Life Changing Experiences in Africa

From chapter 5: UP THE ZAMBEZI

After driving through Botswana by bus, I made the obligatory trip along the slippery paths and gazed in awe at the immense Victoria waterfalls with the honorary soaking from their spray.   Soon it was time to rendezvous with my tour guides at the Zimbabwe/Zambia border for my Jungle Junction trip.   Arriving at a remote crossing on the fast flowing Zambezi River I was transferred to a dug out canoe to cross over and reach the small holiday island. At that point I would have preferred being at home watching someone else make this crossing on a television programme rather than experiencing it in real life with crocodiles and hippos in the river!  Thankfully the skilful polers deftly delivered me safely into the care of the tour guides running the island resort.

We slept in small tents dotted around the island that had to be kept well zipped up to stop snakes crawling in.  Footwear also had to be kept out of sight as there was a kleptomaniac crocodile on the island prone to eating any shoes left outside!  You could meet a hefty hippo on the paths or even a full-grown elephant as they had been known to swim across onto the island. All around us the forest trees resounded to the chatter of mischievous monkeys and the persistent calls of large brightly coloured birds sounding like hungry babies crying.

From Chapter 10: THE MILLENNIUM ARRIVES

On the eve of the New Millennium we had unexpected visitors staying with us from Italy, Sweden and Korea.  These tourists had to sleep on reed mats on our kitchen floor as the roof of our rondavel hostel was being rethatched.  Exhausted by their authentic Zulu experience, they were asleep long before twelve o’clock, despite the hard concrete beneath them.

The village seemed too quiet but my husband and I were wide awake for that auspicious date.  Just before midnight we heard a lot of shouting and went outside, creeping over the multicultural bodies in our kitchen.  Suddenly the clear night sky erupted with fireworks all over the valley.   We just sat there enjoying the display all round the valley from our vantage point, wondering how the new millennium would turn out for us.

On Millennium Day we went to a special gathering in another valley where groups of young Zulus, dressed smartly in matching outfits, paraded and arranged dates with the opposite sex.  I was the only foreigner there and was constantly challenged, as maybe they thought I was a journalist.  I told them in Zulu that I was ‘umfazi’ (a Zulu wife) and after their initial astonishment they accepted me among them.  While I was sitting in a hut where they were having a traditional singsong, some young men tried to bargain with me to meet my daughters, boasting that they could offer me many valuable cows for the lobola/bride price, but I told them it would be hopeless trying to arrange anything with my strong-willed British girls.