Departed Victoria Falls last night. Good to be moving south again after a week stationary. Three weeks of travel remain. Where has the time gone? A lot smoother on the rails now we’re travelling in Zimbabwe compared to the TAZARA rail network in Tanzania and Zambia. Train speeding along quite smoothly.
Alarm call at 0500hrs. For an 0600hrs departure to a game reserve. Except the train is late. By nearly an hour. Could’ve slept more. Open safari jeeps to Wankie National Park. Everyman for himself. Being the youngest and nimblest jump onto the back seat high up Spiderman like by legging it up using the rear wheel and over the side. (You’d be impressed if you saw how nimble I was).
It’s the one seat with loads of leg room for my giraffe like frame. The proper way is to use the small steps on the outside of the jeep to enter the middle row and then climb over one of its fold down seats to enter the back row. Rather large lady decides she’ll sit on the back row. Next to me. It’s a minor miracle she does it. Of Laurel & Hardy type antics.
Spend the next 4-5hrs driving along dirt tracks looking for wildlife. Like Selous National Park it’s a case of drive around aimlessly and hope for the best. A few elephant and giraffe are the highlight but not worth sitting in a jeep for 5hrs. Annoying woman keeps stopping the jeep at every impala and kudu she sees. It’s OK for the first few times if you’ve never seen impala or kudu but you soon realise that one impala looks like the next and there is simply no need to stop. Every. Single. Time.
It’s the same woman that had a hissy fit at the Botswanan border over some petty issue. She’s rapidly climbing up the punching charts. Her fellow citizens are even getting fed up of this routine but can’t really say anything as they’re all from the same “community”. It’s left to me to chivy things along. Driver is told to keep moving every time she asks to stop for an impala. Her friend who is sitting next to me keeps whispering, “Thank you, thank you.”. It’s hot. Very hot. Had enough of this rigmarole and thinking to myself that what I really want now is to go to the lodge for lunch find a nice cold air-conditioned room with a TV showing the Singapore F1 qualifying. Knowing full well life wouldn’t be that kind. Except. Today. It is. And it’s the BBC live feed. What more could you ask.
More power cuts on the train. Candle lit dinner. No AC. Stifling. Roasting hot. All the jet lagged tourists are moaning.
With the heat and everything else they’re finding wrong on the train – minor things like no running water (no pumps), no AC, the hair dryer doesn’t work, there’s a mosquito in my cabin – it’s all getting a bit fractious. Due to the numbers, dinner consists of two sittings. There’s a scrum each night for first sitting. The Canadians sit in the bar car by the door patiently waiting half an hour beforehand to get their place in the queue. The Swiss pull up a few minutes before and stand by the door before charging in ahead of the sitting Canadians. They only get away with it the once. A couple arrive in the dining car as soon as two people from the first sitting leave. They’re meant to wait until the dining car has been re-set. They’re told this and that second sitting isn’t for another half hour. “But we’re starving!” she screams. They’re also rapidly climbing up the punching charts. Never seen a bunch of travellers like it before. Must be the heat.
