Date:     Sat, 16 Dec 2006

To:         touring@phred.org

From:    “Michael Ayers” <michael@terminalia.org>

Subject: Gondwana - Zone of uncertainty, Zipping along, and Zambezi plunging in Zambia

Uli Shani Phreds,

Zambia, which made up a large fraction of the middle of my African Stage, is a country not well known to outsiders, a fact that often indicates a place that I will like.

Zambia lies in central-southern Africa and is a landlocked nation. Its only port is at the very base of Lake Tanganyika, a situation that played a role in my eventual route. Most of the country consists of a high, gently rolling plateau, with the only steep terrain throughout most of the country being a few rather deep gorge systems cut by the major rivers. The ecosystem throughout the country is a little different than what I had seen so far in Africa. Most areas are covered by a fairly thick and tall woodland, mostly consisting of mophane or miombo trees, with taller grasses below. However, for the most part, these woods are deciduous, though not based on the solar calendar but on the cycle of wet and dry seasons. It was still the dry season during my visit in late September-early October, so the countryside was mostly leafless and brown.  This and the gentle terrain made for some rather easy, if a little monotonous, riding. I also noticed a surprising lack of wildlife, both large and small, though there appeared to be plenty of available habitat.  My suspicion was that the country was denuded of most of its animals back in the days when going on safari meant coming home with as many skins or stuffed creatures as possible. Even birdlife was much less common than other places I’d recently been. I suppose that all the birds may have just migrated to greener areas, but there were also many old, faded signs around promoting DDT use to control mosquitoes, so another possibility is that Zambia had its own Silent Spring decades ago.

History had not been especially kind to the country, with the slave trade reaching in and extracting large segments of the population, missionaries blotting out what remained of the indigenous culture, and then a forced colonial federation with what was then called Rhodesia draining its natural resources. This left a society already disadvantaged when independence came, and the country remains one of southern Africa’s poorest, at least by World Bank-type standards. For a few decades following independence Zambia did little to encourage international tourism, focusing instead on the large copper mining industry located in the northern part of the country in an area that I didn’t visit. Consequently, the nation did not receive the same windfall that neighboring states like Kenya and Tanzania did, further holding back its development.

Already possessing one of the lowest population densities in Africa, recent decades have seen a steady migration of rural residents to the big cities, of which there are few. So, in addition to being free of animals, the countryside is lacking in humans as well. However, the folks that are there, and their urban counterparts, are among the most polite people I’ve met. The standard greeting is “Hello, Sir, how are you?” and if the same question is returned, the answer, in perfect diction, just as it was taught in primary school English classes, is always, “I am fine.” Virtually all but the most rural people speak English well, and those that don’t speak Bembe. Even the young kids greet passers-by politely, smiling and waving, instead of going berserk like in some other places, a somewhat refreshing change.

With all of these aspects in mind, I was not sure what the food situation would be. As it turned out, it was not too bad, though not especially memorable. Local food was pretty basic and uninspiring, with the staple nsima, served with whatever meat was handy being the most common meal. Food from shops was a bit more hit and miss, sometimes there was a good selection, and other times not. However, the distribution of the good and poor shops seemed to be almost a random scattering, with an occasional good place where it wasn’t expected and none where there seemingly should have been one. Another aspect I found rather surprising, and a little troubling, was that in most small towns, and almost all villages, the essentially omnipresent 1.5 liter bottles of water were not available, at least not yet. If there was water for sale at all, it was in smaller sized bottles, which required purchasing, and unhappily discarding, many more then one normally would. Perhaps to make up for that, a beverage that is sold throughout southeastern Africa was widely available. Called Chibuku “Shake Shake”, it is sold in a 1 liter paper carton. From the name and the package, I assumed it was something like milkshake, and I almost bought a carton one day. Fortunately, I learned just in time that it was some sort of fermented drink, and I was told that “It’s like drinking a beer and having a meal at the same time.” I have absolutely no idea what that meant, and I’m quite glad I didn’t find out.

Zambia also has a reputation on the Web and in guidebooks for having very bad roads. However, I was pleased that, for the most part, all of the roads that I used, which consisted of a fairly large fraction of the network, were in pretty good shape. Just an occasional section with too many potholes caused slight delays. One other curious thing I observed involved the cycling traffic. Like many other countries with a similar level of development and urbanization, many people in Zambia use bikes for daily transportation, which is, of course, is a great thing. However, in Zambia it is very common for riders to travel on the opposite side of the road from the rest of the traffic (Zambia is another left-side travel country.) This presumably is related to the old, worn-out, belief that it’s better for foot-traffic to walk in opposition to the rest of the traffic. To make the situation a little more confusing, and even less safe, when a motor vehicle was approaching, the riders frequently crossed quickly back over to the left side until it passed, and then returned back to the right again. The whole practice really bugged me, though fortunately I didn’t have the same sort of problem I did back in Thailand.

My route through the country actually involved two separate visits, which was not my original intention. The first of these came about when I changed my mind about where to go after the M.V. Liemba delivered me to the southern end of Lake Tanganyika. After disembarking I wanted to get to northern Malawi as easily as possible and there were three possible routes. As is often the case I probably chose the wrong one. The first, and my original plan, would have been to depart the ferry at the southernmost Tanzanian port, from where there was about 400 km of mostly gravel roads to get to Malawi, and I was not really up for that. Another option would have been to stay on board for a few hours longer at disembark at Zambia’s only port, Mplunga. From there the route to Malawi would have also been mostly gravel, but somewhat shorter. However, I ended up choosing a third option, which I was not able to research very well.  From Mplunga there is a paved highway heading south towards the capital, and I thought it would be easier and faster to go south for a while, though that was the opposite direction from my destination, then cross over to a similar highway running along the east side of the country, and head back north to the Malawi border. The problem was that since I wasn’t planning on going through that part of Zambia, I hadn’t brought a map for that region.  Back in Kigoma there was a big wall map that included northern Zambia, from which I took an image. Unfortunately, that map had an inset map of Nairobi covering the area between the two highways. The section of the map that was still visible seemed to show the two roads converging at the provincial capital of Kasame. I assumed, therefore, that to be the case. The only other map I could find was a little schematic map in someone’s guidebook, which did indeed show a connection between the two highways, but gave no information on the nature of the road. So, I had no real idea what to expect as I began.

All started fairly well, though the Liemba was a few hours late in reaching Mplunga. Once there is was an easy process to get a multiple-entry visa. However, after that there was a big slowdown at the customs station. Everyone with baggage had their belongings subjected to a very thorough search by the agents. The nice fellow from New Zealand I had met on the boat was in front of me in the line and had the misfortune of carrying a lot of toiletries and some medications. The agents scrutinized them completely and it became clear that they were looking for smuggled drugs. It seemed inconceivable to me that there is a significant drug trafficking problem along the shores of Lake Tanganyika, though I suppose the agents could have simply been bored. Perhaps the smugglers often hide their contraband in the many sacks of dried lake fish (a tiny fish which I have learned is called kapenta) brought down on the ferry. I was worried that my Arkel bags, with their numerous little pockets containing odd-looking items, would have me stuck there forever. Fortunately, since they contained mostly severely dirty laundry and greasy bike tools, the agent that looked into mine let me through almost right away.  However, by that time there was not really enough time left in the day to go very far, so I was forced to stay in Mplunga, which is a rather sparse place for a port and border town.

The next day, after a fairly long climb with a strong headwind to leave the Rift Valley, things became easier after I turned south. The following day I reached Kasame in mid-morning and, though it seemed like a reasonable enough town, I didn’t make it past the Shoprite supermarket, which had the best selection of food I’d seen in a very long time.  Consequently, I bought a lot more than I needed at the time, which turned out to be a good thing.  Shortly after finishing a filling feast, I took off again, now heading east into the zone of uncertainty for which I had no map. I estimated that it would be about 120 km to Isoka, the first town to the east which appeared on my map, and I expected to be there that evening. All was well for a while, as the road was smooth with little traffic, and so I took the time to stop and visit a San petroglyph site.  The San, who have been frequently mislabeled as “bushmen” were hunter-gatherers who roamed over all of southern Africa until being partially displaced by agricultural migrants from more northerly parts of Africa, and then virtually wiped out after the arrival of Europeans. The San are the oldest people who are genetically ancestors to every human living today, and when they roamed freely across Africa they left thousands of petroglyphs depicting both animals and human scenes. I had hoped to meet someone from that community while on the continent, but as there are so few San left, it does not appear that I will have the opportunity.

Back on the route again, I was dismayed shortly after, when the nice road I had been on turned into a sandy gravel surface. Probably just a short washed-out section, I told myself. But no, I was not on the eastern highway as I had thought, but on a minor road which became more and more minor with each passing kilometer. Now too late to go back and take another route I had no choice but to go ahead. I still expected the distance to be 120 km, but while the surface was not always that bad, travel was still quite slow, and I was not near the end by the time night came.  The following day the road didn’t get any better, and included a rowboat river ferry where I was charged an exorbitant fee that was clearly the mzungu’s price. The worst part was that there was virtually no food available along the way, and very few drinks or water bottles as well.  Fortunately, I still had all the extra food I had bought in Kasame, which was just enough to tide me over.  For it was very late in the day when I finally reached the highway, just south of Isoka. The route had actually been almost 200 km instead of 120, and I was now a full day behind where I wanted to be. However, along the way I did manage to occasionally remind myself that I was traveling through a quite picturesque landscape along a route with no motorized traffic at all, during a couple of beautiful sunny days, and that made up somewhat for the irritation I felt for getting myself in that situation unnecessarily. The final section to the Malawi border involved a now-shorter distance on the smooth eastern highway, and then another poor dirt road that was once again longer than I had expected.

The second visit to Zambia came 12 days later and was my original route, a fairly long section straight across the southern edge of the country from east to west. This route turned out to be quite a bit easier than the first. I entered from Malawi at the town of Chipata, and soon was up on the rolling plateau once again. The gentle terrain, with only one or two deep river gorges to negotiate, and consistent tailwinds made for some easy riding. Additionally, with a fairly monotonous woodlands landscape, and few towns of interest along the way, I allowed myself to put down some rather long days. Because of that I arrived in Lusaka, the capital of Zambia a half day earlier than I had expected.  Lusaka seemed to me to be a fairly tame city, at least by exploding “third-world” capital-city standards. The approach from the east was easy as the surrounding area is rural right up to the city limits. Once there, the road became a wide highway, but traffic was rather light. In that part of town I noticed a few strip malls, a dubious construction that I hadn’t seen since Australia. It was not long before I reached the city center and found a decent place to stay, though I decided to only spend a half day in town instead of a full day as I had planned, since I thought the extra day would be better appreciated later in Livingstone. That was fine, as while the city was fairly relaxed and had a range of decent food sources available, there was not much reason to stay there very long.

The last section in the country was a few days ride down to Livingstone, the site of the first major “destination” I had reached in several weeks.  The terrain and winds continued to be favorable and I picked up additional time once again, though the first day was a little tricky. That was because it was the day of Zambia’s presidential election and most businesses, notably most restaurants and stores, were closed that day, making finding something to eat a bit of a chore. However, it was a real treat to see the extremely long lines of voters outside all of the polling places. Though I can’t say for sure whether that was due to a high turnout or extremely slow polling procedures. There were five candidates running, and I had hoped to find a newspaper that listed their platforms so I could decide whom I wanted to win, but I never saw that information. Perhaps that was for the best, given my poor record in choosing presidents, where I have only selected one winning candidate in my voting lifetime (and I now wish that I had gotten that one wrong too!) In the end, the incumbent, Levy Mananawasa was re-elected, which seemed to upset some of the runner-up’s supporters so much that they trashed parts of Lusaka several days later when the official results were announced.

With the continued easy travel I again arrived at my next stop, Livingstone, ahead of schedule and was now able to spend two and a half days there instead of one. That was worthwhile as Livingstone is the site of one of Africa’s most famous sights, Victoria Falls. Unfortunately, another bout of some bad food had caught up with me just as I arrived, and I spent the first half day sleeping that off. Then next day, still a little sluggish, I just hung around town, doing some simple errands and visiting the small museum. The visit to the Falls, located about 10 km from town, would be on the third day. Arriving at the Falls fairly early I was a bit dismayed to not see any water falling, or at least not much. The occasionally powerful Zambezi River, which plunges over the cataract, also forms the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe. Over the millennia it has cut a series of narrow, vertical gorges perpendicular to its course into the 300-meter high escarpment over which it flows. From the Zambia side one can walk out along both edges of the main gorge during the dry season, as the river is lower then and there is no flow over the north end of the falls at all. Walking out onto the now-dry riverside of the gorge is quite an experience, and not one for those suffering from vertigo, as you can walk right up to the edge of the cliff, where torrents of water gush over during the wet season, and look straight down into the deep gorge below.

In order to see the Falls during the dry season, one must cross over into Zimbabwe (or take an aircraft tour). Since I had come a long way to see the Falls, and not wishing to be disappointed, I was forced to leave Zambia unexpectedly. The real pain is that there are separate national park fees on both sides AND visitors are required to get a Zimbabwean visa even if one only plans to venture in as far as the 200 meters needed to see the Falls and stay for only an hour or so. That was quite annoying, not to mention costly. Nevertheless, once there, the Falls are a good as advertised, with the high afternoon Sun producing beautiful rainbows in the mist formed by the tumulting river. In fact, a dry season visit is advantageous in one way, namely that the same mist can be so thick in the wet season that the Falls are nearly completely obscured. Well, at least there’s that. It was, however, an overall impressive display, despite the logistical issues.

That visit brought to a close my tour through Zambia. All that was left was a half day’s ride up the Zambezi to where a ferry takes travelers into my next destination, Botswana. All in all, Zambia was a fairly easy and generally enjoyable part of my African Stage.

Natotela,

Mike

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The Tour of Gondwana

May 02005 - Oct 02007

http://www.terminalia.org/tour