BOTSWANA (2) & ZAMBIA (2)
1346 Kilometres - 28 Days
13 April – 10 May 2022
PHOTOS
13 April – Katima Mulilo, Namibia – Muchenje Campsite,
Botswana – 101 km
Shortly after 8 a.m., Linda and I biked out of the
sad-looking town of Katima on our final ride in Namibia. The area was pan flat,
and one could understand why the Chobe River forms such a considerable floodplain. The going was effortless and we reached the Namibia-Botswana border early. Crossing into Botswana was smooth sailing, and we continued to
Muchenje camp, situated on a large swampy area sporting an abundance of
birdlife. Linda had enough of pitching her tent and chose one of the already
pitched tents, which offered a few luxuries. Her upgrade was most likely due to
the campsites being grassless and pitch dark.
Later we cycled to a nearby shop, bought a few beers
and sat on the deck until darkness fell.
14/15 April - Muchenje Campsite – Kasane – by car
As riding through the Chobi National Park wasn’t
possible, Linda organised a pick-up to take us to Kasane. Linda again opted for
comfortable accommodation in town, and I preferred the Thebe campsite. At least,
this time, it sported a lush lawn and covered area.
The best time of the morning was spent doing the usual
rest day chores and buying a Botswana SIM card.
After much deliberation, it was decided to stick to
Linda’s original plan to cycle directly from Kasane to Victoria Falls.
16/18 April – Kasane, Botswana – Livingston, Zambia -
83 km
At around 8.30 a.m., I met Linda and biked the short
distance to the Botswana/Zambian border via the new bridge. The bridge is quite
impressive and makes the old ferry obsolete. The crossing was uncomplicated but
it still took longer than anticipated. Eventually, we got going and, as always,
I found my new country fascinating.
Zambia is the first country since leaving Cape Town
where I saw the bicycle in daily use. The Zambians seem to bike more than people
from other countries and use their bikes to transport goods to the market. Roadside
stalls sold interesting squashes or pumpkins (not sure what), sugarcane and
charcoal. The people we met during the day were super friendly and made us instantly
feel at home.
The easy pedalling made for an early arrival in bustling
Livingstone, where we opted to bunk down at the popular Jollyboys Backpackers.
The following morning, Linda and I visited Victoria Falls,
where the abundance of summer rain sent such a large amount of water downstream
and over the falls, one could hardly see due to the spray. The raincoats rented
at the entrance came in handy as the fog was so severe it felt like we were
caught in a massive downpour.
19 April – Livingston – Zimba – 80 km
Linda packed for her return flight to the USA and I prepared
to pedal onwards to my next destination, Malawi, more than 1000 kilometres
away. I was in no hurry as I planned on cycling half days to make the best use
of my time in Zambia. Not much happened during the day except for markets
selling veggies, charcoal and wood. People were super friendly and interested
in where I was from and where I was heading. Midday, I pulled into Zimba, a tiny
community featuring basic lodging. The Trekking guesthouse offered rooms at a
mere 150 kwacha and included welcoming and helpful staff and staying; hence, a
no brainer.
20 April – Zimba – Choma – 114 km
Winter was fast approaching, and the temperature a mere
15°C riding out of Zimba. The way was gently undulating, but a stiff breeze
slowed the pace considerably. At least the temperature improved, but it
remained cold as I didn’t think the mercury ever rose above 26°C.
The route led past peaceful villages, roadside vendors
selling fresh veggies and jovial Zambians on bicycles. A few were carting
produce while others gave people a ride to their destinations. Others were
collecting or drying grass to be woven into sleeping mats or used in the
building of traditional huts.
Towards the end of the day, the weather came in and I
was mighty pleased to reach Choma without getting soaked. A room at the Choma
Hotel came at 175 – 250 kwacha, and thus no need to look any further.
22 April – Choma – Monze – 102 km
Emerging from the room, I discovered the rain had
subsided, thank goodness. Pedalling out of Choma, the clouds were still lying
low but, fortunately, it never rained.
The route was dotted with small but busy villages where
I was greeted with big toothy smiles and friendly greetings of “Welcome to
Zambia” and “have a safe journey.” It brought a smile to my face.
Roadside markets sold pottery, drums and wooden
sculptures. Although I stopped to chat, they understood I couldn’t buy
anything. They looked surprised that one could cycle from Cape Town, and I considered
it better to inform them of my route around the world.
Reaching the small town of Monze, I opted for a room as
the city is a mere 180 kilometres from Lusaka, and I didn’t want to rush. On
enquiring about a guesthouse, I was walked there by a friendly Zambian who
further accompanied me to the supermarket. My shopping drew much attention, and
whatever was placed in the basket was observed with great interest. As can be
expected, the poor man was bombarded with questions, and on asking him what was
said, he explained they wanted to know where he met the white woman. Hahaha!
23 April – Monze – Mazabuka – 62 km
I dragged my heels a tad as I waited for the sun to
warm the air and, as a result, it was 9 o’clock before I pointed the bike in
the direction of Lusaka.
The sun came out, and so did the butterflies and the
flowers, making for pleasant biking. Sadly, the excellent road enjoyed to date
deteriorated and turned into a narrow potholed affair. Still, the pleasant
conditions prevented me from losing my sense of humour, and I stopped numerous
times to snap a few pics. Taking pictures of people usually resulted in them
running away or running towards the camera, but mostly they want money.
Villagers were cutting and collecting the tall grass
growing by the side of the road. Not only does the African savanna contain a diverse
community of organisms that interact to form a complex food web, but it
provides ample grazing for livestock. The grass is further widely used in rural
housing and the making of brooms, brushes and other household items.
24 April – Mazabuka – Kafue – 83 km
I was nearly fooled into thinking the ride would be
downhill, but alas, that wasn’t the case. There weren’t as many villages as the
previous day and I pushed on to Kafue. Besides informal markets selling woven
baskets, mats and other items, not much happened. The main reason for
overnighting in Kafue was spotting a Pick-n-Pay as it seemed all I did was
cycle and eat. A secondary reason was that I intended to meet Caron in Blantyre
on May 21 and it was far too early.
The problem with stopping early was I seemed to eat my
way through the remainder of the day. I’ve developed a taste for Nshima, one of
Zambia's staple foods. Maise or corn is the most popular staple, and
Nshima makes up the main component of Zambian meals. It’s made from corn flour
and usually served accompanied by a "relish" stew and vegetables, and
I noticed it’s often eaten by hand. Known as pap at home.
Most interesting was the next-door mosque and disco which
seemed in competition.
25/27 April – Kafue – Lusaka – 45 km
I must’ve chatted to each person as there wasn’t much
more to do. For the first time, I met another cyclist pedalling in the opposite
direction. He, too, had to break his Cairo to Cape Town journey due to Covid
and spent two years on home soil in Australia. He has now resumed his quest and,
much like me, is ambling along in no hurry to get anywhere.
Cycling into a capital city, especially an African one,
can be nerve-wracking but biking into Lusaka was pretty straightforward.
However, it came with the usual crowded pavements where people traded their
wares, leaving no space for the sidewalks’ intended purpose. The traffic was
bumper to bumper and didn’t move at all. Most amazing was a chap herding goat,
right in the city centre and across the main road using the pedestrian bridge. The
goats obediently followed instructions, and all except one (we all know one
like that) made their way up and over the bridge. Watching what appeared total
chaos brought a smile to my face as I realised I was firmly entrenched in the African
way, where people are slow to move but quick to smile.
I eventually continued to Broads Backpackers, which
sported lovely units under thatch.
So peaceful was it, I stayed the following day, took
the bike for a service, and searched for camping gas for my stove.
The following day I rode out of Lusaka and straight
into a fierce headwind. Five kilometres down the drag, I made a U-turn and returned
to the guesthouse, as pedalling into a headwind is no fun.
I met with Dimitri the next day, an extraordinary chap
and a true adventurer. Dimitri has achieved incredible challenges and is
currently circumnavigating the world by human power only. If he can’t walk or
cycle, he rows. He plans to bike to Cape Town and then row to Brazil. Go well,
Dimitri!
30 April – Lusaka – Chinyunyu Hot Spring – 88 km
The weather was much improved, and I eventually cycled
out of Lusaka. For once, it felt like I’d the slightest of tailwinds, a welcome
change to the continuous breeze I previously pedalled into. The map indicated a
hot spring, and I stopped to investigate. The place isn’t commercialised and consequently
came without any facilities, apart from toilets but without water. The water
from the spring was boiling and it was impossible to submerge even a hand or
foot. Further downstream, people used the water to wash and do laundry, but it
was still boiling.
Seeing camping only came at 50 kwacha, I stayed put.
Later, Peter Gazzard, whom I’ve known via Facebook for many years, also pulled
in. It was fantastic to meet him as his round-the-world cycle ride of more than
eight years is nearing its end. Also camping at the spring was Phillip, who had
been biking with Peter for a few days. It’s always great to have company, and we
talked about our lives on the road.
1 May – Hot spring – Gambit Guest House – 70 km
Peter and Phillip headed further south, and I churned
my way up the hills toward the Malawian border, still a few days’ cycling away.
The road deteriorated somewhat from our overnight spot as the countryside became
hillier and the route narrower and more potholed. I swear a small car could’ve been
swallowed by one of them. Villages were few and far between, but I uncovered
one to replenish my dwindling water supply.
One thing I refrained from doing in Africa is
overtaking anyone on a bicycle, as it inevitably results in a race. No sooner
had I passed and they started pedalling like the clappers. It usually doesn’t
last long, and I soon catch up, resulting in the same procedure. Best,
therefore, to stop, have a snack and water and hopefully, they will be gone by
then.
The pavement’s condition and the hilly terrain slowed the
pace, and I called it a day on spotting Gambit Guesthouse. Deborah, the lady in
charge, walked me to the market to buy food but, in the end, she didn’t like
the look of the food and suggested purchasing the ingredients and preparing it
herself. How kind of her. The food consisted of nshima and relish made with
rape leaves, ground peanuts, onion and chillies. The meal was surprisingly delicious.
2 May –
My lack of planning came back to bite me in the ass. On
closer inspection, I realised the route between Lusaka and Malawi is relatively
rural, offering few villages and none of the usual supermarkets or ATMs. The
map indicated barely any facilities, and I thought better of it and thus returned
to the previous town to get cash.
This simple exercise turned out to be most exciting and
took the entire day. It involved waiting by the side of the road until a bus or
minivan appeared. The trip was a lengthy process as people were continuously picked
up and dropped off. Not only people but also livestock and other produce. How a
minivan can transport such a large amount of luggage and people remains a miracle.
We were squashed in like sardines, with babies on our laps and chicken at our
feet. If I believed the process fascinating, my presence was even more
intriguing to the other passengers. Kids couldn’t stop giggling, and others shyly
peered over their mothers’ shoulders while a few seemed downright scared to
death.
Eventually, three machines later (all offline) and following
a long wait at a fourth one, I managed to withdraw money and could buy more
coffee as that’s one thing I didn’t want to run out of. The return trip was
even slower but, eventually, I made it to the guesthouse sporting money in my
pocket and ready to tackle the final 400-kilometre stretch to the border.
3 May – Gambit guest house – Luangwa Bridge Camp –
Kunda Camping – 80 km
Never assume anything, my dear friend Dan always said -
that the road would descend to the Luangwa River was clearly incorrect. Gosh, I
can’t remember a hillier road, and the headwind I rode into tried to push me
back up the hills!
Still, it remained interesting. Villagers were making
and selling charcoal, and others were harvesting sorghum. On reaching the
sad-looking town of Luangwa, I turned down to the Luangwa Bridge Camp, a lovely
spot right on the river. I soon realised I’d camped here previously as I
remembered jumping into the pool, clothes and all!
Also camping were three other campers and they were fascinating
to talk to.
4 May - Luangwa Bridge Camp – Kacholola – 64 km
I woke early and was on my way shortly after 8 a.m., an
early start for me. From the low-lying Luangwa bridge, the road snaked uphill
for the best part of the day. This sparsely populated area was densely wooded,
with only the occasional village to break the monotony and fill up with water,
which got the village kids into near hysterics.
On reaching Kacholoda, I thought I’d done enough
climbing for the day and located a guesthouse. This simple exercise brought out
the entire village and soon I was in a room. Albeit without a bathroom except for
an outside toilet which required squatting over an open hole in the ground
while spiders and cockroaches crawled out. The French fries ordered made up for
the lack of bathroom facilities.
5 May - Kacholoda – Nyimba – 44 km
I don’t think the place I stayed at was all kosher as
the police came to check on my well-being and handed me their telephone number.
I didn’t know what to make of it but locked the door and didn’t venture out.
Early morning my bladder drove me to the hole in the ground, and I was on my
way earlier than usual.
Although I was assured by many that the route east was
“flat”, it was, as anticipated, not the case. At least it wasn’t all uphill
like the day prior. In fact, it was pleasant riding past numerous small
settlements where kids chanted, “how are you, how are you?” Reaching the busy
market town of Nyimba, I pulled into the comfortable-looking Taitana Lodge. Even though it was barely 10 in the morning, I
desperately needed a shower. The lodge consisted of various bungalows, and even
though I opted for the bottom of the range, it was a lovely unit with a double
bed, en suite and bar fridge. The complex further had a bar and restaurant
under large trees, a real haven. It thus didn’t take long before I was served a
plate of nashima and a Mosi.
6 May – Nyimba – Chengirani/Petaule – 65 km
I emerged early as ladies started sweeping the yard;
it’s what they do in Africa. I sat on the steps drinking my coffee, wondering
if the dust created was worth the few leaves collected. Eventually, I saddled
my unwilling old iron horse and proceeded towards the Malawian border.
I wasn’t far from the overnight stop I had in mind; and
it gave ample time to stop, chat and take a few pics. I thought it astonishing
the responsibility these young kids have. Never in a million years would a
child in western culture be saddled with the responsibility of looking after
babies or valuable assets, e.g., cattle. I meandered on, watching ladies doing
laundry in the river; others were collecting water from a communal well or
winnowing produce. All this happened as kids, in near hysterics, called, “how
are you, how are you?”
Seeing I was hungry upon arriving at my intended spot, I
ordered Chipsi Mayai, a popular street food consisting of a chip omelette. It
was precisely what the doctor ordered!
7 May – Chengirani – Kasane – 87 km
The huts in the villages seem to change as I head
further east. It should be mentioned that the United Kingdom colonised Zambia,
and the Republic of Zambia only achieved independence in 1964. Over the past
100 years, Zambian life has therefore been greatly affected by explorers,
missionaries, and industrialisation. Livingstone and other explorers from
Europe led missionaries to the central part of southern Africa. They organised
caravans and brought Christianity, firearms, and new building techniques, such as
the sun-dried bricks still used in certain provinces. I find this quite sad as
most of the methodologies were suitable for Europeans and not Zambian culture,
history, or lifestyle.
In any event, I made my way to Kasane grinding into a
stiff breeze and was accompanied by a multitude of Zambians on their squeaky cycles
carting anything from drums of homemade beer to stacks of eggs. The bicycle
taxi is further in great demand as it’s inexpensive albeit slow.
In Kasane, I stopped at Tiko Lodge, a non-profit community-based
organisation recommended by Peter Gazzard and couldn’t wait to order chips and
eggs!
8/9 May – Tiko Lodge, Kasane – Chipata – 92 km
For once, the mercury rose to 30°C, making for pleasant
riding. Not much happened, or I was in a dream world. The few times I stopped
to fill up with water brought the usual well-meaning attention. The biggest
misconception is that cycle tourers get paid to ride. Imagine that! The general
impression is that our governments pay us or that we sell our photographs. If
that were the case, I would bike until I fell off the bike! Little do people
realise one pays for every item required with hard-earned cash. I guess the
concept of cycling for pleasure has never occurred to them.
Chipata was my last stopover in Zambia, and it took a
while to find a suitable place to rest my head. It wasn’t cheap, but better
than pedalling the 6.5 kilometres back to the campsite spotted earlier.
Seeing I was comfortably ensconced in my abode, I
stayed one more day. The main reason for staying was to change money as I don’t
like doing it at the border, and the map indicated no ATMs until Lilongwe. I
further read one needed a PCR test, and some even mentioned insurance.
Fortunately, the insurance was only for vehicles, and as the hospital was in disarray,
I left without achieving anything.
10 May – Chipata, Zambia – Unknown village, Malawi – 87
km
The distance to the border was scarcely 20 kilometres,
and I crossed without any difficulty. I’m always amazed by the change of
scenery, food and culture after crossing a border. Sugarcane was sold in
abundance, and one hardly ever spotted anyone without chewing on a piece. The
potholes became more prominent and the villages and bicycles more frequent. During the day, stands sold grilled meat and
chips. Stopping to purchase a portion of fries, the entire neighbourhood came
to witness this unusual event. Kids in near hysterics called “Azungu, Azungu,
Azungu!” The word Azungu, also known as muzungu, mlungu, musungu or musongo,
means “wanderer”, originally pertaining to spirits. (Maybe that’s why the kids
are so fearful). The term currently refers to foreigners, not only white
people. It’s very similar to Farang, Barang, and Falang in Asia. It’s further uttered
with the same amount of enthusiasm.
Midway to Lilongwe, I called it quits on spotting what
is known as a Rest House. The place was rather basic, and I don’t think the
walls had seen a drop of paint in years. The bedding was equally old, and it
appeared washing bedding wasn’t a daily occurrence. Taking into consideration the
rate was only between 1.5 – 4 US$, I didn’t complain too much. I can shower
when in Lilongwe!
