Feb 122012
 

This is a village just outside the Lower Zambezi National Park in Zambia. We visited while on canoe safri. As we drove into the village we were greeted with glowing smiles from everyone. The kids were all excited to see us and came running up. We were introduced to the lady in the red headscarf who is the wife of the village Headman. When asked how old she is she didn’t know and when she informed us that she was in fact the Headman’s only wife she beamed a big smile. The lady with her back to the camera is one of her eight daughters and all of the children in the photo were her grandchildren. The place was full of kids and it turned out they were all her grandchildren! We asked how many grandchildren she had. She had to think for a while and said about thirty.

Here, they are demonstrating one of the steps involved in producing nshima – a maize dish that looks like mashed potatoes.  They’re using a giant mortar and pestle to remove the husks from the grain. Maize and water go into the large wooden pestle on the ground. Then, they take a big wooden mortar each (you can see one lent against the hut in the background) and they take turns lifting their pole and dropping it back down. They did this at a great pace.

Village women surrounded by children using a giant mortar and pestle to remove the husks from the grain to make inshima – a maize dish that looks like mashed potatoes - in a village outside the Lower Zambezi National Park in Zambia

Feb 032012
 

It’s hard to leave Water Horse Safari’s Fly Camp on the Zambezi river after 3 nights there. It’s got the best showers in the world. You stand there with a chest height wall around you and solar warmed river water pouring over you. At the same time you’re spotting wildlife running past in the clearing ahead of you. They’ve got toilets, welcome after a night in the bush. They’ve got a table under a canopy and they have two-men mesh tents with comfy single beds in them. Square meals were prepared nightly and wine, poured from a bag, was available. Perfect.

Each morning we woke up to the sounds of grunting hippos and this view across to Zimbabwe. It doesn’t get much better than that.

 

View across to Zimbabwe from Water Horse Safari's Fly Camp on the Zambezi river in Zambia with blue canoes on shore, large tree and glorius sunrise.

 

Jan 242012
 

Our last day paddling our way down the meandering Lower Zambezi was an exciting one. By now, the surroundings were familiar and comfortable. Working in tandem to navigate the river was almost second nature. It even became easier to suppress the fear of crocodiles that occasionally welled up in my mind. This was despite coming closer to the eerily calm reptiles than we ever had before.  As we approached midday, we spotted a group of elephants on an island. After paddling into a small inlet, and walking a very short distance, we were approximately 30 feet away. The elephants acknowledged our presence, but continued munching away and even moved closer. I was completely focused on grabbing a good photo. Once I realized that most people had already moved on to return to the canoes I turned to follow. It turned out that we weren’t departing. Our guides had prepared lunch for us, the usual beautiful fresh salad to accompany the most processed meat in the world. They were some form of Frankfurter, but were fluorescent pink on the outside and white in the middle. So, we ate and watched the elephants munch their way back across to the other side of the island. Then, they started to head to the water and we followed. They took the plunge and meandered their way down the Lower Zambezi.

Elephants eating grass on an island in the Lower Zambezi in Zamiba.

Jan 082012
 

Blue canoe and paddle on the shore of the Lower Zambezi River, Zambia at sunrise with the trees and orange sky reflecting in the river.

I’ve called this photo Safe Harbour, but that’s probably debatable. It was taken the morning after our first night camping on the Lower Zambezi. The day before, after a few hours of paddling, we’d had a taste of the upcoming rainy season. Clouds loomed and bellowed across the sky. We saw rain falling in front of us and behind. It was also raining to our left, where the storm was coming from. Debate raged, while the wind picked up, as to whether or not it was heading directly at us or would pass just behind. Our Zimbabwean guide, called CB, quelled the debate. He was a soft-spoken individual, typical of the people we’d met during our time on the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe. He told us we’d be making camp an hour earlier than planned. The storm was heading straight for us and the strong winds increased our chance of capsizing. We began to paddle a bit harder than the previously relaxed pace of the day. The landing spot pictured above came into sight and CB gestured for us to head in. At this point, we experienced just how terrifying an angry hippo can be.

“Paddle! Paddle! Paddle!”

CB was suddenly animated and we spun around in our seats to see what was happening. The second-last canoe was moving faster than I knew a canoe could. I swear it was actually on a plane, the nose rising and falling with each paddle-stroke as it ploughed through the water. About five feet behind was a hippo, surging through the water with it’s head bobbing up and down with each forward thrust. We’d find out later that, apparently, one of the people in the last canoe struck what he thought was a rock with his paddle. As you can probably guess, it was a submerged hippopotamus – the creature second in line to the mosquito for causing the most deaths per year in Africa. The chase probably spanned about 15-20 feet or so, before the hippo calmed down, but it definitely gave us a taste of what we’d gotten ourselves into.

Once we reached land and pulled our canoes ashore, the rain set in. Most of us had rain jackets. Chris and I had lightweight rain jackets that didn’t shield you from the impact of the rain, and this was rain like I’ve never experienced. It was coming in sideways and the drops must have been the size of marbles. You could feel the impact of every single one. We were better off than George though, an Aussie we’d met back in Livingstone who decided to join us. He’d left his rain jacket on a bus a few months earlier and, not having any need for one in the dry season, hadn’t replace it. Four of us stood next to each other, with our backs to the onslaught, for him to hunker down in front of us and try to stay dry. It didn’t work very well. The rain didn’t take long to pass and we set about making camp.

It quickly became evident that this would be an interesting night. We were setting up on sand, amongst dried elephant and hippo dung. As it turned out, the grassy, muddy field behind us was a popular night-time feeding place for elephants and hippos. On top of this, it was hot. Keeping the fly sheet on the tent was not an option, so we slept with nothing but a mesh tent separating us from the outdoors.

A quick wave of our flashlights revealed the startling close glint of eyes in the darkness and we settled in for the night. Just prior to falling asleep I heard the trumpet of an elephant. It sounded like it was right outside the tent. I remembered CB’s advice that we would hear animals and they would sound far closer than they really were. With this in mind, I drifted off to sleep. I woke up a few times in the night, once to the sound of hyenas, another to the sound of lions, and repeated the mantra that they could be heard form a great distance away. I drifted off comfortably each time.

However, we had at least one very close encounter. In the morning, my tent mate Chris told me he’d woken up to the unmistakable thud of elephant dung hitting the ground. We’d become accustomed to this sound on our elephant-back safari a few days earlier. He said he actually felt the vibrations of it hitting the ground. Sure enough, we found a fresh deposit just outside our tent. I only wish he’d woken me up so I could try to shine a light outside and spot one. This might be why  he didn’t wake me up.

As I mentioned this photo was taken in the morning, just before the sun came up. I’ve combined 7 exposures from -3 to +3 in Photomatix and then cleaned it up in Photoshop.

 

 

Jan 012012
 

On day four of our canoe safari on the Lower Zambezi most of our group was enjoying a lazy afternoon snoozing in the shade or fishing. For a few of us, boredom set in and we decided that it was time to go for a swim. It may seem like a simple activity, but when you’re surrounded by hippos and crocodiles you err on the side of caution. We had a chat with our guide who said that we’d be safe in the shallows of this sand bar on the opposite side of the river. So, we piled into the canoes and made our way upstream before cutting across to the island.

It all went smoothly until we got close to the island and realized that what we thought was a rock was a hippo. A hippo that seemed to enjoy disappearing underwater and popping up in a  completely new location. Our three days of canoeing experience told us that as we moved into the shallows the hippo would head for deep water. Fortunately for us this is exactly what happened and we pulled our canoes ashore.

We knew that we could swim off the sandbar. What we didn’t ask was where off the sandbar. The area where we pulled our canoes ashore was deep and we knew we couldn’t swim there. Everybody began wandering around our private island looking for shallow water and I began looking for a photo. There was this small pool of water which lent itself nicely to catching a reflection of the mountains in the background. In order to maximize the amount of reflection I set my camera up as low as I could.

If you click on the image and open up a larger version you can see our campsite in the middle of the far bank. It was a great place to spend three nights. I’ll be posting the morning view from our tent soon.

 

Sand bar in the Zambezi River, Zambia with a small pool of water  reflecting the mountains in the background.