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On my last full day in Livingstone, I wanted to do one last activity that had gotten fantastic reviews from fellow guests at Jollyboys.

I took the shuttle to the Falls and then made my way to the Upriver Trail. I ran into a man who was very friendly, asking if I was interested in visiting Angel’s Pool. Ironically, that’s why I had come to the Falls for the day. I replied “yes” and he told me to ask for his brother, Felix, at the end of the trail.

I walked to the end of the path and called out to an island in the middle of the Zambezi River. “Felix”, I yelled. “Felix”, I called again. A man came out of the island bushes and walked across the river to meet me. He introduced himself as Felix and we negotiated a price to visit Angel’s Pool. Once we agreed to an amount, I told him I would pay him extra if he brought me back alive. Good incentive, eh?

We proceeded to work our way across the Zambezi, walking sidestep across a very low concrete curb that had been built under the water by the Zambia power company. The water was a little less than shin deep and was not running too fast, though I could feel a little tug every once in a while. We were about 80 yards upriver from the Falls.

We crossed the 50 yards to the island from a where Felix had originally emerged. A group of men were lazily napping away the hot day under the shoreline trees, hoping for another hire to go to Angel’s Pool.

Over the next 45 minutes, we worked our way across the river, alternately hiking over low, shrubby islands and picking our way through water that varied in depth from ankle high to over my head. The Zambezi is 1.2 miles wide as it deposits its contents over the Victoria Falls. We hiked approximately two-thirds of the way across to get to Angel’s Pool.

At one point, Felix told me to wait and then swam downstream about 25 yards. He then motioned for me to follow. While I just thought he was navigating part of the route, he told me later he was judging how good a swimmer I was so he would know for which activities I was qualified in the pool.

We also stopped right at the falls’ edge so we could take a picture. While my feet were in the water, there was hardly any current, so the risk of being swept over the edge was minimal.

We also stopped at another rock formation on the edge so Felix could get more shots of me experiencing a unique view of the falls.

We finally reached Angel’s Pool and it was an amazing natural pool that had formed on the edge of Victoria Falls. The pool itself was about 15 feet below the upper part of the Zambezi, and water came cascading down into the pool that has been cut into the rock edge of the falls by years of rushing water. About 20 feet in diameter, the pool then emptied over the opposite edge, yet another beautiful fall in the vast series of falls that comprise Victoria Falls.

Felix asked if I wanted to do a high-level jump into the pool from a ledge near the top of the upriver fall. Of course I wanted to jump. He showed me the rock perch from which to launch, stepped back with my camera, and took my picture as I jumped the 15 feet into the pool.

Once in the pool, it was easy to swim over to the edge where Felix was standing. He put my camera down and then motioned me to follow him. We swam to a point under the falls and then shot out from under them and away from the wall. We swam over to the far corner of the pool, where he told me to climb over the submerged rocks and go all the way into the corner.

Following his instructions, I discovered a very deep pocket right at the edge of the falls. Getting into it, I was submerged up to my shoulders. The pocket was no more than two to three feet in diameter, but allowed me to safely peer over the edge and down the 300 feet to the rocks below. It was an incredible perspective.

Even though Felix comes out here every day, I could tell he still loved spending time here.

Eventually, we made our way back to the river’s bank and I thanked Felix for an experience of a lifetime. He also got his bonus for not letting me be swept off the edge!

My friend, Sarah, and I decided to visit Zimbabwe for the day, if anything to get our passports stamped so we could each scratch one more country of our lists. Sarah’s been to something like 35 countries – yours truly 27.

We got a ride to the Zambian border, processed through Immigration and then crossed the Victoria Falls Bridge into Zimbabwe.

Continue reading Zimbabwe →

A group of us decided to go on a rafting trip down the lower Zambezi River. After Victoria Falls, the river works its way through the deep gorge and east toward Mozambique and the Indian Ocean. In the 20 kilometers after the Falls, there is a series of 25 sections which have Rapids rated anywhere from a Level 2 to Level 6. Eight of us had heard that the Rapids were a lot of fun and wanted to experience them.

One of our group, Shaun, had been approached by someone when he first arrived in town with his fiancée, Nilay. This person offered to help him find a place to stay, but when Shaun said that he was all set on that count, the man said he could also arrange a white water rafting trip at a lower price than through the hostels. Shaun got his number with a very light promise he would get back to him.

Once at Jollyboys, our group got to know Shaun and Nilay, and when talk came up about going on a rafting trip, Shaun mentioned he had met this guy. Turns out, Shaun’s contact was offering the trip for a 33% discount relative to the going tour-group booking rate.

To ensure we were not setting ourselves up for a rip-off, we agreed to meet the owner, a Kiwi expat who turned out having the name Grubby. That’s right, Grubby. Grubby is a long-haired, chain-smoking bloke who showed up in a beat up old Land Rover.

Our bullcrap radar was on high alert. But after grilling him for a while, we decided he was on the up-and-up and confirmed the booking.

We were taken over to the river where we had to descend 1,500 feet to the Zambezi. The raft was inflated and ready to go, plus we were escorted by three very accomplished kayakers, who were alongside us to ensure none of us drowned if we fell in. We discovered that the guys in the crew were all full-time crew members for other companies – they were moonlighting on their day off.

We set out down the river starting at Rapids 7 – the seventh set after the falls. Since we had booked a half-day, we didn’t start right under the falls. Immediately, we hit the first set of rapids, rated a Level 3. We got a little wet on that. Subsequent rapids were a lot of fun.

Rapids 9 was rated a Level 6 – too dangerous for our group so we had to get out and walk the shoreline under the cliff. The raft was left to flow down the river by itself. The kayakers dove right into the rough water, and it was amazing to watch them maneuver their way through.

After rapid 13, we had a long stretch of the Zambezi that was calm, so we all jumped into the river to cool off. Rapid 14 was an easy Level 3, so we all stayed out of the boat as we floated through the white water in our life jackets.

We only saw one crocodile – a youngster about three feet long, summing himself in the rocks. Crocodile are not very prevalent along this part of the Zambezi because the water moves too fast for them. Also, crocs of any significant size that go over the falls will be killed in the rocks below. Sometimes the very little ones can escape death when they go over the falls.

After about three hours, we finished the 25th rapid with a boating high-five.

We were wet, tired, sunburnt and stoked. It was a fantastic experience.

A group of us went out to dinner and decided to try a Zambian delicacy – caterpillars. These yummies are put into the oven and cooked to a crispy texture. The restaurant we visited also put a unique sweet & sour sauce over them, but the flavor was very distinct.

My eclectic menu experiments thus far:

– Impala Steak
– Crocodile Pizza
– Crocodile Spaghetti
– Caterpillars
– What will be next?

Sunday came, and I had to honor a promise I had made earlier in the week. On Wednesday, I had had a wonderful conversation with Sister Maureen, and as we disembarked from the bus, she asked me if I was going to come to church in Sunday. How could I say “no” to a nun?

Sister Maureen said she would be at the 10:00 am Mass. I showed up around 9:40 because it was a shorter taxi ride than I had anticipated. The previous Mass was still in session, so I was offered a plastic chair in the courtyard, where the overflow crowd sat. The African hymns that were sung by the children’s choir were beautiful.

I was the only white person there, but the congregation was welcoming and friendly, especially during the exchange of peaceful intentions. A number of people came over to shake my hand.

Sister Maureen arrived in the back of the courtyard and I went over to chat with her for a while. It was wonderful to see her again. While we were chatting, a gentleman in khakis and and African designed shirt approached us. Sister Maureen introduced him as the Archbishop. Yes, I got to meet an Archbishop. He was a very nice man.

The previous Mass ran until 10:30. Sister Maureen thanked me for coming, and I didn’t really feel like spending another hour plus there, so I said my goodbyes.

Sister Maureen leaving church. 

Later in the day, I joined four other Jollyboys guests in visiting a local orphanage. The hostel arranges a weekly soccer game for the kids and encourages the guests to come play.

My futbol cohorts were Ed & Matt, two brothers from England who in addition to traveling the continent, brought 100 regulation soccer balls to distribute to orphanages. Ed had raised money to buy the balls. His brother Matt has lived in China for the last seven years, working as an English teacher.

The other couple in my group were Daniel and Keelin, a darling pair who were exploring Africa. Daniel is a tall, long-haired Korean Australian who gained the nickname John Lennon because of his Lennon-esque glasses and long hair. Keelin is also Australian and brings such a wonderfully calm presence to any group she joins.

Team Muzungu (white person in Swahili) arrived at the orphanage and Ed presented ten soccer balls to the orphanage. He asked if we could get pictures of the kids with the balls, but unfortunately their policy is not to allow the kids to be photographed. Completely understandable.

Ed (from England) presenting ten futbols to the women who run the orphanage.

Then, as we prepared to go outside to play, we were advised that the orphanage team has consistently destroyed the visitors. We had a feeling it was going to be a long, very hot afternoon on the pitch.

Since we only had four players (Keelin ended up hanging out with the girls, talking about boys all afternoon), the kids have our team a few extra players.

The game started and it was tightly fought for a while. Team Muzungu was able to score the opening goal. We were fortunate in that two of the kids on our team were very good players, and Ed was also able to hold his own on the pitch and scored three goals. With these superstars, we were able to build an 8-0 lead on the kids. Amazing.

The field was a partially barren, dirt area with the sidelines delineated by where the grass had been recently cut. There were stones, some the size of golf balls, in the dirt. The kids played barefooted and were amazingly agile. I was wearing my hiking boots (the only laced shoes I have on the trip), and I couldn’t help wonder how much pain I would be in if I ran onto one of those stones in my bare feet.

We decided to wrap up the game and announced that the next goal would win. After a few minutes of intense play, the kids scored their first (and winning) goal. They were ecstatic. It was fun to be a part of such a fun game.

As we said goodbye, the kids were all very polite and friendly. It was a great pleasure to have been a part of their day.

That night, one of the orphanage alums, Anxious (yes, that’s his real name), joined us for dinner. Anxious got his name from his father, who anxiously awaited his arrival in the day he was born.

Sarah (from Germany ), you’re truly and Anxious enjoying a Springbok Shooter.

He is a tremendously nice gentleman, and we had a wonderful time with him. He is currently in university and would like to be involved in the running of an orphanage in the future.

All in all, it was a fantastic Sunday, and it was a nice break from my travels and all the activities I’ve been pursuing.

After my adrenaline-filled day of high thrills from the VicFalls Bridge, I decided to step it down a notch for my next adventure.

There is a company called Batoka Sky that provides a number of tourist experiences, but the one activity I wanted to experience the most was to see the falls from a microlight airplane. A microlight is basically a hang-glider outfitted with two seats (one for the pilot in the front and one for the passenger in the back), a small engine and a propeller. When you see the little flying contraption, you really wonder how sturdy the thing is.

Unlike seeing an attraction from a helicopter, where one is in a loud but secure cocoon, a microlight flight is an experience that exposes one to the elements. It’s windy, unencumbered and quite the thrill.

I arrived at the airstrip, signed in and was then escorted to the aircraft. My pilot for the 30 minute ride was Heiko, a German expat who lives in Zambia with his wife and three adopted children. He’s been flying microlights for over twenty years.

I strapped into my seat and we were quickly taxiing down the runway. The acceleration of the microlight was impressive as we shot along the dirt strip. In the blink of an eye, we were airborne.

The immediate view was amazing as I had a 270 degree open view of the Zambian countryside. We quickly gained altitude and then leveled off at our cruising height of 4,000 feet.

The falls were immediately visible, revealing themselves with their mist rising above the horizon.

We made our way over to the falls and flew a half-dozen circles around this grand spectacle. While it’s one thing to see the falls from the ground, to witness them from above is a whole different experience.

The depth of the gorge, the black rock, the white mist, the blue water and the many colors of the perpetual rainbows all combined for an awe-inspiring view. I could have stayed up there all day.

After 15 minutes of enjoying this natural spectacle, we then spent the second half of the flight flying up the Zambezi River to view game, which come to the river for water.

Again, it was an amazing perspective to see these animals from the air. We saw hippopotamus, crocodile, elephant, water buffalo, gazelle and giraffe from our heavenly perch.

Heiko and I communicated via headphones with mics, and we had a nice opportunity to chat and get to know one another. As we began to head off toward the airstrip, he asked if he could take a moment and pray for me. Of course I agreed.

He then asked God to look over me during my travels and to get me to my destinations safely. He also asked God to help me find my ultimate path that will bring me fulfillment and happiness. He had sensed that I am at a key transitional point in my life, and he prayed that I would find the right answer with His help.

It turns out Heiko is also a minister – he and his wife also run a church when he isn’t flying. He really touched me and I quietly cried in the back seat of that little set of angel’s wings.

Once we landed, I thanked Heiko so very much for a truly inspiring and beautiful experience. While I’ve been blessed to see and experience so many natural wonders, it’s the people that have really provided such a fulfilling journey of exploration.

 

Continue reading Boing! →

There is so much to do in Livingstone (and by extension Victoria Falls), that a three day planned visit has turned into a seven-plus day stay.

Mosi-Ao-Tunya is the local term for “the smoke that thunders”, and it describes the incredible natural phenomenon of the mist that rises above the falls.

The mist is created by the amount of water that is coming over the falls. The volume of water displaces the air in the gorge forcing the air (and the mist in the air) to shoot above the gorge. When the water is very high, the mist can rise over 4,000 feet above the top edge of the gorge.

Per Wikipedia: “While it is neither the highest nor the widest waterfall in the world, it is classified as the largest, based on its width of 1,708 metres (5,604 ft) and height of 108 metres (354 ft), resulting in the world’s largest sheet of falling water. Victoria Falls is roughly twice the height of North America’s Niagara Falls.”

We walked into the main park and explored a number of trails that wind around a point that sticks into a bend in the river (and thus the gorge). Once we came into view of the falls, I was awestruck. There’s a reason this beauty has been classified as a World Heritage Site.

It’s nearly impossible to stay dry when walking around the national park, given the amount of mist that is shot into the air. The dynamics are amazing – you can stand there looking at the falls and see water droplets suspended in the air, neither going up or down.

We crossed a pedestrian bridge and were met by a baboon coming in our direction. The only thing was, she was balancing on the hand rail, a hundred feet above the river below.

I went with three mates that I had met while at the backpacker hostel. Fantastic people. Marit is from Amsterdam, Matt from England and Malcolm from Malta. We had a great time on this day and for a few days afterward.

We then hiked down to the “Boiling Pot”, an area where the Zambezi River comes shooting down a straight and then hits a sharp 300 degree angle. The Boiling Pot is formed by the river hitting the rock wall straight ahead and then eats away the rock before moving on to that hard right turn. The resulting  water features whirlpools and eddies, thus the name the “Boiling Pots”.

The Boiling Pots has a great view of the Victoria Falls Bridge, a very high structure that connects Zambia and Zimbabwe. Marit was kind enough to join me in a picture of the bridge:

The bridge also features high-adventure experiences, including bungee jumping. We saw someone bungee jump while we were down at the water’s edge:

After seeing that person jump, I thought, “Adrenaline is a great rush….”

 

I made my way to the Lusaka bus station, a seething maelstrom of touts, porters, buses, merchants, and indiscriminate riff-raff. Jammed to the gills with buses of a multitude of colors, each representing a different private bus company, the air was thick with loud horns as drivers were announcing their imminent departure.

I boarded my 9:00 am bus to Livingstone to find that someone had already taken my pre-assigned window seat. I was not in much of a position to make a fuss as the interloper was a nun. I gamely agreed to take the aisle seat, which would be a bit more uncomfortable for the seven hour ride as I would have nothing against which to lean my head for a nap.

The nun, Sister Maureen, was a kindly woman who was on her way back to her church in Livingstone. As I looked at her from the seat next to her, I saw so much of Oprah Winfrey in her face.

We we had very pleasant talks throughout the journey, and as we came into Livingstone, she expressed interest in exchanging phone numbers so we could stay in touch during my visit. She also made it a point to invite me to Mass on Sunday.

As I descended the bus steps, once again I was mobbed by young men all yelling “taxi, taxi” at me. The first man in the crowd was yelling “I’m first, I’m first! He’s mine!” – to the other drivers and me, as if I was a fresh piece of meat being argued over by a pride of lions. So, Owen got the fare.

Owen was a very energetic, talkative young man promising anything I wanted in Livigstone – restaurants, rides to the Falls, girls, pretty white girls, discos, tour guiding. He was in full hustle mode.

He dropped me off at the best backpacker hostel I’ve stayed in yet – Jollyboys.  A large, well-conceptualized operation, this place has anticipated every need the traveler may have. They even have three tour & activity booking desks to help one get the most out of their stay in Livingstone / Victoria Falls.

Dinner brought yet another culinary curiosity: crocodile pizza.  Yes, that’s real croc meat on the pie.

The the restaurant is run for the benefit of local orphans, who are at tremendous risk of following the wrong path in life. An admirable venture, to be sure.

After dinner, I came back to Jollyboys to find a large group of other travelers sitting around a large  table drinking beer and having a rousing time.  Every one of them was traveling alone, though some had joined together in previous towns to travel together for a while.  Lee from South Korea, Sarah from Germany (speaking English with a beautiful British accent), Jocelyn from Winnipeg, Malcolm from Malta, Ross from England, Mar from Holland – it was a virtual United Nations of travelers.

Some were heading north, others south. We talked late into the night getting to know one another, sharing stories and providing tips to those who would be traveling through locations others of us had just been.  While my travels have taken me to some incredible locales thus far, I’m also very thankful for all of the wonderful people I’ve met, both transient and local.

Post Script: It’s the day after my bus trip and Sister Maureen just called to make sure I’m doing well.

Lusaka, Zambia

Meet Alice from Switzerland and Abigail from Malawi. Abigail has a daughter named Emily, nicknamed Emmy.

My two nieces are named Abby (Abigail) and Emmy (Emily).

Fun stuff.