Let me introduce myself so you're not embarking on this nostalgic journey with a total stranger.
I'm Melanie Ball, a university science degree drop-out, widely published travel writer (an accidental career borne of my African journey), author of three bushwalking guidebooks (Top Walks in Victoria, Top Walks in Tasmania & Top Walks in Australia), and hat decorator under the name Appliquez Moi. (That's me with the sun-bleached hair and west African fabric sarong. I don't know the baby chimp's name because we weren't formally introduced.)
From infancy my parents read to me and my sisters — C.S. Lewis’s Narnia series on long drives to Queensland for summer holidays, Paddington Bear in bed with Mum on Sunday mornings— and encouraged us to read to escape, to learn, to laugh. No book was off limits and all three of us are life-long voracious readers.
Two very different books profoundly influenced the teenaged me: Wilbur Smith’s When The Lion Feeds, the first of his multiple adventure novels set (mostly) in colonial southern Africa, and Jane Goodall’s In The Shadow of Man, detailing her ground-breaking study of wild chimpanzees in Tanzania. (Jane Goodall's recent death, in her sleep, aged 91, while on a talking tour, made me sad but also made me re-examine, remember and celebrate the extraordinary life and works of the woman who David Attenborough called "the conscience of conservation".) Together and separately, those two books ignited in me a romantic fascination for Africa and determination to go there, a dream that I finally realised at the age of 26, when I joined an Exodus Expeditions London to Johannesburg overland adventure. I had reached London by overlanding with Exodus from Kathmandu to London (11 weeks of ups - close encounters with rhinoceroses in Nepal, sunrise on the Taj Mahal, the wonders of Istanbul - and lows - five weeks of Delhi Belly that, surprisingly but thankfully, left me with an iron gut), and explored Egypt for several weeks, but my 17 months away from home were predominantly about finally experiencing the extraordinary continent that is Africa.
When my passport (containing multiple visas) was stolen from my daypack on the London Tube the day before the tour departed, my dream was all but dashed. But the passport was newly issued in London and, faced with my near-hysterics, the efficient and compassionate Australian Embassy staff issued me a new passport in one hour!
And so, the adventure of my life began.
P.S. I have edited excerpts for poor grammar and to protect the innocent and the guilty.
P.P.S. Most photos in this blog are scans of prints - and I didn't take many before reaching Morocco.
Up with those taking a scenic flight. Hot shower was just warm. Sat around the fire trying to warm up, made tea and coffee, and breakfasted when the truck (and flyers) returned, the flight having been cancelled till anything from 10am on. Hurled bits of wood at the monkeys to try and keep them at bay while we ate.
The sky was clear when we woke but mist rolled in from the delta onto our bacon sandwiches. Cool damp drive to Buffalo Gate with our canoe polers and poles in the back with us. Bumped and churned our way through sand and trees to a landing point where our canoes were beached. We saw cooking pots and fires but not any huts. Waving a fond farewell to Kelvin back on the shore. Geoff, Markus, Myrta and I set off onto the misty Okavango Delta
Camp was thick with mist when we woke on a damp strangely quiet morning. Spiders’ webs moist with dew covered the bushes, looking like the branches had caught wisps of the mist.
Woke to the patter of rain and dropped the sides round an oblivious Hakan. Looked out at our camp and saw garbage scattered everywhere, the oil pan tipped over and a shadow with flowing eyes at the edge of the light carrying something away. Beyond the glowing eyes was a raised back and I realised what it was. When I screamed at Hakan that there was a hyena in camp he grunted and changed his sleeping position.
We worked as a three-person tarp squad when the rains started to patter on the roof in the middle of the night, scrambling to bring in spices and other perishables from outside. Climbed back into my bag worrying about my souvenirs so got up again to check they were okay (Kel had fixed the gaping hole in the tarp. Damp breakfast before ploughing further down the sandy road.
Drove into town (query, Kasane), where some of us got off to buy gorgeous posters from the Tourist Information office. I accompanied Myrta to find a drink but the bar was shut so sat on the truck while everyone else finalised their banking. We each got a surprise refund of $US10 from the food kitty so don’t need to change any myself.
Victoria Falls first thing in the morning are even more gobsmacking. I wandered down before dawn and stood above the gorge listening and watching. My view along the gorge into Zimbabwe was blocked by a solid wall of mist, constrained by the walls and then ballooning into pink cloud above, turning apricot and gold as the sun rose.
Went with Markus & Myrta to the Zambian side of Victoria Falls, getting spectacular side views of the falls, rainbows and the pedestrian bridge with the Zimbabwean bridge in the background, all blurred by huge clouds of spray. Walked along the wet and slippery pedestrian bridge, spray drenching us. Returned late morning and sat down where the Zambezi foamed on rocks and wrote, inspired by the sounds and sights.
Crack of dawn breakfast before we headed to the Zimbabwe border post.
Into town after breakfast to buy stores with Nikki - I bought a delicious red apple (had almost forgotten what they taste like) - and search for fabrics, Kelvin explained that our new itinerary would take us straight to Victoria Falls and then give us more time in Chobe National Park in Botswana.
Into Lusaka early for four hours of discovering the city's highlights: 8 letters waiting for me at the post office for 8 letters! Jim and Kel’s attempt to get a black-market rate of 9.4 Zambian Kwacha for one US$1 nearly landed them in the drink, escaping more serious consequences than police questioning in a back room only through bluff and bluster.
More of the same. Lots of reading and Scrabble. Changed money pre-lunch in a town with one line of shops, a Barclays Bank, and a huge selection of bread – looking good. Lunched in a narrow roadway between tall grasses. Enjoyed a late afternoon beer stop in a town sporting a huge, brand new insurance building.