Let´s go to Montserrat (28.05.08)

I am very tired as a guy in our dorm snored the whole night and kept most of us up. I can´t believe the noise I heard came from a human - it was vile. It sounded like a phlegmy death rattle. At times he stopped breathing for what seems like ages and then started up again with a monstrous snort. I found myself wishing he might just stop breathing permanently.

Went to Montserrat today: a mountain with an historical monsastery up the top that contains a shrine to the patron saint of Catalonia - la Moreneta. I am not sure where the shrine was, although we may have seen it without knowing - didn´t have a guide book. There was a black Mary statue in the chapel that a lot of people were lining up to kiss so maybe that was it. I am not sure why Mary was black - again, didn´t have a guide book. The monastery also houses lÉscolania, a famous boys choir that is believed to be Europe´s oldest (dates back the the 8th century).

We had to catch a train there and then go up by cable car - our second in a week. Everyone in Barcelona and the surrounding areas seem to live in apartments - even in rural areas. We have only seen a handful of houses. I am glad Australians believe in the quarter acre block dream. Even our 350 square metres in Ringwood seems luxurious.

The views from the top of Monserrat were good - may have been great if it wasn´t raining and cloudy. We caught this tram thing called a funicular up to Sant Joan (a chapel) Apparently you can see the Pyrenees from up there. We did see some caves where hermits (a sort of monk) lived. Believe it or not but we also saw an Egytion mummy and a mummified crocodile in the museum. This place has everything! We also caught a funicular down to the Santa Cova (another chapel) where according to legend the image of the Virgin Mary apeared in a cave. She didn´t appear to us. Along the path to the chapel there were lots of religious statues created by artists which form something called the Rosari Monumental. Gaudi even worked on one piece.

All in all, a good day, except for the food (part of our 35 Euro ticket - should have got the 21 Euro one). Jon said he would rather have eaten dirt.

Getting Fit (27.05.08)

Jon´s legs are still swollen, red and painful to touch. He thinks he may have cellulitus so he has prescribed himself a course of keflex (antibiotics).

Afer he convinced me he didn´t have deep vein thrombosis and didn´t need to be rushed to hospital, we decided to go on a walking tour of the Gothic area of the city to hear some history. I am glad we did as I would have gotten thoroughly lost trying to do it myself and would also be none the wiser. It seems that half the buildings in Barcelona are being restored and have construction frames around them with a large picture of the facade stuck in front of the actual building. The main Cathedral is a prime example of this. I can only see the steeples and some side walls and then a giant poster of what it is meant to look like from the front.

When we were in the Placa de Sant Felip Neri (a corner of the Gothic area that was not so quiet due to school kids playing in weird checkered smocks - not sure what the deal was with their clothes) a pane of glass fell out one of the top floor windows and narrowly missed piercing a lady´s skull. Jon now walks down the middle of a street. The buildings in this area are generally only four stories high. The guide said there was a law restricting height so that the military could bomb the town if necessary. I am not sure if something was lost in translation there as that seems kind of weird. Another thing we learnt was that the rich owner of a house lived on the first floor so the windows have more decoration. The higher up you go the plainer the facade becomes as the servants lived up the top. In Gaudi´s buildings he went crazy with the roof designs as the owners didn´t care what was up there as they never climbed that high - it was where the servants resided.

After the tour, Jon decided that he should get a second opinion regarding his legs so we spent the best part of the day searching for a doctor, then locating the hospital and then going back to the doctor (turned out to be a lot cheaper than the emergency ward). Only, in the end, Jon decided that he didn´t want to pay 58 Euro to see someone who didn´t speak English. So we wait and see what colour Jon´s legs turn out to be tomorrow.

In the evening we went to hear some traditional Spanish music - sounds a bit like a muslim call to prayer set to guitar music to me. Made me quite agitated. We also saw some Flamenco dancing - a bit like a tap dancing frenzy. It must be a serious dance as the lady was scowling the whole time.

Welcome to Catalunya (26.05.08)

My backpack eventually came into view on the luggage carosel - phew. Was a bit worried for a while there. I haven´t heard anything good about Heathrow so I was half expecting to hear that my bag had been transferred to Cuba.

Our hostel here is ok. It is a bit of a shock coming from the last joint. I am not sure what I was expecting as I have never bunked with strangers before. We have really come back down to earth with a thud. As yet I am to see any evidence of why this place has been continuously voted one of the top ten hostels world wide on hostel world. I think they have rigged the votes although it does have hot water.

Once we had freshened up we went for a walk to get our bearings. It turned out to be a hike! We got lost and couldn´t find La Rambla which is only 10 minutes from where we are staying. It is pretty hard to miss stretching for a few kilometres from Place de Catalunya (a big square) all the way to the harbor. A few thousand people walk up and down it day and night. I don´t think anyone here works. The population of Barcelona seems to be out strolling La Rambla, eating tappas or paella or drinking sangrita. There are street performers everywhere you look who will only move if you give them a euro. I quite like it when they are perfectly still. There are also pet shops on the promenade selling squirills, turtles and tiny hamsters that I swear were mice but the sign said otherwise. When we did eventually stumble on La Rambla it was 1.5 hours later and we were stuffed.

I think we walked approximately 10km around and around and around absorbing the vibrant atmosphere and amazing architecture. I found it very frustrating that there was minimal signage to tell you the history of things. I need a guide book. By the time we got back to the hostel we could barely walk we were so tired. Jon´s legs had swollen and turned red. I think he is getting old!

Onwards and Upwards – to Spain (25.05.08)

We were going to do a township tour this morning but have cancelled due to the xenophobic riots that have spread to the shanty towns of the Cape. Thought it was best to play it safe rather than risk being set on fire (the picture of the Mosambique guy alight has been on the front page of newspapers around the world apparently). Our wine tour guide said we should not go.

Hence, a lazy day checking out, paying bills, using the net, visiting the post office (need to get those souvenirs back) and hopefully a massage. Tonight a fun plane trip to London – arrive 6am and then fly to Barcelona. Estimated time of arrival 2pm tomorrow.

Wine Tasting (24.05.08)

Today is our last day with Dave and Michelle. We spent it on a wine tour. Visiting Winelands (that is what the brochure called it dad – not a spelling mistake) of the Cape is apparently something one must do when holidaying here. It probably helps to like wine.

It was quite cloudy in the morning so you couldn’t really see the mountains that me the landscape so picturesque. The Hugonoughts escaping France where given land here by the Dutch and told to utilise their grape growing skills. We can testify that they succeeded. It was really interesting to see old Dutch farmhouses with grape vines growing and mountains towering overhead. This is not a scene you see in Holland. The wineries we visited were KWV in Paarl (Dutch for pearl after a mountain that looks like a black pearl after rain. We wouldn’t know – couldn’t see the mountain through the fog, nor had it rained), L’Ormarine in the Franschenoek Valley, Bracksberg and Vrede En Lust (Peace and Passion).

At 9.00pm we bade farewell to Dave, Michelle, Nick and Lucretia. Now Jon and I are all on our own (we will have to actually talk to each other) about to embark on the next stage of our journey.

The Point Where Two Oceans Meet (23.05.08)

Off to Robben Island (Dutch for seal) in the morning. This island lies about 12km off the coast of Cape Town. Once upon a time is was a leper colony (it currently has one of the world’s largest penguin colonies) although it is arguably best known as the place where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 28 years (or something like that according to Jon). We saw his cell and the mat he slept on (appalling conditions) and the cave in the quarry where the political prisoners got together to educate each other and put together the basis of the post apartheid constitution. One of our tour guides was an ex-political prisoner from the same era as Mandela; imprisoned for terrorism (according to him he was a freedom fighter, apparently vastly different), a self proclaimed socialist (although came across as quite communist) and very militant. He shouted rather than spoke, was barely comprehensible and largely spouted off political rhetoric. This annoying American lady (it is always the Americans) kept asking him questions. He would yell back answers that completely missed the point. Her husband told her to shut up much to our relief.

Michelle’s friends’ parents Willem and Margriet picked us up in the arvo and took us to Hout Bay for lunch (a favourite pirate haunt a while back). Seafood over here is sooo cheap as is good wine. Afterwards I suggested we go to the Cape of Good Hope if we were close. A local told us it was only 20 minutes away – they lied. Try an hour and a half. We arrived at 5pm and they shut the exit gates at sundown (6pm). It was a race to drive and then climb to the lighthouse, take pics, run back downhill and then make it back to the exit before the sun went down. I have never climbed up hundreds of steps in my life. I nearly died despite my thousand step training in Australia (I went twice). I don’t know how Jon and I are going to survive Machu Picchu.

The view from the light house was spectacular (our photos really don’t do it justice – mine especially as I had the settings all wrong and everything is pixelated). The Cape of Good Hope is located at the junction of two of the earth’s most contrasting water masses – the cold Benguela current on the West Coast and the warm Agulhas current on the East Coast. It is where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet (well not quite but near enough).

Apparently there are zebras there but naturally I didn’t see them. I did spot an ostrich – not so exciting.

On the way back Michelle, Margriet and I got lost (we were in two cars) and ended up in a dodgy looking suburb. I got a bit scared when a crazy looking guy and a guy started wandering over with a pipe in his hands. We got out of there pretty fast.

Cape Town (22.05.08)

We are staying on the waterfront at the Victoria and Alfred hotel. The location and rooms are fantastic but you expect that from a 4 star hotel. Jon and I are getting used to living the high life. We will be brought back down to earth shortly when we bunk with 6 others in Barcelona.

None of us could agree on what to do on Thursday. In the end we got on one of those hop on, hop off buses that takes you to the sights of Cape Town. Jon and I left the others to go to Green Square markets (African craft markets). We felt completely safe and were not sure what the others were on about. We have since found out tourists are advised to not go there at the moment due to the xenophobic riots happening. Lots of foreign Africans have stalls at the markets. I finally succumbed and bought some African artefacts. I hope customs likes them - the wood really is nice. Now we just have to figure out how to get them back. They don’t fit in our backpacks.

Next drop off point – the Castle of Good Hope (oldest building in Cape Town). This is an old Dutch fort built between 1666 and 1679 on reclaimed land - what the Dutch do best. It was not hugely exciting but is an important part of Cape Town’s history so in that sense worth visiting. There was lots of VOC (Dutch East Indies Company) china on display – mum would be drooling.

Then on to Table Mountain (running late by this stage so were forced to catch taxi back to hotel). The views from the top are spectacular, mountains all around and views of Cape Town and the oceans beyond. It is about 1km high and you have to take a cable car up. Sometimes it is too windy so they don’t operate, other times too cloudy so you don’t see anything. The weather here is very unpredictable so we were lucky here wasn’t a cloud in sight. In the olden days the cable cars only fitted a couple of people in them and were weighted down with sandbags to reduce the swing. Queues could be up to ten hours long in summer. Thankfully things are different now: 30 odd people jammed in and hoisted up in a rotating capsule. Thank goodness it didn’t breakdown.

The vegetation up the top reminded us of Cradle Mountain. A lady tried to convince us that this oversized rat thing called a Dassie was somehow related to elephants. I’m not convinced. However, the brochure is in agreement with her stating it is the closest relative to the African elephant. Something to do with its feet.

Dinner on the waterfront. With all the seafood and famous steak restaurants around we chose Greek.

A Week in Mosambique (15.05.08 – 21.05.08)

Did not sleep one week (sorry, meant a wink) at the casino due to oversized pillows and a raging nightclub across the road. It was so loud I could hear everyone singing the Greece Mega Mix and La Bamba at 1.30m in the morning and I had ear plugs in! I rang reception in the early hours of the morning to complain. They could offer us a smoking room but considering we were getting up in 4 hours we didn't bother moving. The worst thing was we only got 10% discount after complaining. It was the biggest waste of $200.

At the airport I was grumpy from being soooo tired. I therefore did not appreciate it when the shopkeeper complained over and over again when I asked her to repack the alcohol we bought into boxes rather than plastic bags. There was no one behind us waiting so I didn't see what her problem was but she didn't stop muttering under her breath and even told us she was bored with serving us and wanted new customers – more like no customers (some people are very lazy)! I snapped and told her “Well I am sorry but it is your job so stop complaining and just do it!” (or something to that effect) and stormed off leaving Jon to deal with her. She was anything but happy with me.

From the air it looks like Mosambique is mostly scrub inland with what appears to be numerous lakes. Sand and palm trees are along the coast. There is virtually no grass to be seen anywhere, at least from what I can see. The local culture is a mixture of Arabic, African and Portuguese. Most people live on the beach making their living from the ocean.

We are staying in a place called Moza Dev (more thatched roof glorified huts) right on the beach front in Vilanculos. Vilanculos is approximately 700km north of Maputo (the capital) and is known as the gateway to the romantic islands of Bazaruto (a big islandwe can see from our hut). The majority of locals live in small single room thatched huts (easier and cheaper to rebuild after cyclones plus they are very poor). Those who have cement houses keep their corrugated iron roofs from blowing off by placing bricks and rocks on top and whatever else they can find to add weight. I have seen a singer sewing machine on top of one house.

Vilanculos is not very touristy yet (it is also not tourist season). I don't think Mosambique in general is as the civil war only finished a decade or so ago and it yet to re-establish itself. We have been advised not to go off the beaten track due to land mines, also, the roads are horrendous (mostly sand so you really need a four wheel drive to get around and lots of patience). Things such as food is reasonably expensive as it takes so long to get in due to the roads. Petrol is also something ridiculous like $8 liter. I get the impression that the locals are not too excited to see white people in their village. They are not rude but they are not overly friendly. Children will wave and say hello but few adults will respond to you. I can't really blame them. They probably think we are like the managers of the place we are staying at who treat their staff like they are beneath them (the guy had two pending court cases against him for abuse of staff). The fat owner is no better. I almost cried at the way he spoke to the staff who were helping us on the boat one of the days we were here. I don't understand these peoples' mentality.

There is not much to do here so we are forced to relax – not something I generally do on holidays but since we have five months of sight seeing ahead of us I'll manage. Really the only things to do here are fishing, island hopping, scuba diving and snorkeling. It gets dark here at 5pm so there is nothing to do in the late afternoon except drink and play Canasta or go to bed. We have been having some alarmingly early nights. However, in our defence, there is a roster that needs its body clock retrained as it goes off on the hour from about 1am onwards. I am ready to ring its neck. That wouldn't solve much though as the locals don't seem to sleep here. I can hear music blaring (not quite as bad as at the Monte Casino) in the wee hours of the morning and people chatting as they get ready to fish before the break of dawn. The other morning someone was chain sawing something at about 5.30am. We only get electricity for a few hours in the morning and from about 4 or 5pm until 10pm. The generator is rather noisy so I am glad our hut is furtherest away from it. However the noise does cover the incessant dashes to the toilet everyone seems to make. The internet – I don't think it exists in Vilanculous.

On the Friday we went for a boat ride to one of the local islands – Margaruque. It was a bit of a fiasco. The boys went first and we were supposed to go half an hour later. So at 7.30am we waded out about a km out to sea (the tide was obviously out) and wait for the boat... no sign. We sat in the broken boat and ate very dry Portugese bread rolls. The boat must have arrived well over an hour later. Don't ask me why we didn't go back to shore - I still don't know the answer.

The romantic breakfast we were supposed to have on a deserted island turned out to be lunch on an inhabited island. However the island was beautiful with crystal clear water that was warm. There were also dolphins swimming close to shore. Meanwhile the boys went deep sea fishing which involved everyone except Dave vomiting over the edge of the boat for an afternoon. That night we ate fish – probably caught from all the burley provided!

Saturday = relaxing plus many rounds of Canasta. That night after a few gin and tonics we had a dance party around the ute. Lots of fun dancing to South African songs with Dave, Michelle, Lucretia and even Gloria, Annalize, Heinrich and his sister and her partner.

Sunday = more relaxing. Jon and I thought we would check out the local Roman Catholic Church as it was recommended in the local tourist office as one of the 10 things to do here. We tried to sit at the back but they moved us to the front barring our escape plan. No one wanted to sit next to us and did there best to avoid us all cramming on to the row in front. We didn't understand a word of it except Amen and Hallelujah. The singing was great (the reason we went) as were the drums they played. I think at the end they may have wanted us to say something at the end or go out the front as they all looked at us but we had no idea what they wanted. It was a strange but interesting experience and I am glad we went but one hour of incomprehension instead of one and a half would have been more preferable.

Monday = another boating fiasco. We were up at 6am ready to go. We waded out to the boat and loaded it up with tables, bbqs umbrellas etc. All aboard and then... the engine wouldn't start. Meanwhile the anchor is not down and we are drifting out to sea. An hour or more passes by before the send a rescue party in the good boat (the one that should have been given to us in the first place) come to get us. We then decide, despite the rain clouds in the distance, to continue on our doomed voyage in the good boat (it has now been offered to us).

First stop snorkeling at 2 mile reef which we were told was near land. The waves we went over to get there nearly threw Michelle overboard. Everyone is holding on for dear life screaming except for me. I was laughing my head off thinking this was the best fun ever. There is no sight of land when we arrive and the waves are huge. Most people refuse to go in due to the size of the waves (my reasoning is sharks) so Jon was called back to the boat (he jumped straight overboard as soon as we arrived) and we head off to our next destination – Pansy Island.

Pansy Island is really a sand bank that is only exposed some times. It gets it name from these amazing shells that have flowers on them and are supposedly found only there. We were all excited and started collecting handfuls of them. The the rainclouds came. There was a mad dash to put the beach umbrellas up which we huddled under until the first shower passed. Then right after we dished up brunch the rain decided to return so we were all dripping wet under umbrellas eating soggy food. All you could do was laugh and chase your towels as they blew away. Ours is in the ocean somewhere. Luckily it was only the bath towel we took from our room. After that we called it a day.

Tuesday, our last full day in Mosambique was again spent doing not much. in the morning we went to the local markets which were a maze of hap hassardly put together stalls forming tiny alleyways. You had to continually watch where you were going or you might slice your head off on some corrugated iron. At the same time you had to watch where you placed your feet or you could step in some sludge which you may be best off not knowing what it is or worse yet you could fall down a hole. The markets didn't sell much but they did have beautiful reams of bartik material that I loved but have no need for so I practiced self control. Michelle did not and came out with arms laden with goods. Now I see why their suitcases are so big! That afternoon we walked along the beach to a Portugese restaurant/ bar where we ate some delicious Portugese finger food and then rolled ourselves out of there. I have a new drink of choice – Caiprinha (rum, brown sugar and limes). Yum, yum. We tried to take photos of the locals coming in with their fish but they did not appreciate it and even chased us away at one point when we asked them if they would mind.

Today is Wednesday and we are going to be spending most of our time in airports. Tonight if all goes well we will be in Cape Town. Our journey in Africa is almost at a end.

Elephant Valley Lodge Botswana

Last night I took two fernergan at Jon's insistence (I have a nasty looking rash at the top of my chest like I did in Greece only it is worse – quite repulsive really). Consequently I feel doped today and can barely stay awake sleeping through most of the morning boat cruise. Once again Jon keeps over medicating me. You think a nurse would get it right. I did wake up to see a pod of hippos. I also got a good view of a lion drinking from the river. Pretty cool if you ignore the five other boats and three jeeps worth of tourists snapping away.

You could hear elephants trumpeting for most of the night. In fact I didn't sleep too well as the animals were making a racket. We even heard a lion that sounded way too close for comfort (saw the paw print on the dirt road nearby in the morning). Michelle got to sleep by convincing herself it was the noise of elephants snoring! It sounded more like evil purring.

On our last full day in Botswana we went for a morning drive but didn't see much. I think all the animals were asleep. However we did get really close to some hippos wallowing in the shallows – cameras were flashing. Still no sign of zebras (it is not dry enough yet). I have seen elephants standing, sleeping, playing, in the water, crossing the water, by the road, charging, dead and putrifying, in the daytime and in the night time... but no sign of a zebra. I can't believe I will leave Africa without seeing one. I guess there is always Melbourne Zoo. We also haven't seen a rhino but apparently according to our guide Dan the only chance of seeing one of them is if they are a refugee rhino fleeing Mugabe!

We left for the Zambian border at 9am Wednesday morning. Everything went smoothly this time round. We drove along the Zimbabwe border without a hiccup. There was even a bus waiting for us on the Zambian side of the river. We read in the Zambian newspaper that the nurse ratio here is 50 to 1 – crazy! marketing jobs also pay a great sum of $1000 Aus a year. Can't see Jon and me moving to Zambia somehow.

Tonight we stay at the Monte Casino in J'burg where all the restaurants and shops have been constructed to look like they are in Italy. Pretty cool even if gimmicky. Much better than Crown in my opinion.

We have been in four countries in one day (if you count Jon's arm hanging out the car as being in Zimbabwe).

Update: the closet I have now been to a Zebra is the ottoman variety available at the casino. They come complete with mane and tail in tact and look pretty cool if you are not into animal rights. Jon isn't - he wants one.


Elephant Drama (Final Day)

The highlight of the day was the impromptu elephant theater performed for us over dinner between main course and desert. The stage was the bore-fed water hole adjacent to and not more than 20 meters from our open air sandy floor restaurant around a fire (brie) with our cheerful Botswan waiter Oscar. Act one was rather par say and consisted of merely elephants drinking from and playing in the Water-hole , flicking up mud and blowing water on themselves - barely entertaining enough to distract us from our speculation re “what was for desert tonight?” and “which red-wine should we drink next?” Act one finished with an attention grabbing hook that saw us asking Oscar to stop pouring our wine and step out of the way so we didn't miss a second of the titillating show – a baby elephant had fallen into the water-hole, was effectively bogged in the mud and couldn't get out.

Act two. Rapidly the elephants realized the gravity of the situation. Panic spread through their ranks evidenced by trumpeting and general disorder with various of the larger animals pushing each other out of the way individually trying to drag the youngster from the bog using their trunks. However they seemed to quickly recall their “water-safe” training. No more than 60 seconds after the initial incident the elephants composed themselves, lined up together (the mother and aunts) and collectively used their trunks to rescue the babe – eventually dragging him from the bog and rescuing him from certain death. There was trumpeting again as the group celebrated the liberation of their child, their brother and their nephew.

Act three started quietly allowing us time again for Oscar to fill our wine glasses, critique the elephant drama and again speculate about desert. Oscar apologized that the four male lions that had stalked our camp last night had not returned to the water hole. He said that despite the numerous emailed invitations he had sent them, they would not return while the elephants were drinking, “for all the animals fear none more than the elephant”. As Oscar said “elephant” there came over the hole a eerie silence followed by the panic-stricken warning call of the baboon. This was followed by reciprocal baboon calls warning of the pending danger. The elephants, understanding both the nature and the direction of the danger, lined up in parallel with tusks directed to the danger and smaller animals cowering under in the shadow of the larger beasts. Surly the baboons call was not in vain for several large adolescent male lions were scouting for water and approached from the far side of the drinking hole. Fearing the elephants they passed at a good distance presumably preferring to sleep thirsty than risk a confrontation with elephants.

On Safari in Botswana (11.05.08 - 14.05.08)

As you will have noticed we have had some time to upload pics of our adventures. I have spent all afternoon in the reception of our hotel doing this so I will finish updating our blog later as I want to join Jon, Dave and Michelle at the bar. I can also hear what sounds like lions roaring in the distance (although it could be elephants they sound surprisingly similar to the untrained ear) so I want to go and have a look.

Ok, finally updated the blog. Be warned it is an essay...

Our transfer to Botswana was an hour and a half late. I don't like getting up before 7am for no reason. The van took us to the border crossing at a point in the Zambezi river. I am not sure how we managed to float across in the tin can with nine of us + three extras and all our luggage, including Dave and Michelle's giant suitcases (you have never seen anything like them, they would fit a baby elephant in them and then some. I have not seen Michelle wear the same clothes twice yet and she changes about three times a day).

On the other side a jeep (sorry I stand corrected, Jon said it was a Land Crusier and they are apparently definately not the same thing) picked us up and took us to the Elephant Valley Lodge. This place is amazing. It is in the middle of the bush and we are staying in luxury tents with electric fencing around the compound to keep elephants and other unwanted animals out. Our shower in the tent is a tree they have stuck taps to. There is free internet and laundry and chocolates on the pillows every night – what luxury compared to Zambia. Jon and I aren't used to this. I told him not to get used to it. After Africa we are sharing dorm rooms – there wont be chocolates and turned down sheets! Even better yet there were salads and vegetables galore. I think I am in African heaven.

This place is aptly named. On the way we saw elephants on the side of the road. At the lodge just after we arrived we went down to the viewing area near the water hole and saw a herd of elephants applying suncream to themselves (spraying mud onto their backs as a skin protectant). They look like they are moving in slow motion. It is hard to believe animals so big can be so graceful.

At this place you go on a safari in the morning and in the evening each day. The first afternoon we drove to Chobe in the Land Cruiser. We saw so many animals up close – heaps more elephants, giraffes necking (literally), baboons in their hundreds, kudu, impala all different types of boks, pumbas (wart hogs), buffalo and lions feeding off the most vile smelling dead elephant. There was lots of dry retching involved! The sunset was awesome. We saw a line of elephants crossing the water trunks linked around the tail in front with the sun setting behind – post card stuff right before our eyes. Wait for it... I am now actually glad Jon bought an SLR. Although it hasn't stopped him trying to take over my camera too!

On the way back to the camp in the dark we literally became human windshields. Bugs everywhere (and they are really big over here). No one spoke or they would cop a mouthful of insects.

Dinner was great too. Tables and candlelight around the boma/ briie (like a bon fire) overlooking the waterhole where elephants were having their night cap. I can't wait to hear the animal sounds while I sleep, just as long as I don't have to use the whistle next to my bed. I don't want any spitting cobras (there was one here yesterday) of black mambas (I wish Jon hadn't told me about them) in my tent.

Mukuni Village (10.05.08)

Mukuni Village is a traditional village about 12km past the falls out in the scrub. We took a very rough four wheel drive track to get there. I was thinking the taxi might die in the middle of nowhere for us to become lion feed. It turns out we didn't need to go down this route, the taxi driver was just avoiding the cops on the main road. His friend transporting Dave, Nick and Lecrecia wasn't registered.

Over 7000 people live in Mukuni Village in traditional mud huts with thatched roofs. This is the kind of place I really wanted to see - much better than the cultural village where their leopard skin costumes were made from polyester. David Livingstone also visited here, so we are following his footsteps.

The village is ruled over by two chiefs - one male and one female (brother and sister). If the tribal council want to dispose of them they have to wait until they die or poision them. The last chief to be killed off was quite a while back. He was poisioned and just to make sure he didn't recover they buried him alive - Nice!

Michelle gave some kids we photographed a vicks throat losanger (they actually liked them) and suddenly we were surrounded by swarms of children all wanting lollies. Michelle made Dave give one kid $10US to go and buy two big packets of sweets from the shop. I am sure they didn't cost that much as I saw kids afterwards running around with fists full of kwachas (the local currency)! When he returned it was a feeding frenzy. Apparently there are about 1000 kids in the village so I was hoping word wouldn't spread too fast. It could have been very costly! After that every time I wanted to take a pic a kid ran into the frame and started posing.

Off on a river safari in the late arvo. I am so glad we coughed up $130US to do this as it was fantastic - plus it had unlimited booze! Because the boat was small we could get up close to the river bank and see the animals really well. We saw a herd of elephants - 5 in total including a little baby. We also saw lots of hippos including one extremely huge and angry one that looked at us with eyes full of rage and came charging towards the boat. Hippos are the biggest killer of humans over here so we got out of there pretty quick. There were more views of the mighty river including the start of the rapids that lead you all the way to the edge and beyond the falls. Thankfully we didn't go too far down them. Thoroughly enjoyable!

Victoria Falls (09.05.08)

Went to see the amazing Victoria Falls today. When we arrived we had to hire rain ponchos. I was going to wear my spray jacket until I saw people returning drenched. The clever tourists wore bathers - including Dave.

I have never seen anything like these waterfalls in my life - nothing compares to date. This is not surprising as they are one of the 7 wonders of the world! They are around 1.8km wide, although we only saw from the ground around one third of them. The others went on micro flights to see the rest from the air. If we were here longer I would consider working up the courage. Water just thunders over the top. It is sooo loud and spray goes everywhere, hence the rain coats. We walked along a slippery path that was way too close to the edge for my liking. The safety standards were non existant and I found myself wondering how many people topple over the edge each year. Jon naturally wanted to take a million photos right at the edge of the gorge opposite the falls. I felt sick. The most scarey part was walking across the bridge suspended way above the cascade. We have some amazing photos which we will attempt to upload when it doesn't cost $1 a minute to access the net. It is very expensive here.

After we had walked around the falls we went down to the boiling pot - the base where 3 or 4 different parts of the falls meet. This involved climbing over very slippery rocks which I was not too good at, According to Jon I am as sure footed as a one legged mountain goat! Then on to the photographers trail. As if Jon didn't have enough pics already! The view was spectacular though and you could spot the Zimbabwe refugees trying to cross over through a hole in the fence. You could also see some crazy people bundgy jumping off the bridge that connects Zambia to Zimbabwe. There were also hundreds of monkeys around the place which Jon naturally had to pull out his SLR for and go about 2 feet away from. I thought he had a zoom lense but obviously that is not good enough. I kept thinking about our lack of rabies shots.

This place is well worth coming to see. It is weird to think there is such an amazing sight right out here in the middle of no where.