Tanzania at its Finest

Trying to organize a safari at the last moment while on the move in a country with substandard communications proved to be a trying and stressful task. Scams are common and the price range of the legit safaris is all over the place. We eventually settled on a company called Nature Beauties and even after visiting them at their office we still only had about 90% confidence that it was the real deal. Not until we and our bags were packed securely in the Land Cruiser did we breath a sigh of relief.

In the end, we had a 4-day/3-night camping safari that covered Lake Manyara, Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater. Having returned today, I can say that all our worst nightmares about a safari scam never came to fruition and, rather, Arianna and I are both quite thrilled with the whole experience. And what is more, we got a hell of a deal. To start, we lucked out with good company. We were paired with a British couple who both just finished med school, Sam and Maya. The four of us all received excellent hospitality from our guide and driver, Salehe and our cook Prosper. They drove, set up and broke camp, stuffed our bellies, spotted wildlife and were all around just good safari companions.

The organization of the route was setup quite well such that each day seemed to produce better wildlife and scenery. We kicked off the trip with an initial drive around peaceful Lake Manyara with the fourth day culminating in the mind-blowing beauty of Ngorongoro Crater. We spent the two sandwiched days in the incredibly expansive Serengeti plain. As the plain is wide open and runs to the horizon, I found myself constantly fooled into thinking I would be able to see most of the animals occupying that space, making the drive a little boring. Rather, every five minutes a new animal pops up, everything from zebra to hyenas to even full grown elephants. We were also in for a treat as the Wildebeast migration north is currently underway. Stopping amidst the migration we would hear nothing but the rumble of 100,000s of Wildebeast running around the vehicle.

We were particularly lucky because we managed to see a large variety of animals. They include in no particular order: Elephant, zebra, hyena, jackal, lion, lion with cubs, full grown male lion, cheetah, leopard, ostrich, giraffe, secretary bird, wart hog, black rhino, waterbuck, bushbuck, grant's gazelle, thompson's gazelle, dik-dik, eland, cape buffalo, hartebeast, wildebeast, hippo, monitor lizard, baboon, blue-ball monkey (yes, it is named so exactly for the reason you think) and mongoose. These are the ones I can remember.The overall highlight for me was descending into the crater on the last day for about a 7 hour game drive. The crater is incredibly deceiving. At 20 km across, my first impression would be that if there was anything to see we could have seen it from the top leaving little room for surprise. Rather, much like the Serengeti animals seem to material out of te ether. The crater has an incredibly high concentration of flora and fauna for its relatively small area. The black rhino can be seen cutting through the tall grass with its horn resembling that of a shark;s dorsal fin cutting the water. The north side of the crater was flush with activity with a large lion pride of about a dozen cruising through herds of zebra and wildebeast. We were convinced that we were going to observe 'a kill' but unfortunately never saw the cats give chase. The wildebeast, on high alert, made quite a show. They would follow, and at times chase, the big cats on the prow, but once the cat turned and faced them they quickly turned tail. As soon as we were done watching this comedic act, we then spotted two cheetahs making the rounds. Once again, no kill, but you could feel the tension.

After breaking for lunch, we swung by the flamingos in the lake set against the brilliant green crater wall. The Landi then climbed out the crater as we said our goodbyes. Of course, Ngorongoro was not ready to say goodbye to us. Returning to our camp we found a large elephant siphoning off water from the campground water storage tank. We arrived in time to watch a cook weighing no more than a buck 30 run off the beast with clanging pots - I wish I got a video of that one.

We are now back in Arusha and did a little hunting of our own today - hunting around for a rental car that is. Tanzania does not offer many options in this department unless if you are renting and returning to Dar es Salaam or you want to drop a lot of cash on your own safari vehicle. There is a further catch, outside of Dar, all companies require you take the driver they provide; i.e., no self-drive. - Where is the fun in that?! So, we have spent much of the day working with people who are willing to consider giving us their own car to rent. It is all a bit shady, but hopefully in my next post I will have some good stories to tell - that were collected from our own car.

Apparently, I am 'The White Devil'

We stayed in Iringa for two nights. Other than the quibble with a guest house staff member who returned our laundry wet one hour before we had to catch a bus, the whole stay was quite enjoyable. We hit up the
markets, my personal favorite, where we could walk among the mounds of sculpted grains, dried fish, spices and other food stuffs. As I mentioned in the last post, relative to Zambia, local and foreign foods abound in Tanzania and we do not hesitate throwing down the shillings. On the favorite food list: grilled meat (nyama) served streetside over charcoal, indian dives that prove to be anything but, samosas-samosas-samosas, fries congealed together with egg (chipsi mayai) and kachaimbala (veggie medley with lemon juice). Also a nice find in the Iringa market area - craft goods. It of course is a bit touristy, but it is nice to dig through these wares and try to find something that strikes you. Much of it is repeated from stall to stall and town to town, but there are always those few diamonds in the rough. Further, it is also nice to see some effort thrown in the general arts direction - another stark contrast to Zambia.

We are making a delibrate crawl to the Serengeti as to make sure we can get a chance to see the 'real-Tanzania.' It seems many visitors fly into the internationally recognized highlights (Mt. Kiliminjaro, Serengeti, Zanzibar, a Masaai photo-op and Ngorongoro Crater) and then promptly leave. These, of course, are sites not to be missed and we are doing our best to also cover them, however, tourist-frequented areas tend to alter the character of a people and place. I guess you can't blame them, everyobody has to make a living, but we would like to see a bit of Tanzania not quite as affected by the lure of the dollar, pound, or euro. Our "crawl" became a bit extended, however, when we realized our Iringa-Dodoma bus was consuming nearly a full day and we were no closer to Dodoma. The only route to Dodoma proceeds via Morogoro - who knew. Thus, our sore asses easily convinced us that it might be a nice place to visit.

Morogoro is similar in size and friendliness as Iringa but has a totally different feel. That, combined with a nice, cheap hotel that served free omelettes, twisted our arms into two nights. We attempted to climb to the top of Lupanga Mountain in the nearby Uluguru mountains. A stern and suspicious group of park officers in town combined with a steep 'entrance fee' deterred us from taking the legal way up and we tried to blaze our own trail. I don't think we are the first foreigns to find the park quite so uninviting - scanning the registry, only 6 foreigners had paid the fee in the last 1.5 years. Walking out of town for a few miles into the villages at the foot of the mountains we were easily distracted by the daily life of the Morogoro 'suburbs' and thus not able to find a trail before the day grew too late. No worries, it made for a great day of walking - good pictures, I upgraded my crappy sunglasses for another pair of crappy sunglasses with some kid for about $1 and we found some really great filter coffee on the walk back to Morogoro.

Morogoro ticked off another first on the list for me - a visit to a Tanzanian hospital. For four days I have been getting strange headaches and neck-muscle soreness - not my normal fair, ever. The average malarial medicine only has a 95% efficacy rate. Since I have had well over 20 mosquito bites I thought my number might be up, so we stumbled around in the dark looking for the hospital. The whole thing was quite interesting. At first glance of the hospital, your initial reaction is "nope, no worries, I feel completely fine. ok, see you later." However, despite the dilapidated hospital and little spoken english, the whole thing turned out to be surprisingly efficient. After about 45 minutes and $1.70 I found out I did not have the malarial parasite (notice the "no parasites seen" on my 'medical chart below). Of course, I must temper my praise of the hospital, for I would be a bit more worried if I had to go there for a life-threatening injury. As for the headaches, they subsided two days ago. It turns out the side effects of mefloquine (lariam) can also explain my symptoms, in addition to the vivid, wacked-out dreams I have been having over the last 6 weeks.

Next stop was Dodoma, the capital, or should I say armpit of Tanzania. Apparently, the government made Dodoma the capital a few decades ago but neglected to realize most of the officials did not want to live there and that it had an inadequate water supply. Although there are a fair number of inhabitants, the city definitely has a abandoned and forgotten feel. Many of the occupied houses/huts/shacks are marked with a large spray-painted red "X" and the letters "UA." We were not able to figure out what this means. We guessed that they were places to be demolished, but that, along with the planned construction of the rest of the capitol, were also forgotten. As for our accomodations, atleast the sign by the front door assured us that it was a morally upstanding place. We left early the next morning. Babati was a better payoff the next day, not to mention a welcome stop after a rough 7 hr bus ride. Although a bit of a rundown town, it did not lack in character or friendliness. That night we walked out of town down the long dusty road with beers in hand searching for Babati Lake. In the dark, a passerby clearly identified two out-of-place white people and directed us to royal beach. After a careful walk led by a little 6 yr old kid who decided we needed a guide in order to skirt the cranky hippos, we found Royal Beach Hotel on a pennisula jutting out into the lake. There was no beach to be found but we had some good star watching. A streetside bar serving up fried chipsi mayai made for a perfect ending to the evening on the walk back.
The bus to Arusha was a little interesting. Driving across the Maasai Steppe one can see Maasai herdsmen in their distinctive colorful blankets with their cattle spreading off into the distance. A funny incident on the bus ride itself also deserves a note as another 'first.' We were sitting in the very from seats at the entrance to the
door making us the first thing a boarding passenger would see. At one stop, a local tribal woman got on with her baby and her eyes immeditaley met mine. At which point, her face filled with fear, she exclaimed something in Swahili and then nearly pushed over one of the bus hands to get off the bus. The bus attendants then just pointed at us and laughed along with the front half of the bus as we pulled away. In broken english, one of the guys explained to me that she was terrified of white people and decided walking would be better than riding with the 'White Devil'. We felt bad, but couldn't help but laugh.

From Babati, it was on to Arusha, the tout-capitol of the world. If you are ever feeling lonely, just walk out into the streets of Arusha and whisper 'safari.' I promise, within seconds you will have all the 'friends' in the world. Fortunately, we were able to deflect most of these guys and settle up on a safari that we had been scouting for the last several days (now having a cell phone has aided this maddening process). So far, the safari package we got seems all on the up and up and priced well ta' boot - we'll see...

Zambia and Tanzania: Neighbors by Border Alone

Admittedly, posting has been a little more sparse than I had hoped. Hopefully, that will be changing as Tanzania is nearly a whole other world in almost every respect relative to Zambia. But first, the long, bumpy road out of Zambia.

Moving northeast through Zambia we have found some better food than the standard Zambian Nshima dish. We think nshima is made from maize and cassava and bears a striking resemblance to grits, but drier and smoother. Nshima dishes are pretty standard, served with a side of some (hopefully identifiable) meat or vegetable (almost always something akin to collards). The nshima is intended to be rolled into balls and used to scoop the side. After our first experience scooping it up with a bus ticket (me) and an Obama button (Arianna) we started packing utensils. We have happily supplemented many of our nshima meals with omelets which seem to be standard fair in guesthouses. Now in the north we are starting to see more baked goods and samosas. We pack the Pajero every chance we get.
After fueling in Mpika we swung by the Shiwa House before sunset. We headed here due to a recommendation from a guide in South Luangwa who promised nothing less than a generally strange experience. The Shiwa House was built in 1907 by a former British colonial governor and stands (in my opinion) as the only 'in-your-face colonial' leftover in Zambia. It is now a somewhat upscale lodge owned by the grandson, Charlie. One of the house attendants gave us a tour of the grounds for a few bucks and kindly offered a free peek at two of the interior rooms. On the back drop of the rest of Zambia, I can only describe the place as a little creepy, a little cool and very eccentric. Furthermore, it was also an interesting visit because outside tiny villages and beautiful countryside there exists very little establishments, structures or rather just any semblance of modern man in Zambia. Don't get me wrong, I love the backwoods feel, but from time to time an interspersed reminder of what millennia I live in is kind of nice.

Under a setting sun we headed off to Kapisha Hot Springs, about 20 km away, owned and operated by the other grandson, Mark. Here there was a deserted, yet amazing hot spring that, with beers in hand, we spent hours soaking in. We were the only guests and camped down by the river. Unfortunately we committed to two nights by requesting a special dinner to be cooked for us the second night. It's a bit of a long and tedious story, but essentially, after spending a little time with Mark and his wife, Mel, we realized that the nuttiness that inspired the Shiwa House runs in the family. Mark had a few screws loose and was paranoid as hell. And it would be an understatement to describe Mel as just plane evil. It's unfortunate such a beautiful relaxing place is run by psychopathic nut-jobs. If you are ever in the area, I suggest you just visit the hot springs on a day trip only.Next stop was Kasama, a bit of a bustling town occupied mostly by the Bembo people. There was actually a grocery store and a gas station - big time! Outside the town we took in a few waterfalls and visited the local cave paintings. Our guide Rufus, gave the best tour we have received from any Zambian since Yotam at South Luangwa NP. What made it good? Besides his ability to deviate from a memorized script he actually was able to formulate his own disagreements with what a former achealogists had interpreted from the paintings. I do not mean to sound condescending about many of the other Zambians we have met. They are a wonderfully peaceful and friendly people on the whole, but Arianna and I are constantly amazed and their near-zero ability to enterprise or think outside the box. I do not think either that I have a limited perception despite my short visit. Zambia is a resource-rich nation. There is a significant amount of arable land and nearly 40% of all of Africa's hydroelectric potential, yet the country is almost entirely undeveloped and in the dark. They could not only feed their northern neighbors but power their bordering neighbors. Yet from the top down there seem to be very few entreprenurial examples or efforts to carve out a new economic niche. I have found fairly solid affirmation for this perspective from the few foreign (and white) enterprising individuals we have met throughout Zambia who have found most of their efforts to awaken the local populace to their potential as mostly futile. Hence, we tipped Rufus well.

We spent our last few days with the Pajero exploring the towns of Mbala and Mpulungo with plans to catch the weekly ferry to Tanzania. The ferry takes a slow 3 days cruising the 500+ km up Lake Tanginyika - with food stores and a box of wine in hand, we were stoked. Of course our plans were dashed when we got to the port and found out the only ferry out of Zambia had been diverted to move Congolese refugees back 'home'. I guess we have little room to get upset but it made for a following stressful 24 hours to figure out alternative plans. We looked into bus options across the border but there was little on the otherside in way of transport. We were approached by a guy trying to rent us a car - too sketchy. Conveniently, we ran into Frank, a guy we met the night before while hanging out at 'Harry's Bar.' Incidentally, Frank was also a local cop who spent much of his time and cell phone minutes trying to arrange for a car rental that we could take across the border and investigating the potential legality issues associated with us taking said such car across the border. However, with 15 minutes before the 'point of no return' for me to notify Lakinando (owner of the Pajero) of the drop off point, we changed all our plans and drove to the border town of Nkonde, 200 km away.

The following morning the car exchange with the return-driver at the border was fairly seamless, relative to what I had anticipated. Two nights prior, I had had a conversation with what I assume to be a drunk Lakinando who was trying to get another 500,000 kwacha out of us or call the cops. Unbeknownest to him, we shared drinks with Frank the same night! The border crossing with packs in hand was not too bad either, and 1 hour later we were in Tanzania - a whole different world! The people are not quite as friendly as Zambians, things are pretty messy and disheveled, buses abound, food places and stores are everywhere and there is tons of activity all around. We then undertook about 7 hours of rough bus rides to get dropped off in the dark in the middle of nowhere. With no lights in sight and fingers crossed, we walked with our packs and box of wine up a dirt road to find the nice, quaint little Kisulanza Farm. The farm offered wonderful campsites. Additionally, the owner Mark said we were free to explore the tobacco, corn and coffee fields the following day. We spent a nice hour strolling through the farm only after our $1.50 pot of french press containing the coffee grown on the farm - good stuff!
The next day we flagged down a bus on the main road that was heading to Iringa. We are currently using Iringa as a home base to make safari plans for the Serengeti. We have not solidified anything yet but have a few good leads. Regardless, it looks like this one is going on the credit card... Iringa, however, has been a fantastic town to visit. It is very lively and pretty friendly. We have found some great food. There is significant Indian cuisine influence and I happly destroyed some chicken curry after Arianna and I split some masala fries over various Tanzanian brews. Today, we explored the local food market where we were welcome with open arms into a back alley ad lib kitchen were we sampled the local Ugali and vegetables. Ugali turned out to be quite similar to the bland Zambian Nshima, but the veggies and atmosphere more than added enough spice. We were also excited to find some local crafts for sale. The highlight was Neema Craft Shop run by handicapped members of the Anglican Church. The nice, pleasant shop was further accented by an upstairs shop selling cappuccino.
Tomorrow we head to Dodoma with hopes to nail down a good safari deal. Also, I must apologize as I do not have many pictures from Kapisha Hot Springs to Iringa. With the stress of the border crossing issues we didn't get many Mpulungo or Mbala pics and then I lost my camera somewhere on a bus in Tanzania. I was able to negotiate a good price on a new camera in Iringa, so I should be back on track now.

Laka Laka Laka!

The last week in Zambia has been incredible and Arianna and I have been struggling with the concept of having to nicely package it up into a nice summary. In addition, internet access is nearly nonexistent. Of course that is a lesser concern in relation to the poor accessibility of gas, bottled water and electricity. It therefore pains me to say that this post, along with the accompanying media, will have to be brief.

We spent two days in Lusaka attempting to acquire a vehicle. After a couple hours of wrangling with Lakinando, the 'mobile car hire guy', in a hotel lobby (not ours...) we managed to talk him down $1000 on a Pajero Jr. which we could dump at the Tanzanian border provided we left it with enough fuel for the drive back. I don't think he realized it was over 1000 km away - not my problem. The following delivery-day it was becoming apparent he might be a no-show and that we got jipped out of our deposit. As I was jumping in a cab to go track him down, he showed up and then we hit the road.

With the car stocked and extra large jerry-can full of gas we headed to Serenje. The drive was rough despite the fact that we were on one of the only 3 major highways in Zambia. Some of the potholes were over two feet deep and larger than a car which makes for an exhilirating rally course at 80 mph in the dark. The excitement was only enhanced by over-turned tractor trailers on the side of the road. When an accident occurs, the driver cuts down a bunch of trees and drags them into the road, blocking much of the road in order to serve as a warning. Not surprisingly, these never get removed. Additionally, some enterprising individuals attempt to fill in the potholes with dirt from the side of the road and then jump out in front of you to stop you for payment for their services. I have to give them credit, it's creative. We spent much of the following morning exploring the small, friendly town of Serenje. We walked the main street and took pictures. Having Arianna here has been great as more people are responsive to her requests for pictures than mine. Some get a bit over zealous from time to time, but I will let her tell those stories... We toured the local market and checked out the plank-cutting 'shop' which uses the old method of laying the trees over a large pit while two men saw it, one holding the top of the saw and one in the hole. The signs of Serenje (and most of Zambia for that matter) are quite entertaining. My favorite - "In Jesus Name General Dealers". And then there is those of a more disconcerting nature - "...Bedroom Doctor... Two powerful Hebs, to cure HIV/AIDS..."
Over the last few days we have explored a few waterfalls and stone and iron age cave paintings. In search of these places we would often have to drive down 10 - 15 miles of 4x4 and dirt track only to find them deserted - initially. Then some guy would come hauling down the road on a bike with a notebook. He would take our 'admission fee' and give us a very big-hearted attempt to cobble together a tour. Signing the guest book would often reveal we were the first visitors in a week or so. The paintings, although few in number and in poor condition, didn't tickle any sort of archealogical bone for me, but nonetheless, they were interesting. Another highlight: along the way to Kundalia falls we couldn't resist stopping at a small hut along the side of the road selling beer. It was a local brew of maize and soy bean. Although it was quite entertaining, we were glad 24 hours later to find the thick, gunky brew did not make us sick. It was probably the first beer in a long time that I could not finish. And I am completely o.k. with that...

Mutinondo Wilderness was a hell of treat after 17 miles of 4x4 track in the dark. The large protected area run by a british couple was an amazing hideaway in the wilderness area just outside the North and South Luangwa Parks. The layout was such that from a distance you could not make out any of the huts or man-made structures hidden among the trees. We spent two fantastic days camping, canoeing, swimming and hiking here. Mutinondo Wilderness camp has an incredibly interesting story that is documented in their yearly newsletter. For nearly 15 years Mike and Lari have had a nonstop uphill battle setting up and running the camp. They put an incredible emphasis on working with the local tribes to create a sustainable business that interacts with and aids the community. Most of their projects ranging from crafts stores to large scale agri-businesses intended entirely for the community have collapsed due to corruption, thievery or just general ineptness. But still they plod on dealing with dishonest staff, armed gangs and illegal poaching. When I asked Mike how he assessed all these troubles in terms of their future, he nonchalantly said, "you can not expect to live in such a rewarding place without a few challenges." Of course how could you not have an optimistic view of life when this is the view from the pit toilet hut:

From Mutinando, we naively headed north off the main road to the Bangweulu Wetlands. Along the way we drove through hundreds of tiny villages in the middle of nowhere. I guess people would hear our car and come running out of the bushes (literally) waving and greeting us. It got all very tiring after awhile as it was nonstop waving on our part. The shouts in our direction were not all just greetings, but rather requests (if not demands) to give them money or sweeties. Our personal favorite was children yelling what sounded like "Laka, Laka, Laka!" We later found out they were saying "Lager, Lager, Lager" in an effort to ask us for any empty beer bottles we might have had so they can exchange them for deposit. Stopping amongst the children was equally hazardous as driving among them. After one stop they piled on the back of the Pajero, eventually falling off after a couple hundred meters. I'm happy to report there were no injuries.
After nearly 5.5 hours and 85 grueling miles of some serious 4x4 track, we finally arrived at the wetlands. We were awestruck to see an entire plain filled with Black Lechwes open up before us beneath a setting sun. We drove about 3 miles through the wetlands as the track dissappeared. The water level slowly started to rise. We were within about 300 meters of what appeared to be the campground when the water got very deep. A guy from the camp ran out saying that it should be passable. I made a run for it in 4Lo. The Pajero made a valiant effort until I sunk it halfway up the driver side door in the marsh and promptly cut the engine. A half dozen wildlife game authority guys waded out into the marsh to offer to push. After verifying the airbox wasn't submerged I made another run for the last 150 feet and much to my surprise the damn thing slogged right through. On dry land I gave the Pajero the once over and everything checked out fine (Thanks Dad!). Go Pajero!
It turned out we were another 2 km from the camp which could only be reached by boat. We had rather landed at a Wildlife Game Authority Station which protects the wetlands from poachers. It was then dark and too late for the boat, so they let us setup camp and then promptly retired to their homes. We spent several hours listening to the incredible wetland sounds under a full moon. It was a surreal experience in which words do not come close to describing, so I recorded it. The next morning we caught sunrise and then one of the officers offered to take us on a walking tour of the wetland. We hiked up our pants and trodded out with him for two hours. Black Lechwe could be seen dissappearing into the horizon in all directions. Additionally, we walked across a zebra herd, hundreds of spoonbills, large cranes, vultures pulling apart a Lechwe carcas, elephant prints and 3-4 foot high ant hills. Feeling quite content with our wetland experience we headed back. The officers were able to point me in a track out that was a not quite so deep and the Pajero plowed through like a champ.
We are now in Mpika. It has been a nice stop over not only because we got great accomodations and food for dirt cheap prices, but it is also the first gas station since Serenje! The jerry can is a life saver. We are now going to meander our way north. We are shooting for Tanzania by Thursday.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MOM!

Zambia - The Other Mozambique

The short flight from Jo'burg to Lusaka could leave one to believe that such a drastic change in environment, culture and cityscape would not be expected. On the contrary, Arianna and I settled into the shabby hostel in Lusaka with the swarms of mosquitos late Monday night after a long, dark ride from the rundown 'Lusaka International Airport.' After double-checking that I was on the proper anti-Maleria med regiment, we set out to explore Lusaka for a day and begun the task of cobbling together a Zambia route.

Post Jo'burg safety-woes, we were initially a little concerned about aimlessly trodding around town looking like, well, aimless tourists. However, we quickly found the environment to be not only friendly, but inviting with people warmly smiling and greeting us as we walked about. Starting slow, we hit the Lusaka Museum to get a feeling for Lusaka history . Likley not only lacking a curator but a general understanding of the importance of curatorship, the museum was quite a disshelved mess comprised of odd-ball 'collections' and newspaper clippings strewn about in a haphazard fashion. I could safely put this museum up on the 'Top 5 Worst' list. It of course was not with out its few entertaining quarks such as the (I can only assume) real fingertip of a Mr. Abel Nchima from 1961 and a tiny anthropological exhibit of human evolution that culminated in a human skull "discovered in Kabwe in 1995 during the digging of a rubbish pit." I am sure preservationist concerns are low on Zambian priority list, so we respectfully paid our admission fee and left the bullet-ridden museum building.The real highlight was cruising the markets, particularly the City Town Market. Packed with a wide variety of wares for sale, dried fish seemed to be the dominant commodity. Much like China, I (we) got the 'what the hell are you doing here looks', which I have to admit, I strangely miss. The market area began as organized and covered stalls and then sprawled out to narrow and dusty shanty streets. What I found most surprising is the number of people that approached us to take their pictures. It has predominantly been my experience that either people want you to be in their pictures taken from their camera or will ask you to take their picture with your camera and then demand money. But in Lusaka we were approached several times by people asking us to take their picture while striking an exhuberant pose and then not even hanging around long enough to ask for payment. Most thrilling encounter was probably our experience to purchase bus tickets at the station for the next day. The 'middle-men' who helped direct us to the "best bus line" reached a near ecstatic state when we start handing out Arianna's get-me-out-of-jail-free-Obama-buttons. It was real, intense and a site to behold. My only lament is that we did not get any pictures. The point being, our first day in Lusaka was all an early indicator of the unexpected and incredible friendliness of the Zambian people that, in hindsight, made us feel a little bit silly about our gaurded defenses.
The next morning we bused it down the Great East Road with Luangwa National Park, outside Mfuwe, in our sights. The seven hour ride dotted with only a handful of small towns made it apparent that Zambia is pretty sparsely populated. Unable to procur transport to Luangwe NP we holed up in Chipata for the night. Before sunset, we were able to walk the town and were left wondering why everybody so quickly expediates their trip to the Mfuwe via plane, thus completely by-passing friendly and lively Chipata. Testing the waters a little, we ventured out down the crowded and unlit alleys to find a good bar. In contrast to the friendly air of daylight, the night does take on a little bit different of an attitude. We haven't quite put out fingers on it yet as our perceptions are just that at this point, perceptions. So, while we did not feel threatened strolling into the 'locals only bar' we also did not exactly feel welcome. It was something akin to entering your nearby biker bar in your Sunday best. We logged the experience, drank our beers and headed back to the hotel.The next day also marked another list-topper experience for me. If the bumpy ride to Mfuwe in the Toyota minibus (the size of a VW bus) with the other 21 people were any longer than 3 hours, it would be the worst bus ride I have ever had. Nonetheless it safely secured a spot in the top 5. I tried my damnedest to get pics of the scenery hurtling by but most of the near 100 pics I took were all blurred. You can find a few of the successful ones in the 'Chipata Pic' section. It was all worth it though. Feeling somewhat like Ewokes after pitching our tent on a platform in a tree at our campsite, we scheduled our safari rides. With no fences and our campsite immediately adjacent to the park, we were a little surprised when we found we had to be escorted nearly everywhere in the camp, especially at night when the hippos come out. There was always a slight caution in the air as the lions made a pool-side visit the previous day and crocodiles are well and alive here. Sure enough, the elevated tent site was quite welcome as it kept us above the crunching hippos just below, eating grass all night. Of course, the platform does not do a whole lot of good to protect you from the monkey poo-bombings.
Laungwa NP is the largest, and supposedly the best, in Zambia. I can not compare it to other safari parks, but I thought it totally rocked. We did a night drive and morning drive around the park in the Land Rovers. Each trip was about 4 hours and punctuated by coffee and tea time. Our guide and driver, Yotam, was a local who knew the Park and its flora and fauna like the back of his hand. In addition to the obvious game sighting, he took the time to point out tracks and other animal marking, stop to smell various flowers and could answer any question we threw at him. The guides are required to take classes and pass exams before they can be certified. It is an admired job in the area and it is thus no surprise we met several aspiring guides in Mfuwe.
In terms of wildlife, I can't complain. There are estimated to be nearly 20,000 hippos just in the section of the Luangwa river passing through the park. We spotted numerous colorful birds, impalas, pukus and bushbacks. Waterbucks, cape buffalo, zebras, hippos and elephants repeatedly crossed our path. The tops was pulling right up next side to a lion pride. Yotam could not only tell us the given name of the pride but the age and relationships of all eight members, why the male patriarch was not there and how recently they had made a kill. Apparently, Luangwa is 'the best place to spot a leopard in Africa'. Despite the fact that we had no such luck, all in all, the safaris were well worth it. For me, the park had a very different feel than Addo Elephant Park. Most of the animals were skittish around the Landi and we had to work a little to do some spotting. It left me with a sensation that I was observing an environment more similar to the natural, untouched habitat of the wildlife. If it works out, we are hoping to hit North Luangwa Park in the next week or so.
After our last drive, we relaxed away the rest of an afternoon listening to hippo calls and lounging by the river. A stark contrast to the transit back to Lusaka in which we had to wake at 4 am to catch the only van back to Mfuwe before connecting to Lusaka. The ride was interesting, to say the least, and did manage to secure the number one spot in my book as the most ridiculous bus ride I have ever taken. Ten miles down the rode we stopped in the dark to pick up someone while the bus driver commenced to arguing with the passengers about who was going to have to sit on whose lap to accommodate the rider. We then picked up two more passengers. One guy had to ride much of the way with either his legs or butt out the window while somewhat suspended over top of me. Finally, the driver gave in to the passengers complaints and allowed the last passenger to sit half straddled on his lap (the driver's) while he drove. Mind you, it's a manual. I will let you conjure up your own imagery. We eventually ran out of gas 5 km out of town, nearly consistent with the sticker across the windshield that read 'get rich o die tryin.' Fifteen hours later we made it to Lusaka and are now in the process of planning our next steps. We hope to be in Tanzania within the next 10 days.