Fi Ramsden

We have finally arrived in Livingstone, home of the Victoria Falls.

Another early start in Kasane. No nightmares this time. We knew we were in for some logistical fun and games getting ourselves and all our gear across the Chobe river in to Zambia. Our truck had now been returned to the hire company and we were to be without our own support vehicle until Monday 8^th in Livingstone. The owner of the Thebi Lodge campsite had arranged for his logistics manager Cornelia to take Mark and Richard to the border with our gear which had been packed in to as few containers/bags as possible to speed the operation and to limit the chances of our valuables being thieved during the loading process. We wolfed down our breakfast so that Stuart and I could get a head start on the truck to arrive at the same time as the truck at the ferry crossing. Apart from a small disappearing act when Stuart went off on his bike to film some truck drivers, this was well timed. (Mark was not impressed). When the prodigal Stu retuned we regrouped and progressed speedily through the immigration process and headed to our vessel. Cornelia called in a few favours and was allowed to back the truck right up to the ferry

We loaded the bikes on first and I stood guard as the boys fetched and carried our gear on to the ferry. Only then could we really appreciate the view over the river, which was quite spectacular.

There were some men paddling in smaller boats (“Mokoros”) which we were informed contained smuggled fuel which was being taken across the border to avoid tax.

It was a short crossing. We were met as promised by Ken, the fixer for Pete Hemingway who runs a tour company out of Livingstone. Wolfie from Beyond Boundaries had put me on to Pete when he’d heard we were stuck for a truck.

After the necessary immigration process on the other side Richard got back in the saddle and we hit the road again. We were immediately struck by the difference in terrain. It was warmer, lusher and steeper! There was one particular hill which very nearly finished my off. I am pretty sure I there was smoke coming off my bike as frantically pedalled in the lowest gear I’ve had to engage on the trip so far! The bikes drew quite a bit of attention from the people on the roadside, including some immigration officials, one of whom even jumped on the back of the tandem with his AK47 slung over his shoulder! We passed many more people than we had seen in Botswana, and I later discovered that Zambia has ten times the population of Botswana spread across a similar area of land.

After 20km we took a rather bizarre pit-stop at a Polocrosse tournament to meet with Sam Turner, a family friend of Stu’s who runs a tour company out of Livingstone with her husband Chris. This was like a little pocket of colonial life only 100m from the side of the road, and was in stark contrast to what we’d been used to. We enjoyed a couple of G&T’s and a bite to eat and chatted with some of the club members before heading off on the final 20K to Livingstone. This was not before fixing a puncture which happened somehow on the sandy road in to the polo field. As Richard later put it….”Fi, you are the only person I know who could get a puncture on a bouncy castle”

After another long climb, by now in the hottest part of the afternoon, we were greeted by the most incredible view of the Zambezi in the distance. We sped towards it on the descent on the other side, and my bike reached its top speed of the trip so far (registering at 45km/hr on my speedometer). I wave of sadness-slash-accomplishment hit me as I realised that this really did symbolize the end of the journey for me and I began to well-up.

The end of the journey…that is until you log on to your email account at the Jollyboys campsite only to discover that your employer has accidentally given you the following week off work. I could not believe my eyes as I checked and checked again next week’s rota. So I made a few phone calls to the Anaesthetic registrar on call, to the airline, to my mum, and before I knew it I was signed up for another week’s pedaling in Zambia. It was late by the time I finally everything sorted and it was time to go out for my ‘not-so-farewell-dinner” when I could finally say a proper hello to the new arrival, Stuart’s cousin Harriet. The food was great but the service was painfully slow and there were a few sleepy heads at the table when we finally paid our bill and headed back to Jollyboys.

Livingstone Sunday 7th August

Breakfast at Victoria falls, “the Smoke that Thunders” I don’t think any words could do this place justices, so here are some pictures.

Quotes of the day:

Mark: “Is that it then?”

Fi: “Another shit day in Africa”