Victoria Falls

​Yesterday was a long travel day. First, three hours on a chilly morning drive in an open game vehicle on unimproved roads through the bush to the airstrip. Then another hour flight in a Cessna Caravan. Interestingly, today both pilots were young women— and ours made one of the smoothest, most perfect landings I’ve seen in a while. Great that there are such opportunities for women in Africa! Finally, an hour bus ride followed by a lengthy border crossing (we’re back in Zimbabwe again) and another bus ride to our hotel.

Last evening we had our typical OAT “home-hosted meal.” A taxi delivered us to a modest house in the old township area. In colonial times, black residents were forced to live here, regardless of their economic status. So some homes here are quite nice, and others are shacks. 

We were met at the door by a very large woman who introduced herself. But when we had trouble pronouncing her name, she told us that her name meant “happy” and that we could just call her that.

The house is home to 3 generations: Happy, her mother, “Gogo” (meaning grandma), and children aged 20, 11, and 6.

We got the grand tour, including the kitchen. The preparation area, sink, and refrigerator were inside, the stove and oven just steps outside under a roofed patio to keep the heat out of the house.

In the kitchen they had set up a display of typical foods, including the tiny dried fish that are considered a luxury item, and the mopane worms that are a significant source of protein in this part of the world. Yes, we each ate one. Dried and roasted to a crisp, they taste like bacon, but with a somewhat uncomfortable crunch. Dinner was good.

This morning we visited Victoria Falls. It’s impossible to get a photo of the whole thing, because it’s a mile wide. 

After 3 very dry years, the rainy season here has been extreme this year. The volume of water going over the falls is at record levels, and the spray can go as high as 500 feet! (The African name for the falls before Livingstone — with typical colonial hubris — renamed them after his queen, translates as “the smoke that thunders.”)

The cloud of spray creates its own microclimate, so the surrounding area is a dense rainforest in the midst of a desert. Even though we were issued raincoats, we were well soaked by the nearly constant heavy rainfall. At the exit, I literally had to wring out my socks before we could walk on! It took all afternoon for my shoes to dry out in the sun. 

Most of the group returned to the hotel by bus, but we wanted to walk over the famous 1885 iron bridge over the Zambezi River gorge, down stream from the Falls. 

It was a short walk to the border post where we got a “bridge pass” without having to have our passports stamped again. Then we walked about a mile to the bridge through the “no man’s land” between nations. 

Neither Zimbabwe nor Zambia feel any need to maintain the road in this liminal space, so we got splattered with muddy water by vehicles passing us on the road. Baboons were playing on the parked semi trucks that were waiting to have their loads inspected by customs, and monkeys foraged in trash cans.

From the bridge, our view of the falls was largely obscured by the heavy mist, but the view of the gorge was quite nice. 

We walked back to the border station and presented our pass, then took a footpath that our tour leader had pointed out to us. It’s primarily used by locals as a shortcut and to avoid walking along the busy road that has only intermittent sidewalks. 

We spent the afternoon reading and relaxing by the hotel pool. Late afternoon we boarded the bus once again and headed up river for a sundown cruise.

At the ward we were greeted by a marimba band. An elephant and several baboons wandered by as we listened to them. We hardly notice anymore. The boat was an overgrown pontoon, and they served us a complimentary tropical cocktail and snack as we cruised. The snack included a cracker topped with crocodile meat. Tastes like chicken, but tough. 

Back at the hotel we had our farewell dinner on the lawn with a traditional grip singing and dancing for us. 

The evening concluded with a show at a nearby theater, for which we paid extra. It was sort of musical theatre with a plot based on a traditional story. The dancing was excellent — the dancers obviously classically trained. They also sang very well. But the acting was a bit sketchy at times. A good show, but probably overpriced.