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MarcusInAfrica

45 Blog Entries
1 Trip
354 Photos

Trips:

Cape to Cardiff

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The Week From Hell - Part One

Nkhata Bay, Malawi


Does what it says on the tin

Before embarking on this trip I had, given that I would be in Africa for at least a year, already accepted that at some stage or other I would be the victim of theft, I would catch malaria and would more than likely have at least one incident with the authorities.

However, I didn't figure all of these things would happen in the space of seven days. Yet they did, and by the end of it I was about ready to turn my back on Africa. Suddenly the option of being deported back to England appealed to me, but thankfully I rode it out and am stronger for the experiences I will now share with you.


Welcome to Nkhata Bay Police Station
It had started just like every other Wednesday in Nkhata Bay, a nice leisurely swim followed by breakfast at the lake's edge lapping up the early morning sun. Sat eating my fruit salad little was I to know that things were set to get worse, much worse, over the coming days, starting with Wednesday itself. If somebody had told me at breakfast I would be deported by the end of the day I would have laughed in their face, yet that was exactly what was set to happen.

What should have been a routine visa extension turned into the biggest mess possible. Not only did the immigration official, Mr Mitengo, try and charge me double the price that I knew I had to pay, but he then had the audacity to have me arrested for intimidation, amongst other things, for confronting him on this matter. Now I realise my use of the word 'corruption' may not have been the wisest, but still I found it hard to believe one could be arrested for simply challenging what amounted to attempted corruption.


The scene of THEIR crime!
If that left me baffled, what was to follow left me in a state of utter shock. Despite nobody being in the immigration office other than myself and Mr Mitengo when I got to the police station there was a witness ready to testify against me. What to me had started out as a trivial matter was suddenly becoming a rather serious one. My hope of this being sorted in an amicable and fair manner dropped when I saw the chief of police, Mr Morton Chitsulo, marching over to take charge of my case - not that there was a case in my eyes.

Two hours later it had become a grave situation. A statement, from, and I mean this is the nicest possible way, a local dropout who was not even present at the scene of the 'crime', riddled with lies and inconsistencies had been given against me and things were looking bad. Despite my subtle offer of resolving this matter in another manner, by way of a bribe, it was clear the gentlemen I was dealing with were on a power trip and wanted to make an example of me.

Due to their determination to prove a point I was not in the least bit surprised when they threatened to deport me - although I did think it was a little extreme given my innocence. I was however extremely surprised when they produced the form declaring me a prohibited immigrant in Malawi, which I was forced into signing (the threat of being sent straight to prison if I didn't sign was enough to jolt me out of the daze I had fallen into).


The building on the left is where I was locked up for an hour - not pleasant!
Having started the day in such a fine manner I was now facing up to the prospect of, first having to leave Malawi instantly, and then accepting I could never return here, ever. All I will say is thank the Lord our family knows somebody in Government here, who had enough power, and sense, to realise I was innocent, and further to that was prepared to do something about it. Needless to say Mr Chitsulo and Mr Mitengo were in a state of shock similar to mine from earlier in the day, when a phone call came through ordering them to reverse the deportation order against me.

What made me laugh was the next day when I went to resolve the matter, and get my visa extended, I assumed I would just have to pay the initial price Mr Mitengo had demanded. Yet I was thankfully charged the price I knew it should have been, thus proving I was being set-up from the start. I can laugh about this now, but at the time I was actually pretty worried, and it still worries me that these people have the power to pretty much do as they please, even if people are innocent.


No longer welcome in Malawi

So I must leave 'now days'....

To be continued...

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on June 24, 2009 from Nkhata Bay, Malawi
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Becoming A Dharma Bum

Ruarwe, Malawi


All Aboard The Llala
I have always been one for the simple life, but having just finished reading The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac, a great read for anybody who is interested, I was motivated to see just how basic a life I could live. And so with that in mind I hopped on the Llala, the ferry that services the lake, and set sail for a little place called Ruarwe.


The Approach to Zulunkhuni
It was my plan to camp here for two days before hiking back to civilisation, with the only catch being I had to be totally self sufficient during that time. Armed with my mbaula (African cooking stove), a healthy supply of food, and even healthier supply of charcoal and my tent I was ready to survive in a manner that is normal for so many people in Africa, yet alien to most of the western world.


Welcome To My Campsite
Before setting off I had seen a few pictures of where I was heading, but no amount of pictures could have prepared me for the natural beauty of Ruarwe and Zulunkhuni River Lodge. Charlie, the enigmatic owner, knew I wanted a spot where I could keep myself to myself, and he didn't fail to deliver. Tucked away at the top of the hill that Zulunkhuni is built at the bottom of is what can only be described as Malawi's most perfect camping spot.


One Happy Camper
Here there is no need for a tent, just a sense of adventure and a willingness to sleep under the stars. So without any hesitation I set-up my camp, which involved putting out my roll-mat and sleeping back before lighting a fire to cook lunch on. With no electricity at night my fire, and a temperamental old oil lamp were my only sources of light. Once they were out I was engulfed in an endless hole of darkness, consumed by the night sky until day break came to release me from its clutches.


The View To The Left Of My Bed
Lying in my bed I had two wonderful views, to my left I looked down to a series of waterfalls and to my right vast expanses of lake filled my field of vision. I often found myself lying there for hours at a time lost in a world of thoughts, mesmerised by what my eyes were seeing. It has taken me three months of my trip but finally I have discovered a way of life I could happily lead - just as in The Dharma Bums where the lead character embarks on a voyage living a life such as this.


Breakfast Is Served
From baking fresh orange oatcakes on my morning fire, to drifting away in my book with nothing but the sound of nature to keep me company I was as happy here as the proverbial pig in sh*t. There is something soothing to the soul falling asleep with the stars shining down on you and the flames of a fire gently licking you with their warm touch.


A Quiet Night In For A Dharma Bum
Society can keep its materialistic brainwashing for someone else, I will take a sleeping bag and be on my way to a happier existence than many chasing money will ever experience. It saddens me that so many people are carried away in a life they feel they should live, rather than having the courage to stand up and be different, to break free from the masses and live the life they want to, not the one society dictates they should.


Sunrise From My Bed
Due to that part of me wants everybody to have the chance to experience this place, but then a selfish thought pops into my mind that tells me to keep this a secret. For it is spots like this, unknown to nearly the entire world, that retain their magic and uniqueness by remaining a secret. So in that most won't be going here I am more than happy to share this little secret with you, just don't go telling anyone else.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on June 5, 2009 from Ruarwe, Malawi
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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The Mzungu Express

Nkhata Bay, Malawi


The Mzungu Express

Ever since arriving in Malawi I had been toying with the idea of buying a local bicycle as a means of transport, as well as offering me another medium for fitness. And with the most expensive African bicycle costing a touch under $100 I couldn't resist, and so I am now the proud owner of an Eagle Road Runner.


The Eagle Road Runner In All It's Glory
With my bicycle safely back in Nkhata Bay my mind began to tick over, and no sooner was I riding it around than an idea popped into my head. Whilst in Malawi last year I remember using bicycle taxis, more commonly known as 'cyclomento', and seeing there wasn't a single one here in Nkhata Bay I decided to become the first official cyclomento.


One Man and His Bicycle
You don't need a licence to run a cyclomento business, but you will need a few modifications to your standard African bicycle. First I needed a comfy seat for any potential passenger, and so it was off to the carpenter to have a cushioned seat made, which I have to say is just like sitting on a sofa. Next it was off to the welders to have reinforced steal supports put under the seat, after all you can't discriminate between customers based on weight.


The Modifications Begin
As is often the way in Africa you have one job done and it ends up leading to another being required, and so with a new seat and reinforcements fitted it was off to have a full service of my bicycle. A new set of tyres, and a few extra nuts and bolts later and my cyclomento business was one step away from take-off.


Reinforcements for the 'Larger' Customer
The final step, and by far the most important, was the sign for the back of the bicycle. In Malawi the word 'mzungu' means white person, so what better name for my bicycle than 'The Mzungu Express'. Finally my bicycle was ready for business, and so it was off to town to look for customers. It took me all of ten minutes to find my first client, who I cycled just over a kilometre for the handosme sum of 25p, a cheaper taxi in the world I don' think you will find.


A Seat Fit For My Queen (You Know Who You Are!)
Even though business has been a little slow of late, with many seemingly scared to ride with a mzungu, my bicycle has elevated me to something of a minor celebrity in Nkhata Bay. If I am seen walking anywhere now I am flooded with questions enquiring as to where 'The Express' is, and why I am not on it. Even a simple ride to the internet cafe is greeted with a host of shouts and whistles from market stall owners chuffed at seeing a white man on an African bicycle.


An Armchair Ride
Despite it being public knowledge I am here for two months I have already recieved a range of different offers for 'The Express' when I leave. Be it three ducks, five butter fish, a carving of my choice or as much Malawian Gold as I care for there are endless options when it comes to trading my bicycle. But for now I have a business to run and thus 'The Mzungu Express' will remain with me.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on June 4, 2009 from Nkhata Bay, Malawi
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Weclome to the Village

Nkhata Bay, Malawi


Welcome to Nhkata Bay

Having been on the move for the best part of three months my journey through Africa has dropped down a few gears since arriving in Malawi, as I always knew it would. The journey from Lusaka to Lilongwe was interesting to say the least, and it was with a great sense of relief that I made it back to a country that is very close to my heart in one piece.


The View From Work
When I was in Malawi last year I made tentative plans to return to Nkhata Bay in order to work, and as luck would have it life has brought me back here to capitalise on that chance. Situated on the shores of Lake Malawi there is a backpackers that is like no other I have stayed in before, and easily makes it in to my top three of all time.


Mayoka's Bar - Where All The Work Gets Done
Allow me to introduce you to Mayoka Village, my home for the next two months. Built on the shore of the lake this community based backpackers is tucked away at the foot of a hill and offers anyone who ventures there the most relaxing of times. There is not a room in the place without a view of the lake, which is a majestic sight as the sun dances over it's surface.


Another Busy Day At Work
In my time I have worked behind a few bars, and given they have all been in Cardiff the views from behind the bar have often been of drunken Valley girls that make hippos look attractive, or fights to mate with said hippo-girls. Here, thankfully, it is different, here I work behind a bar looking out over the lake, a sight that can't be beaten as far as bar views go.


A Perfect Place To Chill
And it's not as if it's a hard life as far as my work goes, four nights a week in return for all my food and accommodation - and those who know me will understand I can eat a lot of food! Look up the meaning of the word 'work' in the dictionary and I am pretty sure you won't find any mention of playing pool or socialising with fellow backpackers, yet during an avergae seven hour shift at least two are spent doing exactly that.


Welcome to My Office
Away from work life in Nkhata Bay is slow to say the least, with nobody but a small gang of craftsmen in a hurry to do anything at all - and these guys are only in a hurry to get your money so they can return to the rigours of getting high or drunk. One can while away days lazing by, or in, the lake, wandering the dusty sreets of the small town or simply sat under a tree with a good book.


The Path to Freedom
Up until now I have been on the move quite reguarly, and whilst that has its advantages there is one down side from my writing point of view - just as you are begining to scratch at the surface of life in any given country it is time to move on. However, with a permanent base here for the next two months it allows me to really explore and delve into the culture here in Malawi. And remember for those who want to see what I really do whilst travelling visit http://travel.sky.com/inspiration/blogs/Through-African-Eyes.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on June 1, 2009 from Nkhata Bay, Malawi
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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The 'Kalomo Butcher' Saga

Kalomo, Zambia

Monday 11th May 2009

The Kalomo Butcher With His Wives Beverly (red) Groble (pink) And Loveness (black)

Police in Zambia are on the hunt for the man responsible for the murder of two innocent chickens in the quite community village of Simakakata on the outskirts of Kalomo. The suspect, 25-year-old Marcus Leach, is believed to have fled to Malawi to slip the Zambian police's attention, although as of yet there have been no sightings of him there.


Heads Up
An eye witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, revealed how it was just another quiet day in Simakakata, the school was full of innocent laughter, elderly women stood under the shade of trees gossiping as the sun warmed the backs of hard working farmers and all seemed well. Yet just metres away from the local school an ugly double murder was taking place, as recanted here by our eye witness.


It's Almost Off Now
"The man looked like a killer, with shaggy hair and a bushy beard he seemed the sort who would just slay innocent chickens," our source said. "He was aided by three local women, who it is rumoured he took as his wives as part of the killing ritual, one of whom seemed responsible for the kidnapping of the chickens. She arrived on the scene with the chickens tied together at their feet and with no chance of survival, and that is where that monster of a man took control.


Seconds From Death The Chicken Knew She Was Doomed
"Holding the animals down with his feet he showed no mercy in cutting their heads off with a blunt knife. From where I was standing, out of their sight, I could see the animals twitching and fighting for their lives, but it was futile as he butchered them with a look of pleasure on his face. The poor animals were still twitching and clucking after their heads had been severed, it was ghastly.

"He seemed to rejoice in the killing of these animals, holding their heads up as trophies afterwards. I just hope the authorities catch him as he is clearly clucking mad."


This Is What They Call Sticking The Knife In
When police arrived on the scene they found the chickens hacked into small pieces, fuelling the belief that Leach will strike again if given the chance, and given the number of chickens in Africa that is a very real possibility. Whilst all three women believed to have married Leach during his stay in Simakakata have been arrested none are prepared to reveal information on his whereabouts.

Mr Zikani Lockemup'Nthrowawaythekey, head of Kalomo police, believes Leach is armed, dangerous and more than capable of killing again.

"Such butchery, whilst skilled, shows we are dealing with a crazy individual," said Mr Lockemup Nthrowawaythekey. "Further to that it is understood he is carrying a Leatherman and will stop at nothing to spill more innocent chicken blood."

The hunt for the killer continues, but in the meantime we advise everybody to lock up their chickens and alert police immediately if you happen to spot Mr Leach.

Wednesday 13th May 2009


Cut Her Clucking Head Off
The hunt for Marcus Leach, the man dubbed as the 'Kalomo Butcher', has moved to Malawi after police investigations revealed he had left Zambia in the early hours of Tuesday morning under the cover of darkness.

Immigration officials at the Mchinji border post confirmed Leach had indeed entered Malawi on a bus headed for Lilongwe, but had not been seen since. Zambian police continued to question his three wives, but all swore they would rather suffer the same fate as the chickens than give up their husband to the authorities.


Two Heads Are Better Than One
Both the Malawian and Zambian police have admitted they have very few leads to go on, although an envelope containing pictures of the crime was found at a backpackers in Lusaka. The gruesome images provide conclusive evidence that Leach is indeed the killer of these two chickens, who have been identified as sisters Lizzy and Bessie Feathers.

"I have seen some pretty grim stuff in my time with the police force, but this tops it all," said one of the investigating officers. "Above all it shows we are dealing with a disturbed individual who takes immense enjoyment out of his murders."

With the Zambian police at a loss with their side of the investigation the onus is now very much on their Malawian counterparts. With the search continuing the police have pleaded for anybody with any information to come forward as soon as possible.

Sunday 17th May 2009


Lizzy And Bessie Having A Hot Bath
The following is taken from a live broadcast the Kalomo Butcher gave late last night from a secure lake shore location, where it seems he is living quite the life in an all expenses paid chalet on the edge of the lake.

"Whilst I admit to killing the chickens I must stress it was not in cold blood, but in fact part of my cooking for senior members of the local community," Leach revealed. "It is not something I have done before, or will be in a hurry to do again, but it was a necessary evil that I took responsibility for.


Two Of The Butcher's Wives At Work
"I did feel for those poor chickens as I cut through their necks with a blunt knife, especially when they started twitching violently as the blade ripped their skin open. The worst part for me was getting half way through the second chicken's neck before letting it's head slip from my grip, meaning it was flapping around fighting for life with just a bit of skin holding it's head on.


Butchered According To The Colonel's Standards
"Pictures were taken purely on a professional basis so that I can accompany articles I write for my job with images of my journey through Africa. What makes me laugh is a boiled and then fried over fifty caterpillars and nobody bats an eyelid, but kill a few chickens and suddenly people think you are a psychopathic killer with a thirst for fresh blood.


Two Naked Birds - Result!
"Ask any of those who ate the feast I prepared and they will attest to my story, and further to that will tell you just how good the food was. I even have the recipe should anybody need a copy. For now I will stay at my secure retreat on the banks of Lake Malawi until police have spoken to village chiefs to clear my name and announce me innocent."

Tuesday 19th May 2009

All charges against Marcus Leach relating to the murder of two chickens in the Simakakata community near Kalomo have been dropped following a statement provided by the village chief.

Mr Zikani Lockemup'Nthrowawaythekey, the senior investigating officer, declared the case closed after Gift Mpenza, the village chief, confirmed the chickens had indeed been killed for a royal feast, and not in cold blood as had first been believed.

"Was food for my dinner," was all Mr Mpenza had to say in between mouthfuls of succulent chicken. The only remaining doubt centred around the manner in which the chickens had been prepared for this feast. But in order to be sure that the chickens had indeed been butchered according to the International Chicken Butchery standards Colonel Sanders of Kalomo Food Company (KFC) was brought in to carry out forensics.

"All I can say is them chickens were killed right and good, and they tasted finger lickin' good," said the KFC forensics chief, with chicken grease all over his white beard.

Despite being cleared of any wrongdoing Mr Leach is refusing to leave his hideout on the lake, citing the natural beauty of the area as his reason for staying there for the next two months. He was unable to comment at the time, given he was floating aimlessly in the lake without a care in the world.


The Aftermath Of The Killing

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 24, 2009 from Kalomo, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Grub's Up

Livingstone, Zambia


Step 1: Take One Plate Of Caterpillars
My desire to experience as much African culture as possible lead to one of the more interesting dinners I have eaten, not just on this trip but in my life. Fried vinkubala, or caterpillars to you and me, was not a meal I particularly enjoyed, and it is safe to say I wont be eating them again. But as the old saying says, when in Rome...


Step 2: Boil the caterpillars
I had only gone into the market in Livingstone to purchase a few vegetables, yet came back to my backpackers with an unusual taste in my mouth and half of kilo of dried caterpillars in my bag. You could say I only have myself to blame, as had I just walked past Banyina's stall I would never have brought the damn things, but curiosity got the better of me when I saw a giant dish full of fat grubs.


Step 3: Fry Caterpillars And Vegetables
At first I didn't believe people actually ate them, that was until Banyina - the lovely lady who was selling them - grabbed a handful and started popping them into her mouth like sweets. She offered me one to taste for myself, but as much as I wanted to just grab one and eat it my hand wouldn't do as my brain was telling me - if only I had taken this as a sign I would have eaten spaghetti bolognase for dinner as planned.


Step 4: Get Memory To Stir And Taste
Finally, after a few locals had eaten some to prove they were not so bad, I took one and put it straight in my mouth without thinking about it - past experiences had taught me not to think about the weird foods you are eating. At first I thought this isn't so bad, apart from being very dry and crunchy there was no real taste, but then this odd taste filled my mouth leaving me in desperate need for something a lot tastier to eat. Sensing this Banyina handed me a carrot which I began crunching on instantly, much to the delight of my taste buds.


Step 5: Add Tomato, Onion, Salt And Chilli
Despite this less than enjoyable experience I thought I may as well buy some and see what they are like cooked, and so I left the market with a bag full of them and a recipe that I was assured would make them a whole lot tastier. Back at the backpackers, and after a few drinks to take my mind off the thought of dinner, I began the cooking process.

Banyina Mutinta's Caterpillar Delight

Ingredients:
Lots of dried vinkubala (caterpillars)
3 fresh tomatoes
3 onions
3 green peppers
Large bunch of kalembula (sweet potato leaves)
5 cloves of garlic
3 Fresh chillies
Lots of salt
Cooking oil

Method:
Bring a large pan of water to the boil, add dried caterpillars and take off the heat. Allow the caterpillars to sit in the water and rehydrate for ten minutes. In the meantime cut two onions, two tomatoes and all three of the green peppers into small pieces and fry them in a pan with the kalembula, chillies and garlic.


Step 6: Serve With Fresh Vegetable Stir Fry
Once the caterpillars are hydrated, and big and squishy and slimy, drain them and add to a pan with hot cooking oil in. Fry those lovely little would-be-butterflies until they are crispy, adding as much salt as you desire. Once crispy add the remaining onion and tomato, finely chopped, into the pan with a little chilli and allow to fry for a further five minutes.


Step 7: Eat And Try To Look Like They Are Tasty
Serve together with the kalembula mix and as much extra chilli you need to mask the taste of the caterpillars.

Whilst I ate a good twenty caterpillars I cant say they were particularly nice, and left an unsavoury taste in the back of my throat all night. And no matter how many beers I drank the taste was still there, as it was the following morning when I woke up.

So in case anybody doubts me on this, take my word for it, caterpillars are not, I repeat not, a suitable replacement for spaghetti bolognase or any other food. In fact they should be left to do what mother nature intended of them, turn into butterflies. But if you still doubt me venture into the market in Livingstone and ask for Banyina Mutinta and she will gladly sell you a bag full to try for yourself.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 11, 2009 from Livingstone, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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A Night To Remember

Livingstone, Zambia


Sunset At Vic Falls
Take a full moon, a cloudless sky, Vic Falls and a sprinkling of stars, mix them all together and what do you get? Quite simply the single most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life - a lunar rainbow.


The Lunar Rainbow Crew
I had been to the falls a few days before full moon, and at first wasn't sure if I would venture back there again, and given I had the chance to watch my first game of rugby in a long while, I almost didn't go again. But thank god I did, as it was breath-taking, as you can see from the pictures - which I must point out were all taken at night, even though some appear to be during the day.


Where's The Pot Of Gold....
Armed with a picnic that could have fed the five thousand, seven of us arrived at the falls just in time for sunset, which in itself was a site to behold. The sky burning a crimson red over the falls, the sound of thunder reverberating deep below us, rising up through your feet into the pit of your stomach, whilst all around plumes of mist rise into the air.


Can You Spot The Rainbow
Having been told the rainbow first appears at the far end of the falls, where the water escapes into the boiling pot and onwards down the Zambezi, we set off for the furthest point one can walk to. In order to get there you have to be prepared to get wet, very, very wet - the kind of wetness one can only get from having a bath emptied over their head.


Lunar Rainbow From Behind The Falls
But once at the far end of the falls, wet and cold, we caught the first sighting of the rainbow. Suddenly all the talking stopped and thoughts of being cold evaporated as each and everyone of us was completely overcome with what we were seeing. It was a perfectly clear night, not a cloud to be seen, the stars shining proudly and there right in front of us the most perfect rainbow you will ever care to see.


First Sighting Of The Lunar Rainbow
The rainbow comes due to a combination of the endless mist that hangs in the air at the falls and the light of a full moon. Whilst you can't always see every layer of colour perfectly the arc of brilliant light never fades, and when the mist dies down slightly, as it does from time to time, the colours become more prominent. Standing there, with what is like torrential rain (but in fact is just the mist falling) relentlessly beating down on you, the roar of the falls and this mesmeric sight was worth every second of work I put in to save for this trip. These are the experiences you can't put a price on, that will stay with me forever.

With the moon getting higher in the night's sky the arc of the rainbow was constantly changing, and at one stage it was close to creating a full circle of colour. After a while we accepted it was either move and get dry or stay and get a nasty cold, so we moved to the banks of the river just at the edge of the falls. Here we were able to watch the rainbow slowly fade away, because of the angle of the light from the moon.

Eating a picnic on the banks of the Zambezi, whilst watching a lunar rainbow, has to rate as one of the finer dining experiences of my life - never before has a simple sandwich tasted so good as it did here. Sadly the rainbow eventually disappeared, but it will never disappear from my mind.

It was pure luck that I happened to be in Livingstone when there was a full moon, but a word of advice to anybody ever going there in the future, make sure you plan to be there for a full moon so that you can experience the lunar rainbow. It is one of the things you must see before your time in this world is up.


Lost In A Rainbow Dream

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 10, 2009 from Livingstone, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Following Livingstone's Trail

Livingstone, Zambia


The Falls In All Of Their Glory

Having finally made my way from Lethlakane, where I said so long to Mum and Dad, to Kasane I was all set to cross the border between Botswana and Zambia, but not before a rather testing night in my tent.

When it rains in Africa it rains, and when that rain is a tropical storm anybody not in a watertight location finds out about it, as I did on this fateful night. Reports of rain heading towards the area were not wrong, and knowing the rain was imminent I decided to settle into my tent before they arrived. No sooner had I zipped up the door than the first smatterings of rain could be heard on the waterproof cover of my tent.


Looking Along The Falls
As the rain intensified the rumbles of thunder grew louder, accompanied by constant flashes of lightening, until finally the storm was literally above my head. The combination of the noise of the thunder and the violent streaks of lightening gave me some idea as to what it would be like to be at the heart of a bomb raid, minus the actual bombs that is. With the wind howling my tent was under a major attack from the elements, and as I expected the first leak began at the door.

Four hours of rain later, seven full cups of water caught from the leaks and the storm had passed, giving me the chance to poke my head out and asses the damage. I was greeted by the sight of mud rivers running either side of my tent, leaving me questioning my desire to pack up camp and head to Zambia in a little under six hours time. After a brief sleep I awoke to find the rivers had ceased flowing and the sun was doing its best to fight through the clouds.


The Craziest Border Crossing Yet - Zambia!
This was all the encouragement I needed and before long I was packed up and on my way to the Zambian border - which is one of the wildest, unorganised operations I have ever come across. The fact there is no bridge over the Zambezi, which separates Zambia from Botswana, makes life there very interesting. A ferry goes back and forth all day long, taking one lorry, one car and as many people as can cram onto it, creating chaos every time it docks. Due to only being able to take one lorry at a time there are, on both sides of the river, seemingly endless queues of lorries waiting to cross. Talking to one driver he explained when it's busy he can expect to sit and wait for anywhere between two and three weeks just to cross the river!


The Smoke That Thunders
Finally in Zambia it was straight to Livingstone, where I was based for a week. The main focus of being here was of course to visit Vic Falls, which was quite an experience, especially given it was the tail end of the rainy season and the level of the river was higher than usual. From my backpackers I could see the mist that is thrown up by the falls, known as 'the smoke that thunders', as it literally looks like the smoke from a massive fire, combined with the sound of the waterfall itself.


Two Great Explorers - Livingstone And Leach!
After a few days of relaxing in Livingstone, and letting my tent dry out, it was off to the falls - which included a failed attempt to go to Zimbabwe for a day. Despite having been told a fair amount about the falls nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced. As I said the falls throw up great plumes of mist, and due to the high water levels at this time of year they can all but make the falls disappear behind a white veil of water. Due to this when I first got there I couldn't actually see the falls, that was until the wind blew the mist away revealing the most magnificent sight.


Down By The Boiling Pot
I couldn't help but think what Livingstone himself must have thought when he stumbled across the falls - not knowing he was going to find them and just stumbling across them. As far as explorers and travellers go Livingstone is right up there in my list of heroes, one of the real trailblazers in that sense. At 1700m wide and 107m deep the falls are a wonderful force of nature, one that left me realising just how small and insignificant we as a race are in comparison to the natural elements.


Getting Wet At The Falls
With the first sightings of the falls out of the way it was time to cross 'The Knife-edge Bridge', in order to walk down to the far end of the stretch of land that forms the gorge where the falls dump the masses of water that flows over them. It is at the bridge where the mist thrown up is at it's worst, resulting in going from bone dry to saturated in under a second. It made the storm in Botswana seem like a light shower, but unlike in Botswana I was more than happy to be in the middle of it.


The Bridge To Zimbabwe
Once over the bridge there are two paths, the one that takes you right along the front of the gorge and continues the drenching process, and then a relatively dry one. Obviously I opted for the wet route, reasoning that it couldn't get any worse than the bridge - clearly I was wrong. It went from torrential rain to someone holding a power hose above my head as I walked along, which given the setting gave me a feeling of total freedom as the water washed over me.

I left the falls feeling totally invigorated, if not a little damp, but safe in the knowledge I had seen one of the true wonders of Africa.


The Knife-Edge Bridge

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 8, 2009 from Livingstone, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Nothing To Do In Kubu

Gweta, Botswana


Welcome To My Paradise

After two days of pure amazement at Mashatu it was only right we spent a few days doing nothing but reflecting on what we had just experienced, and relaxing in every sense of the word. And where better to do that than at Kubu Island in the middle of the Sowa Pans.


Happy Travellers En Route To Kubu Island
Having stocked up on enough food, water and alcohol to last two days we set off towards Lethlakane, from where it is possible to drive out onto Sowa Pan. Sowa Pan is like nothing I have experienced before. For starters there is no electricity, no running water, no houses, nothing but vast stretches of moon-like scenery as far as the eye can see. As we drove towards Kubu Island, which is actually only an island in the true sense of the word during the rainy season, the odd clumps of grass appeared, finally giving way to a small cluster of trees on the horizon.


Baobab By Sunlight
The trees began to grow in stature, until we were only a few kilometres away and suddenly all I could see was giant Baobab trees everywhere set among vast boulders. This was Kubu Island, a place where one can forget they are on planet earth and in fact forget that anybody else is alive apart from themselves. In the two days we spent there, apart from two park rangers who camp there, we saw one other family, who left on our first morning leaving us in this little piece of paradise alone - or at least that's what I thought.


Welcome To Our Campsite
Alena had inspired me to downgrade from dorms to a tent and thus I got myself one before we crossed the border into Botswana, and Kubu gave me the first chance to use it. With Mum and Dad safely tucked up in a their own roof tents I was down on the ground in my new home, and it didn't take long before I had my first visitor, albeit a rather unexpected one.


The Perfect Setting For A Campfire
I had drifted off to sleep, with the doors opened so only a mosquito mesh separated me from the outside world, only to be awoken by a sniffing and scratching at the edge of my tent. I thought it would be some small animal having an inquisitive look around our campsite, so it was without a second thought I poked my head out of the door. It took me all of 0.0009 seconds to retract my head and zip the tent back up. What I thought was a small animal was in fact a brown hyena - not exactly what you want to see in the small hours of the morning with nothing but darkness surrounding you.


King Of The Baobabs
A tentative, yet firm, kick against the side of the tent where I spotted the hyena was enough to discourage it and allow me to return to a fitful sleep - funnily enough my thoughts were more concerned with the possibility of further visits from wild animals than with getting a good night's sleep. Upon waking in the morning I couldn't decide if I had just had a bizarre dream or not, that was until I looked around my tent to find a plethora of sizeable paw prints in the sand.


Riding Along On My Automobile!
Needless to say the second night's sleep was a little restless, yet despite a few strange noises I thankfully had no further visitors to my tent door. Our time there was spent doing little more than reading, sleeping, and reconnecting with nature - something everybody needs to do from time to time. Without a doubt the highlight of every day at Kubu is sunrise, sunset and something I have never seen before - the moon setting.


Baobab At Sunrise
Given that the pans used to be seabed it is no surprise they are almost perfectly flat, which lends to the most amazing scenes and colours during dawn and dusk. In the morning the sky is lit up in a dark pink long before the sun pokes its nose over the horizon, but when it does shafts of molten orange spew over the earth's surface scorching all that it envelops. Sunset is equally as impressive, with shades of red and pink I have never seen before etching their mark into the sky, a sort of red carpet for the moon to dance along as it takes over the nightshift.

It was whilst sat around the campfire on the first night there that the three of us noticed the moon sinking, heavy under the weight of the night's sky. Closer it came towards the horizon, being forced lower and lower until finally it began to slide out of view as if somebody had it on a string pulling it into their world and away from ours. Soon followed the stars, all sliding as if the canvas they were painted on was melting, everything slowly dripping towards the abyss that lay below.

My lasting memory of Kubu will be the Baobabs at sunrise. I have always said if I was a tree it would be a Baobab, or the upside down tree as they are more affectionately known, and to see them in such brilliant light was a true pleasure. Sadly we only had two days at Kubu, as I could have easily spent four or five there, and in leaving my time with Mum and Dad was all but an end, but not without some truly amazing memories that have enriched my trip yet further.


Sunset At Kubu Island

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 7, 2009 from Gweta, Botswana
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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The Wild Side Of Botswana

Gweta, Botswana


Ready To Hit The Road

As a backpacker it is almost impossible to see the true Botswana without being part of an overland tour or having your own 4x4 vehicle. I was lucky enough to have a week in Botswana with Mum and Dad, who had hired a fully kited out truck to get a feel for what they were getting themselves into with purchasing their own back in Wales.


Two Happy African Campers
No sooner had we entered Botswana than we opted for the minor road over the main one, which basically meant we were heading north along the banks of the Limpopo River on a dirt track. Whilst I had experienced this sort of road before it was a new concept to Mum and Dad, and thus took a little getting used to, but soon we were up to speed and headed north a happy bunch.


Not So Comfy Campers
After a gruelling (for Mum and Dad at least) five hours driving it was time to set up camp for the night, and where better to camp than right on the bank of the Limpopo River where one could watch for hippos and crocs to the symphony of Vervet Monkeys playing games in the trees overhead. The truck was kited out with two roof tents, that whilst not small were not exactly big which lead to quite a comical night's sleep - choruses of laughter accompanied every movement Mum and Dad made in the night. Where as I was more than comfortable in my tent Mum and Dad were wedged into theirs like sardines in a tin, and watching Dad, all 6ft6 of him, trying to get out in the morning was simply classic.

I Eat Pieces Of Sh*t Like You For Breakfast


I've Got The Horn
Packed and ready for the off our journey took us further north into the Tuli Block where we would be staying at Mashatu Game Reserve for two nights. I have, over the course of my life, been lucky enough to visit some special places in this world but few can match Mashatu and all that went with it. For starters it is southern Africa's largest private game reserve at over 30,000 hectares, and with no perimeter fences you really are in the wild. On top of that main camp is one of the most idyllic places I have stayed, there are not many places in the world you can sit eating your dinner watching an elephant drinking at the water hole.


Elephants At The Watering Hole
In our time there we had four game drives, two early morning sunrise drives and two late afternoon sunset drives, and saw more wildlife than you would care to shake a stick at. Given that it is a private reserve there is no need to stick to the tracks, but rather Fish, our personal ranger, got us so close to the animals it was quite surreal at times. When you are sat within ten metres of a wild lion, looking him straight in the eye, you can't help but feel inferior and in awe.


Time For A Drink
Fish warned us not to make any movements, as this would constitute a challenge to the lion and when you are sat in an open air truck with no doors there is only going to be one winner. If I thought the lion was impressive it faded into near insignificance compared to the leopard we tracked for almost an hour. The leopard is an animal of immense beauty and grace, and given that most sightings are brief this was, even for Fish who has worked at Mashatu for twenty-eight years, a rare treat.


Me And Our Ranger Fish
Having tracked it along the dried riverbed we had to make a hasty exit in order to see it stalk two impala back on the open plains. Sadly, for us but not the impala, there was a lack of cover for the leopard to operate with and it was thus unable to attempt a kill. So it was back into the riverbed to watch it climb an almighty Mashatu tree (the tree the reserve is named after) as it hunted for a guinea fowl to snack on. It was here he disappeared into the branches and we left knowing we had experienced something only a handful ever will.


Marty (Watch Madagascar) And His Friend
As majestic as seeing the lion and leopard was, being a elephant lover the piece de resistance was without a doubt the vast herds of elephants we had the pleasure of following and observing. In the past I had on a few separate occasions seen a maximum of four elephants together, but here we saw herds of up to fifty, and at one stage had over two hundred walking past us as we stood atop a small hill drinking coffee early in the morning.


Three Day Old Baby Elephant
At one stage we were parked by a section of the river with a small pool of muddy water, no more than twelve metres from the truck, watching a three day old elephant playing in the mud. It was comical, cute and magical all at once and quite honestly I could have spent hours watching the little fella rolling in the mud, struggling to find his feet and working out how to use his trunk, which was clearly still something of a mystery to him.


The Leopard We Tracked
It is one thing to see these animals on television documentaries, or even in wildlife parks, but to come face-to-face with them in their own environment is quite something. Here they are in charge, this is their turf and they will defend it according to their natural instinct, which basically means attacking to kill if they feel threatened or challenged in any way.


Three Happy Safari Goers
Given the time we had here it was a wrench to leave, but safe to say I will at some stage in my life be going back to Mashatu, the land where the giants walk, the land where you can be at one with these giants, a land where dreams can come true.

The King Of All The Animals

They Call Me Mr Pig


A Creature Of Beauty

An Elephant Crossing


Eye Spy With My Little Eye Something Begining With E

Mum And Dad Living The Dream

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 5, 2009 from Gweta, Botswana
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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