In search of Father Jack.

When I went out to check the bike this morning I noticed it had a stablemate. A Polish, apparently ridden from Poland and on the way to Cape Agulhas. Unfortunatly I didn't meet the guy and the bike had departed when I returned. Good to know of fellow bike travellers around though.

Well I'm in Livingston and was wondering what to do today and someone mentioned there was a waterfall on the local river, so I thought I'd go and have a look. I first asked the lady in the hotel and she said she could organise a trip for $95, to include National Park entrance fees. This seemed a bit steep, so I asked if I could just ride down the 10km to the park and take a look. She grudgingly agreed this was possible. I asked how much the park fees were and she told me they were $20. I'm sure you know my next question but I had to ask what I got for the extra $75. A ride a 10km to and from the park and a guide, apparently! A guide for a waterfall! As I've seen other waterfalls without a guide, I thought I could manage without one.

On the ride to the falls I noticed these cyclists, well laden. People say I carry too much on my bike but these guys are really loaded. Then I remembered that this road goes to the border and had heard that goods carried on a bicycle carry no duty, hence the heavy loads.

Just before I got to the falls I stopped and had a look at the river. It was big and wide and seemed to have a good flow going. I also noticed the sign which explained a big flood in the 1950s and mentioned the name of the river, the Zambizi, I'd heard of that. Hoped the waterfalls would be good.
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As I rode to the park I got a bit carried away, went too far and passed all the lorries queuing for the border. This caused great excitement for the fixers, one of whom ran about 500 metres to nab me, only to find me doing a U turn and heading back to the park entrance. I parked up and noticed the baboons around so put a waterproof cover on my tank bag to discourage meddling.

The fee was indeed $20 and a Canadian lady I met later thought that was a bit steep. This waterfall better be good. I'll let you decide from the photos below whether Victoria Falls(or locally, Vic Falls) lived up to its reputation.
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This is tremendous stuff. Loving the wildlife encounters. Thanks for sharing with us.. :thumb2

R
 
Some of the photos are a bit misty, caused by the spray generated by the height and force of the falls. Calling it spray is understating it, as in places it was real rain and I and my phone and camera were soaked by the time I left. Wouldn't have missed it for the world though. I was told that the view of the falls from the Zimbabwean side was far superior to the Zambian side but I'm not so sure. I viewed the falls from Zimbabwe last year, admittedly with less water flow, but I think the Zambia view compares well.

This statue was quite prominent and I presume Mr Livingstone had something to do with discovering the falls and named them after the British queen at the time. I came across these baboons on the path, an adult preening a couple of little ones and this little one just crawled out from underneath the adult. The bridge that links Zambia and Zimbabwe is over 100 years old and was part of a project to link Cairo with Cape Town by rail, its also now a very high bungee jump.
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We'll today was a short run up the road of 200km to Choma, but it was still disappointing to wake to rain. As I slowly packed and had breakfast the rain eased and it brightened up. By the time the bike was packed the rain had stopped and I left the carpark without waterproofs but as I reached the road it started again, so I did one of my famous U turns and put the waterproofs on.

It was steady rain as reflected in the first photo below. The road was very good and there was a fair bit happening on the verges, like this guy pumping up his bike and this fellow waving cheerfully in the rain. The main product being sold was charcoal and I could occasionally smell the smoke from its production. In the towns there was fruit for sale but as you can see very little variation. My favourite photo however, is of the little girl in the red dress.
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This main road as I said was good with hardly a pothole. It was going through undulating countryside but none of the hills were steep and I was able to keep up a reasonable pace. This allowed my to keep in front of most of the lorries, but not this guy. He did give me a wide berth and only pulled back in when he was well past. When you left the main road then things changed and like this road down to the hotel, there one or two potholes. Some of the side streets in the town weren't great either. On the way, I passed a few villages with round thatched huts still in use.
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I arrived at the budget hotel in another downpour. As seen in the photo of the water was running off the terrace roof. The bike was sodden and I soon parked it up on the veranda to give a bit of protection.

My arrival seemed to have thrown the 2 ladies left in charge of the hotel and I immediatly gave them the additional challenge of getting the advertised digital TV services to work. This was in the forlorn hope I could see the Ireland v Wales rugby game. This was amusing to watch and they finally explained that there was only one channel operating, but the guy was on his way to get the other channels. When he returned we got the channels to work but no rugby. I did get a commentry of the game and delighted to hear Ireland played well and won.

Just after that the power dropped and they gave me an emergency light. That was fine cos I still had internet access through my 2nd phone as the hotel router was down and my phones were fully charged after the ride. I couldn't boil a kettle though. Finally the power stuttered into life and I could hear a generator in the distance. At this point I fancied a coffee and filled the kettle on the little table in the corner. Then noticed it was not plugged in and had a 2 pin plug on a half metre lead. I searched the room but no 2 pin socket. I then got out my adapter and plugged it into a 3 pin square socket above the bed. I know I may be losing some of you by now but I will continue. Then I placed the kettle on the bed(short lead) and when I did so, the lights went out and when I unplugged it they came on.

Now I could have brought this problem to the 2 ladies at reception, which may have been amusing, but ultimatly of no help at all. So I did without a coffee for a while then hit on the idea of using my travelling kettle. People say I carry too much stuff but unexpected situations arise and using my 1kw kettle worked with the generator, where the 3kw hotel kettle did not. These are the things you get up to on a wet Saturday afternoon, in a cheap hotel, when its pouring with rain and its still pouring.
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Jim: great account...and I am delighted you are sharing my recent experience of Choma last October (which was torrential rain, electricity cuts and an extension cable that didn't work!).


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simondippenhall said:
Jim: great account...and I am delighted you are sharing my recent experience of Choma last October (which was torrential rain, electricity cuts and an extension cable that didn't work!).


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Click to expand...
Yes Simon, some places never change and I didn't mention the bucket in the corridor catching the leak. Tipping it down at the moment too!

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Enjoyable read Jim. Hope that the warmth of an Irish win helped to dry you out. (stuart might not be so happy)! Safe travels.
 
I woke up in my budget hotel in Choma to rain and a power cut, oh good! I had 300km to ride today and it seemed I'd be doing so without coffee for breakfast or to take in my flask. Breakfast consisted of a bread role purchased yesterday containing something that looked like spam, washed down with mineral water. Having showered and packed I headed off into the rain. The intensity of the rain varied between light drizzle and pretty heavy. My measurement was how hard it hit my exposed fingers, from using finger-less gloves.

Not many photos today in the dreadful weather and these are affected by a wet lens. As it was Sunday there were lots, like this man, in Sunday best on the way to church. These ladies trying to keep dry under the red umberella. Lastly both people and animals sheltering under the thatched round shelter.
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Today in Lusaka was all about getting a few jobs done. The first was to visit a bike repair shop as I decided to change the front sprocket on the bike, to reduce the gearing. In fact my plan was to go back to the original gearing in the expectation it may help to ride into the headwinds. I found an independent repair shop and went along. Sadly the had moved the repair side of the business out of town but recommended a local Honda dealer. As this was a 15 minute job I also felt confident Honda would be able to carry out the work. My optismsm proved misplaced.

The security guard directed me where to park and I went inside. Having introduced my self to the service coordinator I explained the nature of the work and that I had the part to be replaced. All was going well until I mentioned that it was a Suzuki bike. He immediatly said that was impossible as only Honda bikes are repaired there. I pleaded that if I could only borrow the correct large spanner I could do the work myself. He then suggested I go to a hardware store and buy the spanner. This was not going well!

I asked to speak to a manager, as I felt they would not want it written up on the internet that an overland motorbike traveller had been refused support from Honda. He did not like that, but seemed to be feeling exposed, so I produced the map of my trip to show to the manager and he went off. He came back in a while and put a form in front of me. I asked what this was for and he said they would do the work. This was just the start of the paperwork.

He laboriously entered all my details on his computer and produced 3 pages which I needed to sign. Then I handed over the part and he asked if the bike needed a service. I said no but it made me think. I then asked if the engineer could change the oil and filter. I had a spare filter. He agreed and I had to counter sign the change in the job card. The engineer then asked how much oil the bike took and I said about a litre. Later I checked and with a filter change it was 1.15 litres. I informed the engineer, he looked glum and said he'd put in a request for 1 litre and would now have to put one on for 0.15 litre. This was a tightly managed operation. When the work was done I was given an invoice, in fact 3, each to be signed and then taken to the cashier to be paid and finally the bike was returned to me.

With this experience, and similar paperwork at the hotel, coupled by the excessive admin at the border I wonder why this country is like it is. I used to blame the admin in western Africa on a legacy of the French love of paperwork, but if that is so, then this excessive admin must stem from the British. There must be massive paper stores here somewhere. Anyway rant over and the bike seems fine and we'll see how it does on the road tomorrow.

Heres the bike outside the Honda dealer.
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