suggesting we should have paid about half of what we did. Within a short walk were all of the restaurants and attractions of town, and we ate twice at the lovely Victoria Falls Hotel overlooking the river. It was a scene straight out of early 20th century Africa, with the large white buildings and the British on safari. Speaking of, why do people continue to come to Africa dressed like they are going to actually hunt in the bush? They buy these expensive khaki shirts, pants, and ridiculous hats, probably thinking they blend in. I can’t help but wonder if the local Africans just see them sticking out more…after all, it isn’t the animals you are fooling. The large diesel Land Rover with raised seats rumbles up next to the elephant and the guide starts talking…it isn’t like you are hidden in your fancy “safari” uniform. They can still see you, and you will never wear these expensive clothes again.
The highlight of any adventurer has to be the Zambezi River. With its bungee jump, Fox Swing, and rafting, you can get your thrills all right here. We opted for rafting (leaving the kids in the care of a housekeeper at the lodge). The typical briefing and ride to the river left us very unsure of what we were getting into. It ran $130 per person (with $10 pp park fees on top of that) and you are subjected to a terrifying descent into the gorge on foot over busted ladders, near vertical stairs missing handrails, and across large rocks for hundreds of meters. Most had never gone rafting before, and many fell for the “that is a left-handed paddle; you need a right handed one.” We thought we got the better of the boats, but soon we realized we were wrong, and we paid the price. Rafting works best when you have a good team. People paddling in time help you hit the right lines and avoid getting tossed in the water. Of the 8 guests in our boat, 4 didn’t do anything. We had a Russian guy who wanted to sit up front, but he paddled fast (taking no water) and I couldn’t keep with him. Plus, he would not listen to the guide’s call to start paddling and he often stopped with no order. His wife was worthless, and there was a girl in the back who was weak. But let’s not forget about our Belgian friend in the back who was so scared she just spent the whole time crying. Into Rapid #4 (our first class 5), we hit the wrong line and over we went. It was a long rapid and Sarah and I were underwater for 10 seconds or more, experiencing what it feels like to be a pair of jeans in a washing machine, coming up into waves and going under again. Hands down, the scariest time in our lives. Moments later, we hit another rapid and flipped again. This time, my Russian counterpart was paddling backwards into the rapid! I ended up 500m downstream in a boat with other people. Sarah and our new Canadian friend, Mark, spoke to the guide and said, something needed to change. When I reboarded the boat, the guide walked to the front and said, “Don’t take it personally, but you need to sit here,” and delegated our lazy friend to the 3rd seat. They told me to move to the front and when I looked around, people told me it wasn’t a request but an order. Back to the front I went. We managed to keep the boat upright for a while. Just before the most gnarly part of the river, we hit another rapid. Our guide offered a choice: go left and we were to flip certainly; go right and we could expect a decent ride. Mark and I yelled Left, but most people were content to stay in the boat. But as we neared the rapid, we ended up far left, and into the drink we went again. When I mentioned that was not right, the guide said shh, it is a $#%^ing secret. Some of us were laughing more than others.
All was good for the next few hours, thought we paddled a ton on this trip and were very sore and tired from all the work. The last significant rapid, 18 of 19, was another class 5. Not only did we miss this one, but we flipped straight up and over. Being in front, I had the biggest fall from the top, and because of the power of the rapid, was slammed into something – a rock, the boat, Mark – but things went black, there was a rush of pain, and I surfaced 50m downstream with my knee on fire. It took another 2 minutes of floating before I could move, and then struggled to the boat. Mark climbed back on with a large abrasion on his face. Everyone was sore, and soon we were paddling again to get to the end. After exiting the boat, we had a 20 minute walk up the side of the mountain (it took others twice as long). Remember, we paid for this.
With a day left to kill, we booked a train ride out to the bridge. It was $40 a person, but the kids were free. A small, 1-car tram took about 7 of us through the brush where animals roamed and out to the bridge that spans the river between Zambia and Zimbabwe. We had cocktails and chatted with other passengers. Once at the bridge, we dodged people hawking crap and were poured garbage champagne while taking pictures of the river and setting sun. More cocktails, some tapas, and a ride back capped off a nice evening. The next morning we booked it out of town. Having hired a private driver, we were able to go to the boarder and have a local take our passports and jump the long queue for stamps. We arrived at the Royal Livingston Hotel in Zambia. It was here we would embark by boat out to Livingstone Island, the place where David Livingstone was first taken to view the falls over 150 years ago. The purpose of this excursion was to jump in the notorious Devil’s Pool – a pocket of water at the edge of the falls. At the lowest water levels, one can jump into the river and not be swept over the falls. The most exciting part was lying on the rock ledge and looking straight down 100m to the floor of the valley. Follow up this exhilarating adventure was a luxury breakfast in the bush.
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| Taking the plunge into Devil's Pool |
Note to travelers: Do NOT forget your Yellow Fever vaccination cards when traveling in Southern Africa.
