Victoria Falls and Chobe River

Vic Falls: Zimbabwe and Zambia

The lodge we stayed at was in the national park, so animals like antelopes, warthogs, and baboons lounge around, with the ominous eyes of the vultures constantly watching from the tallest tree. And they’re not allowed to kick the animals out, so if you happen to find the alpha baboon in your room, well, that’s your new girlfriend. The place was equally full of spiders and the ominous sounds of mosquitoes salivating. We shared one bed as the room upstairs could only be breached by a set of stairs a mountain goat would have found treacherous. In the middle of the night I thought a baboon had climbed in, but it was only the sound of my mother snoring and my brother grinding his teeth.

Somewhere along the way, the anti-malaria tablets we were taking must have mushed up our brains, or maybe all the insect repellent spray did that. Whatever the cause, our family would develop unstoppable laughing fits whilst on river cruises and game drives. It wasn’t helped by my brother and I having a competition to see who could take the funniest pictures of our mother. Our mother was very abiding, during the game drives she kept taking pictures of other humans in jeeps and telling us she’d spotted weird looking game. She’s short-sighted that way. Then she’d take photos of the ropes hanging from the jeep and assume they were weird looking insects. She’s also long-sighted that way.

Vic Falls has a nice mist as you walk through it. I would rate it as better than Niagara (but then again, what isn’t…) and below Iguacu. I definitely liked being able to walk up real close to the edge, oh wait, no, I’m a wuss with heights and nearly pooped my pants. The guide was offering a free bungee jump seeing as how it was New Year’s. I volunteered as no one else wanted it, but my mother refused to let the guide take me. Sigh. I mean, granted I would have been that 1% of bungee mishaps where I’d have passed out but it would have been fun before the coma.

We then got stranded at Zambia for two days, where we ate and slept, and my mother sweeped up hair from me and my brother because she was embarrassed by her shedding children and feared the janitor would think we were abominations.

Chobe River: Botswana and Namibia

I wasn’t really too sure about Chobe but every travel agent had suggested it, and now I can see why. It’s very impressive in its abundance of animals. So far Bostwana is my favourite.

Hippos are frigging adorable! They are. I have a hard time being scared of them. Baring their teeth is supposed to be a sign of aggression but do they know how cute they look? Are they trying to out-cute each other?

The guide would tell us, “this is a bad time for animals.” But within five minutes of entering the national park we’d see hyenas, impalas and baboons (deer and baboons are always together. I know it must be because they help each other spot predators, but let me imagine for a moment that deer and monkeys are best friends because they take turns riding each others’ backs). Within half an hour we saw lionesses sleeping. Then elephants crossing the road. Then giraffes. Then water buffalo. I mean come on, what’s the good time for animals like? Right, wildebeest stampede.

As far as food was concerned, we ate a lot. You know how if you left food on our plate as a child and your parents would say, “there are children in Africa who don’t even have food…”? Well. Everywhere we went there were buffets. We didn’t see the starving children because we saw lots of tourists, each with their own, “I have to finish ALL the food because somewhere around the corner, an African child doesn’t even have food.” Which doesn’t make that much sense, because if there are children who don’t have food, why are we eating all their food? The food was good, because despite my slight nausea (Chobe and Vic Falls are 3,000m elevation) the entire time I always ate. Damn you, guilty, tasty food.

Anyway, after eating too much food, I endeavoured to try clothes on. Looking through my phrasebook, I can’t find how to say, “I would like something to fit a person without tits and arses. And I can’t wear yellow, because I’m yellow already.”. Then I removed a shirt in the shop (I had tried four tops on, and forgot to go back into the change room stall), and my mother and the shopkeeper burst into laughter. Yep. So that happened. When you’ve flashed people in a different continent and in front of your mother, at least nothing worse can happen.