We’re not sure if Donny is cursed or if I’ve just been lucky, but his bag’s gone missing AGAIN! Thats 2 for 2. After losing hope the bag was just taking too long to be unloaded from the flight from Cape Town (via Johannesburg) we filled out the now-familiar forms with South African Airlines and grabbed the taxi sent for us. We paid what we had been instructed to by the tour company ($35 each) though it seemed like a lot for a 6 km ride.
We got a tent assigned from Absolut, and met our guide and leader, Heath. He and our driver, VJ are Zimbabwean (the trip usually starts from there) and seem very nice. Camping was $4 a day until the trip left, and Donny borrowed a kids-sized sleeping bag until we got his bag or bought something else. Fortunately, we had carried our rollmats on. Heath advised us to get some local currency, since it was Saturday, and money change bureaus would be closing.
Livingstone was dusty and potholed, but a bustling colorful town. There’s one main street with a supermarket, shops, internet, the post office and a couple of banks/ATMs. Unfortunately, our debit card wouldn’t work in a single place. It seems VISA is the preferred card to have in Zambia (and Botswana as well, we would later find out). With no access to cash, and not having brought our passports to change money, we were getting VERY hungry, but back at Grubby’s Grotto, (where we would be camping for the next few days before the tour got underway) we found someone to change some US bills for Zambian kwacha. PHEW! We raced back to the grocery and bought some things for the next couple of days.
The temperature change from Cape Town was drastic, but as the sun went down it cooled off quite a bit. The atmosphere as a whole was quite a change. Zambia seemed more like the image of Africa most people have in mind when they think of the dark continent. Livingstone was clearly a hub for the overland trucks on their routes, and there were lots of touists heading from the airport to the more luxurious accommodations along the Zambezi River, but it still seemed more different, more real than our urban introduction in Cape Town. The market on the main street was filled with vendors selling their handicrafts: wood and soapstone carvings, baskets, weaving, beadwork. Women passed by in colorful skirts and wraps carrying alternatively a small child in a cloth sling or a large load on her head…sometimes both. Away from the market there was no pressure to buy things, and we felt pretty safe in town.
We ended up heading back there with some of the group (15 of us in all) for dinner. I had a delicious chicken espetada dish of seasoned chuncks of chicksn and vegetables on a very dramatic hanging skewer. Salad and potatoes were the side. More good news: cider is just as easy to find as beer here in Africa! We had a lovely evening chatting with people who had started the trip earlier in Nairobi, Kenya. For some, Livingstone was their last stop. Others would be continuing down to Johannesburg to fly home, while others would continue to Cape Town on our truck. We were sorry to see some of the guys not continue on, but happy to end up in a nice small group of 16!
