roadtripping.

A summer in Africa!

Just to be different, this summer we decided to escape the Canadian heat by going to Africa.

Photos here - more to come later!

The town of Livingstone is about 10 km away from the falls themselves, so we hopped in a taxi to get there. The boats to Livingstone Island leave from the Royal Livingstone Lodge, accessible via a gated entry staffed by guards. Since we were clearly mazungu, they let us in automatically. Many buildings in Zambia reserve the right to refuse admission; this never seems to happen to white people, though.

The Royal Livingstone Lodge is stunning. At over $500 US per night, it should be. It was quite a change from our bus ride down the day before. Everything about the lodge is perfect - the manicured (and well-watered) grounds, the teak chaises longues, the monkeys frolicking in the trees, the slow-spinning ceiling fans, the linen hand towels, the discreet staff in safari-esque uniforms, including pith helmets - an idealised colonial experience. Amazing to think how easy it would be to fly into town, stay at the Royal Livingstone, and spend an entire vacation in Africa without having a clue what life on the continent is actually like.

We headed to the banks of the Zambezi, where people relax with cocktails on a sundeck dotted with parasols. There is a fence along the water's edge, with six rows of electrified wires sloping away from the shore, and a two-metre wide strip of sharp stones below. "Wow," I thought, "they certainly want to stop people from going into the river." I was wrong of course - the fence is to prevent traffic in the other direction, namely hippopotamuses and elephants. Sometimes the trips to the island (or the return from the island) can be delayed by the presence of animals at the shore preventing landing. We had no such troubles though.

Harry had been asleep for a short while when we got on the boat, but as soon as we picked up speed and he felt the cool air and spray on his face he woke up crying. He soon calmed down though, and enjoyed the rest of the trip.

We were greeted on arrival at Livingstone Island with a glass of maheu, a traditional Zambian drink made of ground maize and pineapple juice, among other things. I wasn't expecting to like it (I noticed a few unfinished glasses around the table) but enjoyed it so much I had seconds.

Livingstone Island is tiny, and as a historical site, there are no permanent structures allowed to be built. Anything taken on to the island must be taken off. There is an open tent where meals are served, and the "loo with a view," and that is it. It is basically untouched, and remains as it was 150 years ago, when Livingstone himself came here for the first time and "discovered" the falls. Of course local people had known about them before, but few of those who lived at the top of the falls ventured close enough to see them - the sound and spray, which give the falls their traditional name of "Mosi-oa-tunya" which means "the smoke that thunders," were so terrifying that people were afraid to venture very close.

I can't imagine what Livingstone's thoughts were when he saw the falls for the very first time - having no idea what to expect - from the island that bears his name.

I have to confess that when I first saw Niagara Falls, I felt a bit let down. It was hard to get excited - all of the tacky tourist stuff was so ubiquitous and overwhelming, and the barriers and crowds prevent you from getting too close to the action. But Livingstone Island is pristine (well, except maybe for the elephant dung), and there are no barriers. There is nothing to stop you from walking right up to the edge, to the very precipice, and looking over the water crashing down 108 metres. And the guides encourage you to do so, while holding their hand. It is impossible to describe the experience - the disbelief at even being allowed to visit such a rare and beautiful place, total awe at the beauty and destructive power of the world's greatest waterfall. Jennifer and TG forged ahead eager to look over the edge, and spend as long as possible doing so, while I hung back nervously - funny, considering I've been skydiving and had no qualms about doing that. Jumping out of an airplane seemed safer though - you are more in control - and of course since the advent of Harry, safety is very much at the forefront of my brain at all times. Much of this trip has been spent with me fretting about safety and others shaking their heads at my neurotic new-mum tendencies. There is a different attitude to safety here - you regularly see people riding in the back of pick-up trucks, many cars don't have seatbelts, and people think my insistence on putting Harry in a carseat is somewhere between quaint and stupid. I had a few anxious moments on Livingstone Island! But the beauty of it all was so worth it.

The next day we took a game drive through Mosi-oa-tunya National Park. Almost as soon as we entered, we saw impala and monkeys. Continuing deeper into the park, we saw baboons, warthogs, a flock of five giraffes (my favourite), ibis, guinea fowl, plovers, bushbucks, and on and on... We didn't see any elephants, but saw the destruction they wrought. Baobabs with the bark stripped off, palms with all leaves within reach shorn, dozens of trees knocked over. It made me not want to encounter one - they are not the docile creatures of popular imagination! Stopping for a drink by the river, we could hear (but not see) hippos on the other side of an island, and stopped to lure a few antlions out of their nests. There were a few other tourists, and the guides compared notes - unlike me, they were unimpressed with what we had seen, and traded tips on where to find elephant or the one remaining white rhino. Continuing on our drive as the sun began to set, we found more and more animals congregating in larger and larger flocks - but still just giraffes, impala, baboons, etc. Finally we spotted three zebra and then a herd of fifteen or so buffalo - the most endangered and dangerous animal in southern Africa. We watched them cross the acacia savannah as the sky turned orange. By the time we returned to Livingstone, it was dark.

And then it got darker. Just as we were getting dressed for our return to the falls, there was a blackout (a fairly common occurrence here, although they are usually fixed within an hour). Good timing in some respects, since Harry was dressed and fed (he wolfed down a shocking amount of yoghurt - we were glad the lights didn't go out while we were feeding him!) and we were leaving anyway, but the route from our suite to the street was long and convoluted by day, let alone in absolute darkness! We managed to find our way downstairs on our own, then encountered hotel staff with emergency lights who led us the rest of the way and helped us find a taxi. (When we passed by the Royal Livingstone a few minutes later, of course, it was aglow with electricity - no blackouts there.)

Taxis in Zambia are always interesting. Usually they will want to stop for gas as soon as they have a fare - often not even going to a gas station, but to someone selling gas from a jug by the side of the road, using an old water bottle as a makeshift funnel to get it into the tank. There are no metres, so one has to negotiate a rate before setting out. There are usually different rates for locals and for mazungu - we always asked locals what we should expect to pay before trying to get a car. Getting a taxi to pick up at Gogo's house in Woodlands Extension is next to impossible since there are no street names or numbers - you have to have already been to the house to find your way there - so once you have a cabbie, you take his number do you can call him again (our first designated cabbie in Lusaka was fired by Gogo for charging mazungu rates). We did this in Livingstone, too - once we got to the falls, we took the number of our cabbie, or else we would have been stuck there.

The moon hadn't risen yet when we arrived, and Harry was fussing, so we wandered away to a picnic table. All of the craft stores and the shop were closed, since the gate to the falls usually closes at 18 hours, so we didn't have to worry about bothering anyone with a nappy change. He was still fussy after he was dry, so I fed him to soothe him, and then when I burped him we found out what the problem was - he'd eaten too much too fast! That entire container of yoghurt ended up all over my jacket, chitenge, and Harry's hoodie. We cleaned up as much as we could with baby wipes, but the smell lingered. Such fun!

Once that excitement was over, we decided to head to the falls. the moon was starting to show its face on the horizon, so the action would begin soon. There are only two places in the world where you can see a lunar rainbow - the other is the much smaller and less magnificent Kentucky Falls in the United States - and you can only see it during the full moon. We were just lucky enough to be there at the right time. While Livingstone is warmer than Lusaka, as it's in a valley, the falls at night are a cold place to be because of the spray (during the wet season, we'd have needed raincoats, and would have ended up soaked anyway). Dozens of people were milling around in the darkness by the rail at the lookout by the Eastern Cataract. Even in the darkness, the falls are stunning. As the moon rose and our eyes became accustomed to the light, I realised the railing was much more open than you'd see in safety-conscious Canada - it would be so easy to slip under the top rail and plummet to the bottom! - that I got a touch of vertigo and had to step back. Slowly the moon rose golden above the trees behind us (inspiring a legion of amateur photographers to attempt to get a snap, a flurry of idiots' flashes) and the wait began. Can you see it? Where is it? I think I can see it - no. I stayed back from the edge while TG held his ground by the railing, ready to take a photo, adjusting the exposure settings for maximum clarity. (The fellow next to him was sitting on the railing, which makes my stomach a little queasy even just thinking about it). Jennifer and I took turns holding Harry and going up to the front, to get status reports from TG. Finally - we could see it! The lunar rainbow! In the beginning it was incredibly faint, no colours, just a slight shift in brightness that TG at first thought was the edge of the waterfall. Then we could see the arch creep across the dark sky, the colours appearing faintly and then disappearing again as the mists shift. It was a delicate wraith of a rainbow - I could hear some Americans complaining that their time had been wasted, I guess they were expecting technicolour - but its ethereal nature made it that much more beautiful. TG lamented that he seemed to be having no luck capturing it on film, but I kind of liked the idea that it was too rare and ephemeral for even a camera, that it was one of the few things left on earth that you had to experience in person.

As it turns out, the colours do show up in the photographs. Oh well, it doesn't diminish the amazing experience we had of being overwhelmed by the view and the vertigo and the vapours in the air.

continue to page 5

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