Zam & Zim – countries of ups & downs

During the rainy season, the landscape around Lusaka, the capital of Zambia, appears rather European – flat and green. From the plane you see a familiar rural landscape of loosely spread settlements, where woodlands are interwoven with fields. The first great surprise awaited us already at the airport – there was a real welcome committee. Zambian officials shook our hands at the exit from the plane...

the traditional Zambian performers were dancing to the wild rhythm of the African drums...

Cool, isn't it? These are the advantages of taking an inaugural flight – yes, we were the first ones to fly on FastJet's new route from Dar-Es-Salaam to Lusaka.

Through the windows of a taxi-car, Lusaka looks tidy and well-arranged, so we jump into conclusion that we must have arrived to the most civilised country in Africa and our regular defense systems are put to rest. This first cosy impression is well... premature. We get to the bus station and we soon experience Africa's hustling at its worst. Twenty or so guys jump at us, each shouting straight into our ears that we should get their bus, they pull our arms and want to relieve us immediately from the burden of our luggage. They all ensure us that their bus is just about to leave. Experience has already taught us that the more aggressive the bus hustlers are, the less their bus is likely to leave anytime soon, especially if it's still half empty. Experience has also taught us, that in this situation, the only way to leave anytime soon is to find the office of a respectable company, which sticks to the timetable. Of course, the hustlers stand in your way and drag you to the sides to prevent you from finding the one. In case you ever plan to go from Lusaka to Livingstone, remember that the one is Mazhandu Bus Family Company :).


Livingstone is a rather soulless town in South Zambia. Obviously, it was named after a great explorer David Livingstone. This town is, though, a gateway to the most magnificent site in Southern Africa – Victoria Falls. Town itself is boring, but it offers a bunch of exciting activities that can keep you busy for more than a week. First day we get amazed by the views of the falls, the second day we get stunned by the bath in the Angel's pool. The third day ..., it turns out that many activities are cancelled due to the rainy season, the access roads and rivers to the Zambezi park are flooded, water is also too high for a rafting. Famous Victoria Falls bungee jump is very expensive and anyway we feel we had enough of hair-raising sensations after the Livingstone Island bathing. Reluctantly we opt first for a walking Safari in the Mosi-oa-Tunya National Park and one-day trip on the Zimbabwean side.


We were hesitant about the walking Safari, because in the wet season the odds to spot wildlife are meagre. The animals are dispersed due to an abundance of water and food, high grasses obstruct the view and elephants decided that it's just too wet and roamed far away on the Zim side. In the end, we decided to 'take a walk on the wild side' and did not regret it. It gets thrilling while you stand eye to eye with a buffalo and start thinking: is it about to charge?

In these moments, the fact that next to you stands a ranger with an AK-47 is quite reassuring. You find out that dangerously looking wildebeests are very squeamish - they kept on running away all the time, whereas nice looking zebras can be vicious – they kick and bite. Fortunately, no one from our expedition has experienced their viciousness, though the guide insisted that they are so; the guide's opinion is therefore vividly contested by Ieva – for her zebras are just perfect.

The highlight of the walk was an encounter with a wild, white rhino. First, we kept on tracking him for at least half an hour and then he appeared, lazing in the bushes no more than three meters from us.

 You see him so close and you cannot help contemplating: 'Wow, it's big!'; 'Wow, it's horn is really big!'

At such a distance, with no protection of the car shell, the slightest movement of this creature makes you freeze – you look around and calm yourself: 'That's fine the Kalashnikov guy is still there'.

Although Zimbabwe was only 10 kilometers away, we hesitated to go there because even a one day trip would cost us in visas 80 USD per person – 30 USD to get to Zim and 50 USD to come back to Zam. Eventually, having nothing better to do on the Zam side we decided to make the trip. They stamp you out on the Zam side, then you walk for five minutes, you cross the scenic Victoria bridge, you walk another 10 minutes on the 'no man's land' and you get to the immigration office on the Zim side. They check my passport, issue a visa, all is fine, until they tell Ieva: 'Madame, you are from a group C countries, which means that you need to apply for a visa in your home country'. 'That's too bad' - we shout back. First of all we are already stamped out of Zambia, which means that we need to pay 50 USD to come back and second I've already paid 30 USD for my Zim visa. This fee turns out to be, of course, non-reimbursable. We are though in Africa, the land where all is feasible, the officers come out with two alternative and brilliant solutions: alternative one – I go by myself to admire the wonders of their beautiful country; alternative two, for an additional USD 70 'agency fee', the formalities normally reserved for a Zim consulate in Vilnius, can be somehow sorted out at the border. Ieva doesn't find it particularly appetizing to pay in total USD 150 for a one-day trip, on the other hand if now we decide to turn back we'll anyway lose together USD 130, without even seeing anything. We pay and off we go.


On the Zim side we spot first wild warthogs, grazing calmly on the grasses growing alongside the road – they don't see to be bothered whatsoever by the presence of humans. 

Shortly after you get approached by the street-sellers. Surprisingly their key merchandise are former (now, out of circulation) Zimbabwean dollars. The country was plagued by hyper-inflation that reached grotesque levels, in exchange of 1 USD you can become an instant trilionaire by getting a single banknote with a nominal value of 100, 000,000,000,000. 

If, somehow, you are not interested in these, indeed unique banknotes, from another pocket the same seller will swiftly pull out copper bracelets. If, even the copper does not satisfy you, from yet another pocket, the same seller will take out wooden masks (they have flat and elongated shape that's why they fitted into the pocket). If you have no money, no problem, all the vendors are more than happy to exchange their precious works of craftsmanship for your great shoes or T-shirt. And yes, they all assure you that they made the bracelets and the masks themselves, in spite of the obvious facts that they always look the same). Zimbabwe is called the land of rains and thunderstorms and indeed it rains cats and dogs the whole afternoon.

Zim turned out, in the end, to be a tasty experience. In the evening we tasted a warthog steak with an African dancing troupe in the background.

In the afternoon (the day after) we tasted a British colonial dolce vita - high tea at the Victoria Hotel, the oldest in Zim, where the Zebra skins and Antelope heads hang at the walls, together with the posters praising the wealth that the Colonies bring to the crown. Let's make it clear, this place was not really our style, we treated it more like a hotel-museum, a relic of the past. Of the past that we neither approve of nor we long for. Of the past that for millions of African people meant slavery, humiliation and exploitation and for the chosen few from Europe – a paradise on Earth. Victoria Hotel is the place where everything was left as it was 100 years ago in spite of the fact that all around has changed. A place where the film crew producing a sequel of the movie 'Out of Africa', based on a novel by Karen Blixen, could start making it straight away without any rearrangements and decorations (all they need to do is to remove computers from the counters). The view from the hotel's terrace over the Victoria Bridge that accompanies the high tea biscuits is beautiful.

If Ernest Hemingway stayed in this kind of places, no wonder that: 'he never knew of a morning in Africa when he woke up that he was not happy'.