Can tell we’re not travelling very fast through the night as the carriage isn’t rocking as much and there’s a pronounced gap between the clickety and the clack.
Another day on the rails (which is better than going off the rails I suppose) and told that due to speed restrictions we’ll be arriving later at Livingstone than planned. So the hot and sweaty bush dinner surrounded by mosquitoes is off and we’ll be eating on the train in a nice air-conditioned dining car. Jolly good.
Spend most of the day reading or looking out of the window and waving at locals. Give up on trying to write diary as there’s too much rocking and my writing resembles drunk writing.
Every time we pass a village all the children come running out to wave but even so the train manager tells us that one of the mini buses has had 5 windows smashed by locals throwing stones.
Not a good day for electricity. There are a number of power cuts. Which knocks out the AC. Which makes it very hot. And no lights.
Actually arrive in Livingstone 2hrs earlier than planned. There’s a slightly celebratory mood now we’ve arrived. It’s not the final stop mind. A celebratory G&T is called for. The Crazy Dutch Girls ask what I’m drinking. “We’ve never had G&T before”, they say. What? Ever? Apparently not. They’re introduced to the delights of Mother’s Ruin. Events at dinner shall remain in the diary but suffice to say we can hardly eat for laughing so much. Something about a pasta machine amuses.
