Three days on the Zambezi River

When you read the articles promoting this idea, your romantic mind conjures up images of sundowners on the banks, and idyllic days spent gliding gently down a wide beautiful river with out a care in the world. Well, while I cannot disagree with these dreams, the reality is a little different. Day one starts off at the crack of dawn. After the long drive from civilisation to the gate of the national park, we are delivered into the capable hands of our experienced and knowledgeable guides. So far so good! A drive reminiscent of those you see on TV where the hostage is taken on a wild goose chase so that they can never find their way out ensues, whereupon we arrive on the banks of said river with no means of escape. Everyone is milling around and not venturing down to the waters edge where the canoes are waiting. In my naivety I enquire after the reason for this: "there is a family of hippo just off the bank and we don't want to upset them" pipes up my other half who is determined to make the most of this adventure. "Oh. Right." is the most optimistic response I can muster as I reach for my water bottle to lubricate my suddenly dry mouth.

You see, it is one thing being on the banks of such a mighty river with the perceived safety of the vehicle to protect you from any wild animal that happened along; it is another thing entirely to be face to face with said wild animal from the close quarters of a vaguely unstable canoe. This said, however, how hard can it be? Loads of people have safely endured this same experience and come out the other side, boring their friends and relatives with stories of "When I was on the Zambezi" So back to the adventurous mindset that put me in this predicament in the first place and the knowledge that I can sound like one of those people when I arrive safely at the other end!

Eventually we set off. A briefing before departure has left me little doubt that I will not be in possession of much dignity by the end of the week. As luck will have it (!) I am paired off with my dedicated and loving husband who, I am sure, will look out for my best interests throughout the week!
Teamwork is essential and who better than your life partner for the task. Mistake number one! Steering a canoe down the Zambezi requires a PhD in some field or other I am sure. There are a number of obstacles to avoid: logs, tree stumps, sand banks, oh yes, and don't forget the crocodiles and hippos who seem very keen to make you paddle 50 times further than the stretch of river you are exploring in order not to disturb them! Before too long you will realise that this is less a vacation and more an exercise in patience and listening and should be brought to the attention of marriage counsellors the world over! "Paddle left quickly, we're getting left behind! Not so hard your turning us too far round!" At this stage we are caught in the current and heading backward in the very direction that the guide has told us to avoid due to the large group of hippo having their afternoon bath. "This is your fault! You told me to paddle this way!" And so it goes on until you have five minutes or so of not being hunted by hippo.

So we arrive at our first camp and everyone is friends again. The tents go up and the bedrolls go down and the aforementioned experienced and knowledgeable guides crack open the gin and tonic knowing that everyone could use a drink.
At this stage all the memories of the terror and torment of navigating our way down the great Zambezi River vanish and all the amusing anecdotes and stories start around the camp fire. Ah now, this was what I envisioned, all will be fine from now on. Then I need the loo. Now, I am aware that this is a touchy subject with some people and that others harbour no such inhibitions. I am of the former kind and upon collecting my spade, loo paper and matches (there are no flushing toilets on the banks of the Zambezi) I was horrified to note the lack of protective foliage for those wishing to relieve themselves. The island that we had landed on was like those deserted ones you see in cartoon strips, with sand and one palm tree, although our palm tree was missing! Facing the camp for fear of mooning my camping buddies, I settled myself on the other side of the tents and hoped for the best. No comments on my return reinstated a bit of confidence and the night wore on happily.

Bedtime was of the same ilk as those dreams you have before setting out. You know, sleeping under the stars with the peace and tranquility of the wilderness around you, or so you might think. This was a little more like sleeping on the M25 at rush hour! I am convinced hippo don't sleep as they were up all night gurgling and burping and generally creating a commotion which, I might add, was just outside our tent! There were footprints to prove it in the morning! Added to these noisy creatures was every other nocturnal African beast in competition with each other! Make sure you go to the loo before bedtime as it is a little nerve wracking heading out in all that!

Nonetheless, morning arrived and breakfast was had! It must be said that food in the African bush tastes better than any restaurant anywhere else, and it is all cooked on one pan over a fire! So after a full fry up we set off on day two worth of obstacle avoidance, only this time we have the added challenge of a little breeze blowing up river. I say little breeze, perhaps more like howling gale! Needless to say everyone was soaked through and a little chilly but in fairly high spirits. Fishing turned up nothing for our two avid fishermen although, when they finally lost interest and handed over their rods to the guides, it seemed all the fish came back!

Another night and I began to get used to the loo debacle and the noises around camp. We had seen a vast amount of game including two herds of elephant and a rhino so campfire stories that night turned to narrow escapes and adventures of Livingstone proportions! Bedtime. Needless to say that Gin and Tonic and mosquito repellent notwithstanding, I was covered in bites around my ankles and wrists and so spent all that night finding different ways to take my mind off the itch!

So to another day of paddling. I had no idea there were so many hippo nor quite how large crocodiles looked close up! This was the final day and what with physical exertion all day and cold baths in a bucket at night - there is no hot running water on the Zambezi - we were all looking forward to a hot shower. This was not to be had for a good few hours though. Once we arrived at the fishing camp that was our destination and unpacked all the canoes and loaded the kit onto the open back Land Rovers, we had a 4 hour drive out of the valley back to the gate where we were picked up. What they only told us as we were leaving was that it was a slow four hour drive through a tsetse fly infested valley! For those of you who are have not come in to contact with such beasts they are like the evil twin of horseflies! We spent the entire journey slapping each other with our flip flops as this was less painful than being bitten.

And so we reached the gate and our vehicle ready for the drive back to Kariba. The ordeal of 3 days on the Zambezi was over. Would I get in a canoe with my husband again? Would I brave the mighty Zambezi? Would I do it all again? Yes, I would! At the first available opportunity!