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Cape to Cardiff

a travel blog by MarcusInAfrica


This is the story of one boy's overland journey back to Wales from Cape Town, using only public transport and no areoplanes!
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How Not to Use a Leatherman

Vilankulo, Mozambique


There comes a time when you are travelling in Africa that you begin to crave certain items and food types that are not as readily available as you may like. After close to seven weeks on the road my first craving arrived, yet had I known the trouble acquiring it would lead to I think I may have just left it as a craving.

It started out as an innocent pizza run, it ended with a 4x4 stuck on the beach and a security guard nearly being stabbed. I should have seen that the omens were bad right from the start, with both delivery drivers at the pizza place off sick, but instead I let my stomach take control and the eternal quest for a pizza was on, aided by a couple of jolly nice public school chaps from England.

George, who lives in Tanzania, was happy for John, who lives in Bermuda, to drive me to get the pizza in his 4x4, which sounded like a fool proof plan. Wrong. For some inexplicable reason the lights on the truck failed the moment we got back in with a nice warm pizza. This being Africa we didn't think too much off it, after all most cars in Africa run below the required standard of an M.O.T.

Five minutes later, navigating our way down dirt tracks and through small villages the lack of lights started to become quite a problem, so much so we missed the turning we wanted and before we knew it we were on the beach - stuck in sand. After a few choice expletives from both of us John volunteered to run the last few kilometres and fetch George who would be able to help us out of this, leaving me to eat my pizza on the beach.

As an extra safety precaution, as it clearly says in all backpackers and guide books to avoid being on unlit beaches at night, we locked the car whilst I stood outside eating - this way if anybody came to steal the car it would be locked and John would have the keys. It wasn't quite how I had envisioned eating my pizza, by moonlight on a desolate stretch of beach, but nonetheless I was going to enjoy it.

I was a good three slices in when I saw a figure approaching from the dark, which put me on alert. My mind went from that of a happy pizza eater to a knife wielding killer. Armed with my leatherman I thought if this guy thinks he can just stroll over here and attempt to steal the car he will have to fight me for it, and so I began to advance, slowly, towards him.

My pulse was racing and my hand gripping the knife tight, the figure getting closer, his features starting to become a little more distinguished so that I could almost see the face of my would-be attacker. This was it, I was going to have to stab this man else he would surely steal George's car, and given it was my desire for pizza that had lead to this situation I felt a duty to protect the car.

With the distance between myself and said attacker down to seven metres, and me ready to take a few more steps before lunging in with a killer blow, I suddenly noticed a friendly smile on his face. Another step forward and, with the help of the moonlight, I notice a badge on his shirt that read 'GAC Security'. Suddenly I felt rather stupid, knife still at the ready, as this wasn't an attacker, rather the local security guard seeing if he could help us out of the predicament we had found ourselves in.

Needless to say I hastily tried to conceal the knife, whilst mumbling something about the beach being a dangerous place and it's better to be safe than sorry. Thankfully the security guard didn't realise I was two seconds away from stabbing him, and was more than happy to wait by the car with me until George and John returned to rescue the truck from the beaches clutches.

When Maddie brought me the leatherman I am sure she thought it would be useful in many different ways, but I am almost certain she never once thought, 'this will be perfect for Marcus to stab security guards with on the beach in Mozambique'. It's safe to say that from now on I will be using the leatherman for its many intended uses, of which stabbing people is not one.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on April 9, 2009 from Vilankulo, Mozambique
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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The High Life in Vilankulo

Vilankulo, Mozambique



Aside from almost killing a security guard my first few days in Vilanculos were pretty uneventful, that said I did have the pleasure of helping Eusabio build his piroque. However, the arrival of Mum and Dad, along with their good friends Sue and Peet, signaled the start of some rather special adventures - not to mention a wedding (more of that in the next blog).

I was expecting to be staying with Sue and Peet, and then booking various activities to get the full experience in Vilanculos. Yet when I arrived at the airport to meet everyone I knew this would be quite a special week. I had been told to arrive at the airport at 11:30, which I did despite being babolas (hung over), only to discover there were no scheduled flights due to arrive until 15:30. There was however a private flight landing at 11:30 - somehow Mum had failed to inform me Peet had his own plane!

From that moment on I knew the week ahead would be quite a special one, and on arriving at Sue and Peet's house I was blown away - most people don't even have a first house like this, let alone a holiday house in Mozambique. The views were simply breathtaking, and rather than try and describe them I will let the pictures tell the story here.

Peet's big passion is fishing, a passion he has indulged in for some forty years now, and the fishing in Vilanculos is very good to say the least. Our first attempt was cut short by an unexpected swell of close to five metres, although all was not lost, as this aborted fishing trip started the process of arranging Mum and Dad's wedding (of which the full story will follow in the next blog).

Day two on the fishing front was, in mine and Dad's eyes at least, a huge success - although Peet and Nico said they had experienced hundreds of better days. Still, Dad and I both caught some nice fish, including a double catch of Rock Cod each, a small Tuna and a King Mackerel. Technically we were not meant to keep the Rock Cod, as they were caught inside the Vilanculos National Park, but seeing as there was nobody to prevent us doing so we took them home for dinner. This is, without doubt, the nicest fish I have ever eaten and I recommend that everyone catches an illegal Rock Cod and eats it.

Having spent the best part of six weeks sleeping in dorms and living on a tight budget it was a pleasure to have a little bit of luxury again - with luxury being my own room and hot water, as well as staff to do the cooking, washing and anything else I happened to need doing. I have to say, whilst this was a privilege it was not one I would want everyday. As odd is this may sound to some people I actually take great pleasure in doing everything myself, and knowing I am self-sufficient, rather than coming to expect people to do things for me.

The fishing and wedding aside the week was spent in a very relaxed state of mind, so much so that most days started with a gin and tonic after breakfast and consisted of plenty of reading, lounging around, walks on the beach and just generally recharging the batteries, which is just what the doctor ordered. Before bringing this entry to an end I must just once again say a huge thank you to Sue and Peet for their incredible hospitality. That's all for now, join me for a wedding in paradise in the next blog.



permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on April 14, 2009 from Vilankulo, Mozambique
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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A Wedding in Paradise

Vilankulo, Mozambique


If someone had, at the start of this trip, told me I would be attending my parents wedding in Vilanculos I would have quite literally laughed at them. But, thirteen years after the initial proposal, Mum and Dad finally got married at North Point on Benguerra Island.

It had started as a normal day, Peet, Dad and myself were off fishing whilst Mum and Sue were going to spend the day relaxing at North Point - which for the record is one of the most perfect beaches in the world. All was going to plan until the swell picked up to around five metres and our fishing plans were scuppered, prompting a return to North Point for a few rum and cokes whilst we made a new plan for the day.

That plan was to take the boat to Benguerra Lodge and have a drink there before heading back to mainland. Only one drink lead to two, and two drinks lead to a wedding being planned. As is, or should I now say was, often the case the topic of why Mum and Dad weren't married came up over drinks, which is not unusual. What was unusual was Mum didn't try and change the subject, but rather made a pact with me that if I could find a priest she would get married whilst in Mozambique.

Not one to waste time no sooner had she shaken my hand than I was up and off to get Mum and Dad married, with a little help from Benguerra Lodge. Two days later and we were wading out towards Peet's boat heading back to Benguerra Island for Mum and Dad's wedding - a day I know Dad had been longing for for many years.

After a drinks reception at Benguerra Lodge it was on to North Point where the wedding chapel had been prepared, in a very African style. With the English speaking minister being on holiday we had to settle for a minister who only spoke Portuguese, which meant a good friend of Sue and Peet's came along to translate so we would all understand.

The wedding itself was simple yet beautiful, and from my point of view it was a very special day to finally see two people, so clearly in love, uniting their relationship in matrimony. Not that I have never seen our family as anything but that, but with Mum and Dad finally getting married it also united us as a complete family. With the vows completed, Mum and Dad were officially husband and wife, a day I think most of us didn't think we would see!

After enjoying the sunset and a camp fire it was time to depart, leaving Mum and Dad at the Lodge for the night, whilst the rest of the wedding party braved the journey back home in Peet's boat. It was interesting to say the least, dark skies, choppy waters, merry (to say the least) passengers and a skipper who only knew one speed - flat out.

Whilst it was not something Mum and Dad had planned on doing whilst in Mozambique their wedding was a special day, one that they will never forget, and certainly one I will never forget. So all that is left to say is, congratulations Mum and Dad.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on April 18, 2009 from Vilankulo, Mozambique
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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A Welcome Return To South Africa

Nelspruit, South Africa


I had initially planned to head north towards Zambia from Vilanculos, that was until Mum and Dad had invited me to travel through Botswana with them and Alena and I had decided we would spend a week together in and around the Kruger Park and Blyde River Canyon area.

Having met Alena in Tofo, where we spent a week together, it was clear there was a special connection between us and thus we decided before she went back to Germany, and I continued on with my travels, we had to spend another week together. A week that saw us have an amazing time exploring and two of the best days ever in the Kruger Park.

The week started in Nelspruit, which is not the most inspiring of towns, but gave us the perfect base to rent a car from and plan the next step of our trip. The road took us towards Hazyview, where we camped for two nights, but not before stopping off at Mac Mac Pools for a rather refreshing swim. Having stayed in a hotel the first few nights it was nice to sleep in a tent, and be able to have a camp fire on arriving in Hazyview.

I must admit that it was Alena's fire-starting skills that enabled us to have fire. My fire-starting ability usually relies on petrol or any other flammable liquid I can find, where as Alena is a touch more gifted when it comes to making fire. However, once the fire was going I had no problems taking it from a small contained camp fire into something that you could burn a witch on.

From our base in Hazyview we took advantage of the natural beauty of the area, taking a mountain bike ride through the forest to an amazing waterfall, where we found a rope swing to amuse ourselves on. It was whilst in Hazyview that I found out Alena had never been to the Kruger Park, and thus the next few days of our trip were planned for us - we would take the car and tent into the park and stay overnight there.

Taking our own car into the Kruger made me realise this is in fact the only way to do the Kruger. Rather than having some mad Steve Irwin wannabe hurtling around at a hundred miles an hour trying to spot an elephant's backside to say he showed you one of the big five, you can in fact take your leisurely time and see so much more of what the park has to offer.

In the two days we were there we saw everything you could want to see, apart from a lion, but our cheetah experience more than made up for that. With the sun set and dark approaching we saw what looked like a lioness cross the road up in front of us, which caused great excitement as we pulled over where we thought she had gone back into the bush. At first we didn't see anything, and then suddenly I realised it was not a lioness we had seen, but a cheetah, and what's more it was sat less than a metre in front of us.

Alena slowly pulled the car forward, so that we were right next to the cheetah, and there we sat for close to a minute whilst the cheetah sat there without a care in the world before getting up and sauntering off. Now I have been lucky to see some great wildlife in my life but never have I been so close to such a revered wild cat - it set my pulse racing and is something I wont forget in a hurry. The only downside was that by this stage of the day the battery on my camera had died, so saldy no pictures for you all to see!

On leaving the park our week was sadly coming towards an end, but not before a trip to the Sudwela Caves, which are the oldest known caves in the world, before heading to Johanesburg. Saying goodbye to Alena at the airport was not easy, especially given how our feelings had grown for each other, but knowing I will see her again on my journey makes things a little easier.

It was at the airport where I met Mum and Dad again and set off for a week in Botswana, of which the story will follow shortly, so join us again at the same time next week for the latest adventures of one boy's story of living the dream in Africa.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on April 28, 2009 from Nelspruit, South Africa
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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The Wild Side Of Botswana

Gweta, Botswana



As a backpacker it is almost impossible to see the true Botswana without being part of an overland tour or having your own 4x4 vehicle. I was lucky enough to have a week in Botswana with Mum and Dad, who had hired a fully kited out truck to get a feel for what they were getting themselves into with purchasing their own back in Wales.

No sooner had we entered Botswana than we opted for the minor road over the main one, which basically meant we were heading north along the banks of the Limpopo River on a dirt track. Whilst I had experienced this sort of road before it was a new concept to Mum and Dad, and thus took a little getting used to, but soon we were up to speed and headed north a happy bunch.

After a gruelling (for Mum and Dad at least) five hours driving it was time to set up camp for the night, and where better to camp than right on the bank of the Limpopo River where one could watch for hippos and crocs to the symphony of Vervet Monkeys playing games in the trees overhead. The truck was kited out with two roof tents, that whilst not small were not exactly big which lead to quite a comical night's sleep - choruses of laughter accompanied every movement Mum and Dad made in the night. Where as I was more than comfortable in my tent Mum and Dad were wedged into theirs like sardines in a tin, and watching Dad, all 6ft6 of him, trying to get out in the morning was simply classic.

Packed and ready for the off our journey took us further north into the Tuli Block where we would be staying at Mashatu Game Reserve for two nights. I have, over the course of my life, been lucky enough to visit some special places in this world but few can match Mashatu and all that went with it. For starters it is southern Africa's largest private game reserve at over 30,000 hectares, and with no perimeter fences you really are in the wild. On top of that main camp is one of the most idyllic places I have stayed, there are not many places in the world you can sit eating your dinner watching an elephant drinking at the water hole.

In our time there we had four game drives, two early morning sunrise drives and two late afternoon sunset drives, and saw more wildlife than you would care to shake a stick at. Given that it is a private reserve there is no need to stick to the tracks, but rather Fish, our personal ranger, got us so close to the animals it was quite surreal at times. When you are sat within ten metres of a wild lion, looking him straight in the eye, you can't help but feel inferior and in awe.

Fish warned us not to make any movements, as this would constitute a challenge to the lion and when you are sat in an open air truck with no doors there is only going to be one winner. If I thought the lion was impressive it faded into near insignificance compared to the leopard we tracked for almost an hour. The leopard is an animal of immense beauty and grace, and given that most sightings are brief this was, even for Fish who has worked at Mashatu for twenty-eight years, a rare treat.

Having tracked it along the dried riverbed we had to make a hasty exit in order to see it stalk two impala back on the open plains. Sadly, for us but not the impala, there was a lack of cover for the leopard to operate with and it was thus unable to attempt a kill. So it was back into the riverbed to watch it climb an almighty Mashatu tree (the tree the reserve is named after) as it hunted for a guinea fowl to snack on. It was here he disappeared into the branches and we left knowing we had experienced something only a handful ever will.

As majestic as seeing the lion and leopard was, being a elephant lover the piece de resistance was without a doubt the vast herds of elephants we had the pleasure of following and observing. In the past I had on a few separate occasions seen a maximum of four elephants together, but here we saw herds of up to fifty, and at one stage had over two hundred walking past us as we stood atop a small hill drinking coffee early in the morning.

At one stage we were parked by a section of the river with a small pool of muddy water, no more than twelve metres from the truck, watching a three day old elephant playing in the mud. It was comical, cute and magical all at once and quite honestly I could have spent hours watching the little fella rolling in the mud, struggling to find his feet and working out how to use his trunk, which was clearly still something of a mystery to him.

It is one thing to see these animals on television documentaries, or even in wildlife parks, but to come face-to-face with them in their own environment is quite something. Here they are in charge, this is their turf and they will defend it according to their natural instinct, which basically means attacking to kill if they feel threatened or challenged in any way.

Given the time we had here it was a wrench to leave, but safe to say I will at some stage in my life be going back to Mashatu, the land where the giants walk, the land where you can be at one with these giants, a land where dreams can come true.




permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 5, 2009 from Gweta, Botswana
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Nothing To Do In Kubu

Gweta, Botswana



After two days of pure amazement at Mashatu it was only right we spent a few days doing nothing but reflecting on what we had just experienced, and relaxing in every sense of the word. And where better to do that than at Kubu Island in the middle of the Sowa Pans.

Having stocked up on enough food, water and alcohol to last two days we set off towards Lethlakane, from where it is possible to drive out onto Sowa Pan. Sowa Pan is like nothing I have experienced before. For starters there is no electricity, no running water, no houses, nothing but vast stretches of moon-like scenery as far as the eye can see. As we drove towards Kubu Island, which is actually only an island in the true sense of the word during the rainy season, the odd clumps of grass appeared, finally giving way to a small cluster of trees on the horizon.

The trees began to grow in stature, until we were only a few kilometres away and suddenly all I could see was giant Baobab trees everywhere set among vast boulders. This was Kubu Island, a place where one can forget they are on planet earth and in fact forget that anybody else is alive apart from themselves. In the two days we spent there, apart from two park rangers who camp there, we saw one other family, who left on our first morning leaving us in this little piece of paradise alone - or at least that's what I thought.

Alena had inspired me to downgrade from dorms to a tent and thus I got myself one before we crossed the border into Botswana, and Kubu gave me the first chance to use it. With Mum and Dad safely tucked up in a their own roof tents I was down on the ground in my new home, and it didn't take long before I had my first visitor, albeit a rather unexpected one.

I had drifted off to sleep, with the doors opened so only a mosquito mesh separated me from the outside world, only to be awoken by a sniffing and scratching at the edge of my tent. I thought it would be some small animal having an inquisitive look around our campsite, so it was without a second thought I poked my head out of the door. It took me all of 0.0009 seconds to retract my head and zip the tent back up. What I thought was a small animal was in fact a brown hyena - not exactly what you want to see in the small hours of the morning with nothing but darkness surrounding you.

A tentative, yet firm, kick against the side of the tent where I spotted the hyena was enough to discourage it and allow me to return to a fitful sleep - funnily enough my thoughts were more concerned with the possibility of further visits from wild animals than with getting a good night's sleep. Upon waking in the morning I couldn't decide if I had just had a bizarre dream or not, that was until I looked around my tent to find a plethora of sizeable paw prints in the sand.

Needless to say the second night's sleep was a little restless, yet despite a few strange noises I thankfully had no further visitors to my tent door. Our time there was spent doing little more than reading, sleeping, and reconnecting with nature - something everybody needs to do from time to time. Without a doubt the highlight of every day at Kubu is sunrise, sunset and something I have never seen before - the moon setting.

Given that the pans used to be seabed it is no surprise they are almost perfectly flat, which lends to the most amazing scenes and colours during dawn and dusk. In the morning the sky is lit up in a dark pink long before the sun pokes its nose over the horizon, but when it does shafts of molten orange spew over the earth's surface scorching all that it envelops. Sunset is equally as impressive, with shades of red and pink I have never seen before etching their mark into the sky, a sort of red carpet for the moon to dance along as it takes over the nightshift.

It was whilst sat around the campfire on the first night there that the three of us noticed the moon sinking, heavy under the weight of the night's sky. Closer it came towards the horizon, being forced lower and lower until finally it began to slide out of view as if somebody had it on a string pulling it into their world and away from ours. Soon followed the stars, all sliding as if the canvas they were painted on was melting, everything slowly dripping towards the abyss that lay below.

My lasting memory of Kubu will be the Baobabs at sunrise. I have always said if I was a tree it would be a Baobab, or the upside down tree as they are more affectionately known, and to see them in such brilliant light was a true pleasure. Sadly we only had two days at Kubu, as I could have easily spent four or five there, and in leaving my time with Mum and Dad was all but an end, but not without some truly amazing memories that have enriched my trip yet further.



permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 7, 2009 from Gweta, Botswana
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Following Livingstone's Trail

Livingstone, Zambia



Having finally made my way from Lethlakane, where I said so long to Mum and Dad, to Kasane I was all set to cross the border between Botswana and Zambia, but not before a rather testing night in my tent.

When it rains in Africa it rains, and when that rain is a tropical storm anybody not in a watertight location finds out about it, as I did on this fateful night. Reports of rain heading towards the area were not wrong, and knowing the rain was imminent I decided to settle into my tent before they arrived. No sooner had I zipped up the door than the first smatterings of rain could be heard on the waterproof cover of my tent.

As the rain intensified the rumbles of thunder grew louder, accompanied by constant flashes of lightening, until finally the storm was literally above my head. The combination of the noise of the thunder and the violent streaks of lightening gave me some idea as to what it would be like to be at the heart of a bomb raid, minus the actual bombs that is. With the wind howling my tent was under a major attack from the elements, and as I expected the first leak began at the door.

Four hours of rain later, seven full cups of water caught from the leaks and the storm had passed, giving me the chance to poke my head out and asses the damage. I was greeted by the sight of mud rivers running either side of my tent, leaving me questioning my desire to pack up camp and head to Zambia in a little under six hours time. After a brief sleep I awoke to find the rivers had ceased flowing and the sun was doing its best to fight through the clouds.

This was all the encouragement I needed and before long I was packed up and on my way to the Zambian border - which is one of the wildest, unorganised operations I have ever come across. The fact there is no bridge over the Zambezi, which separates Zambia from Botswana, makes life there very interesting. A ferry goes back and forth all day long, taking one lorry, one car and as many people as can cram onto it, creating chaos every time it docks. Due to only being able to take one lorry at a time there are, on both sides of the river, seemingly endless queues of lorries waiting to cross. Talking to one driver he explained when it's busy he can expect to sit and wait for anywhere between two and three weeks just to cross the river!

Finally in Zambia it was straight to Livingstone, where I was based for a week. The main focus of being here was of course to visit Vic Falls, which was quite an experience, especially given it was the tail end of the rainy season and the level of the river was higher than usual. From my backpackers I could see the mist that is thrown up by the falls, known as 'the smoke that thunders', as it literally looks like the smoke from a massive fire, combined with the sound of the waterfall itself.

After a few days of relaxing in Livingstone, and letting my tent dry out, it was off to the falls - which included a failed attempt to go to Zimbabwe for a day. Despite having been told a fair amount about the falls nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced. As I said the falls throw up great plumes of mist, and due to the high water levels at this time of year they can all but make the falls disappear behind a white veil of water. Due to this when I first got there I couldn't actually see the falls, that was until the wind blew the mist away revealing the most magnificent sight.

I couldn't help but think what Livingstone himself must have thought when he stumbled across the falls - not knowing he was going to find them and just stumbling across them. As far as explorers and travellers go Livingstone is right up there in my list of heroes, one of the real trailblazers in that sense. At 1700m wide and 107m deep the falls are a wonderful force of nature, one that left me realising just how small and insignificant we as a race are in comparison to the natural elements.

With the first sightings of the falls out of the way it was time to cross 'The Knife-edge Bridge', in order to walk down to the far end of the stretch of land that forms the gorge where the falls dump the masses of water that flows over them. It is at the bridge where the mist thrown up is at it's worst, resulting in going from bone dry to saturated in under a second. It made the storm in Botswana seem like a light shower, but unlike in Botswana I was more than happy to be in the middle of it.

Once over the bridge there are two paths, the one that takes you right along the front of the gorge and continues the drenching process, and then a relatively dry one. Obviously I opted for the wet route, reasoning that it couldn't get any worse than the bridge - clearly I was wrong. It went from torrential rain to someone holding a power hose above my head as I walked along, which given the setting gave me a feeling of total freedom as the water washed over me.

I left the falls feeling totally invigorated, if not a little damp, but safe in the knowledge I had seen one of the true wonders of Africa.



permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 8, 2009 from Livingstone, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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A Night To Remember

Livingstone, Zambia


Take a full moon, a cloudless sky, Vic Falls and a sprinkling of stars, mix them all together and what do you get? Quite simply the single most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life - a lunar rainbow.

I had been to the falls a few days before full moon, and at first wasn't sure if I would venture back there again, and given I had the chance to watch my first game of rugby in a long while, I almost didn't go again. But thank god I did, as it was breath-taking, as you can see from the pictures - which I must point out were all taken at night, even though some appear to be during the day.

Armed with a picnic that could have fed the five thousand, seven of us arrived at the falls just in time for sunset, which in itself was a site to behold. The sky burning a crimson red over the falls, the sound of thunder reverberating deep below us, rising up through your feet into the pit of your stomach, whilst all around plumes of mist rise into the air.

Having been told the rainbow first appears at the far end of the falls, where the water escapes into the boiling pot and onwards down the Zambezi, we set off for the furthest point one can walk to. In order to get there you have to be prepared to get wet, very, very wet - the kind of wetness one can only get from having a bath emptied over their head.

But once at the far end of the falls, wet and cold, we caught the first sighting of the rainbow. Suddenly all the talking stopped and thoughts of being cold evaporated as each and everyone of us was completely overcome with what we were seeing. It was a perfectly clear night, not a cloud to be seen, the stars shining proudly and there right in front of us the most perfect rainbow you will ever care to see.

The rainbow comes due to a combination of the endless mist that hangs in the air at the falls and the light of a full moon. Whilst you can't always see every layer of colour perfectly the arc of brilliant light never fades, and when the mist dies down slightly, as it does from time to time, the colours become more prominent. Standing there, with what is like torrential rain (but in fact is just the mist falling) relentlessly beating down on you, the roar of the falls and this mesmeric sight was worth every second of work I put in to save for this trip. These are the experiences you can't put a price on, that will stay with me forever.

With the moon getting higher in the night's sky the arc of the rainbow was constantly changing, and at one stage it was close to creating a full circle of colour. After a while we accepted it was either move and get dry or stay and get a nasty cold, so we moved to the banks of the river just at the edge of the falls. Here we were able to watch the rainbow slowly fade away, because of the angle of the light from the moon.

Eating a picnic on the banks of the Zambezi, whilst watching a lunar rainbow, has to rate as one of the finer dining experiences of my life - never before has a simple sandwich tasted so good as it did here. Sadly the rainbow eventually disappeared, but it will never disappear from my mind.

It was pure luck that I happened to be in Livingstone when there was a full moon, but a word of advice to anybody ever going there in the future, make sure you plan to be there for a full moon so that you can experience the lunar rainbow. It is one of the things you must see before your time in this world is up.



permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 10, 2009 from Livingstone, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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Grub's Up

Livingstone, Zambia


My desire to experience as much African culture as possible lead to one of the more interesting dinners I have eaten, not just on this trip but in my life. Fried vinkubala, or caterpillars to you and me, was not a meal I particularly enjoyed, and it is safe to say I wont be eating them again. But as the old saying says, when in Rome...

I had only gone into the market in Livingstone to purchase a few vegetables, yet came back to my backpackers with an unusual taste in my mouth and half of kilo of dried caterpillars in my bag. You could say I only have myself to blame, as had I just walked past Banyina's stall I would never have brought the damn things, but curiosity got the better of me when I saw a giant dish full of fat grubs.

At first I didn't believe people actually ate them, that was until Banyina - the lovely lady who was selling them - grabbed a handful and started popping them into her mouth like sweets. She offered me one to taste for myself, but as much as I wanted to just grab one and eat it my hand wouldn't do as my brain was telling me - if only I had taken this as a sign I would have eaten spaghetti bolognase for dinner as planned.

Finally, after a few locals had eaten some to prove they were not so bad, I took one and put it straight in my mouth without thinking about it - past experiences had taught me not to think about the weird foods you are eating. At first I thought this isn't so bad, apart from being very dry and crunchy there was no real taste, but then this odd taste filled my mouth leaving me in desperate need for something a lot tastier to eat. Sensing this Banyina handed me a carrot which I began crunching on instantly, much to the delight of my taste buds.

Despite this less than enjoyable experience I thought I may as well buy some and see what they are like cooked, and so I left the market with a bag full of them and a recipe that I was assured would make them a whole lot tastier. Back at the backpackers, and after a few drinks to take my mind off the thought of dinner, I began the cooking process.

Banyina Mutinta's Caterpillar Delight

Ingredients:
Lots of dried vinkubala (caterpillars)
3 fresh tomatoes
3 onions
3 green peppers
Large bunch of kalembula (sweet potato leaves)
5 cloves of garlic
3 Fresh chillies
Lots of salt
Cooking oil

Method:
Bring a large pan of water to the boil, add dried caterpillars and take off the heat. Allow the caterpillars to sit in the water and rehydrate for ten minutes. In the meantime cut two onions, two tomatoes and all three of the green peppers into small pieces and fry them in a pan with the kalembula, chillies and garlic.

Once the caterpillars are hydrated, and big and squishy and slimy, drain them and add to a pan with hot cooking oil in. Fry those lovely little would-be-butterflies until they are crispy, adding as much salt as you desire. Once crispy add the remaining onion and tomato, finely chopped, into the pan with a little chilli and allow to fry for a further five minutes.

Serve together with the kalembula mix and as much extra chilli you need to mask the taste of the caterpillars.

Whilst I ate a good twenty caterpillars I cant say they were particularly nice, and left an unsavoury taste in the back of my throat all night. And no matter how many beers I drank the taste was still there, as it was the following morning when I woke up.

So in case anybody doubts me on this, take my word for it, caterpillars are not, I repeat not, a suitable replacement for spaghetti bolognase or any other food. In fact they should be left to do what mother nature intended of them, turn into butterflies. But if you still doubt me venture into the market in Livingstone and ask for Banyina Mutinta and she will gladly sell you a bag full to try for yourself.

permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 11, 2009 from Livingstone, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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The 'Kalomo Butcher' Saga

Kalomo, Zambia


Monday 11th May 2009

Police in Zambia are on the hunt for the man responsible for the murder of two innocent chickens in the quite community village of Simakakata on the outskirts of Kalomo. The suspect, 25-year-old Marcus Leach, is believed to have fled to Malawi to slip the Zambian police's attention, although as of yet there have been no sightings of him there.

An eye witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, revealed how it was just another quiet day in Simakakata, the school was full of innocent laughter, elderly women stood under the shade of trees gossiping as the sun warmed the backs of hard working farmers and all seemed well. Yet just metres away from the local school an ugly double murder was taking place, as recanted here by our eye witness.

"The man looked like a killer, with shaggy hair and a bushy beard he seemed the sort who would just slay innocent chickens," our source said. "He was aided by three local women, who it is rumoured he took as his wives as part of the killing ritual, one of whom seemed responsible for the kidnapping of the chickens. She arrived on the scene with the chickens tied together at their feet and with no chance of survival, and that is where that monster of a man took control.

"Holding the animals down with his feet he showed no mercy in cutting their heads off with a blunt knife. From where I was standing, out of their sight, I could see the animals twitching and fighting for their lives, but it was futile as he butchered them with a look of pleasure on his face. The poor animals were still twitching and clucking after their heads had been severed, it was ghastly.

"He seemed to rejoice in the killing of these animals, holding their heads up as trophies afterwards. I just hope the authorities catch him as he is clearly clucking mad."

When police arrived on the scene they found the chickens hacked into small pieces, fuelling the belief that Leach will strike again if given the chance, and given the number of chickens in Africa that is a very real possibility. Whilst all three women believed to have married Leach during his stay in Simakakata have been arrested none are prepared to reveal information on his whereabouts.

Mr Zikani Lockemup'Nthrowawaythekey, head of Kalomo police, believes Leach is armed, dangerous and more than capable of killing again.

"Such butchery, whilst skilled, shows we are dealing with a crazy individual," said Mr Lockemup Nthrowawaythekey. "Further to that it is understood he is carrying a Leatherman and will stop at nothing to spill more innocent chicken blood."

The hunt for the killer continues, but in the meantime we advise everybody to lock up their chickens and alert police immediately if you happen to spot Mr Leach.

Wednesday 13th May 2009

The hunt for Marcus Leach, the man dubbed as the 'Kalomo Butcher', has moved to Malawi after police investigations revealed he had left Zambia in the early hours of Tuesday morning under the cover of darkness.

Immigration officials at the Mchinji border post confirmed Leach had indeed entered Malawi on a bus headed for Lilongwe, but had not been seen since. Zambian police continued to question his three wives, but all swore they would rather suffer the same fate as the chickens than give up their husband to the authorities.

Both the Malawian and Zambian police have admitted they have very few leads to go on, although an envelope containing pictures of the crime was found at a backpackers in Lusaka. The gruesome images provide conclusive evidence that Leach is indeed the killer of these two chickens, who have been identified as sisters Lizzy and Bessie Feathers.

"I have seen some pretty grim stuff in my time with the police force, but this tops it all," said one of the investigating officers. "Above all it shows we are dealing with a disturbed individual who takes immense enjoyment out of his murders."

With the Zambian police at a loss with their side of the investigation the onus is now very much on their Malawian counterparts. With the search continuing the police have pleaded for anybody with any information to come forward as soon as possible.

Sunday 17th May 2009

The following is taken from a live broadcast the Kalomo Butcher gave late last night from a secure lake shore location, where it seems he is living quite the life in an all expenses paid chalet on the edge of the lake.

"Whilst I admit to killing the chickens I must stress it was not in cold blood, but in fact part of my cooking for senior members of the local community," Leach revealed. "It is not something I have done before, or will be in a hurry to do again, but it was a necessary evil that I took responsibility for.

"I did feel for those poor chickens as I cut through their necks with a blunt knife, especially when they started twitching violently as the blade ripped their skin open. The worst part for me was getting half way through the second chicken's neck before letting it's head slip from my grip, meaning it was flapping around fighting for life with just a bit of skin holding it's head on.

"Pictures were taken purely on a professional basis so that I can accompany articles I write for my job with images of my journey through Africa. What makes me laugh is a boiled and then fried over fifty caterpillars and nobody bats an eyelid, but kill a few chickens and suddenly people think you are a psychopathic killer with a thirst for fresh blood.

"Ask any of those who ate the feast I prepared and they will attest to my story, and further to that will tell you just how good the food was. I even have the recipe should anybody need a copy. For now I will stay at my secure retreat on the banks of Lake Malawi until police have spoken to village chiefs to clear my name and announce me innocent."

Tuesday 19th May 2009

All charges against Marcus Leach relating to the murder of two chickens in the Simakakata community near Kalomo have been dropped following a statement provided by the village chief.

Mr Zikani Lockemup'Nthrowawaythekey, the senior investigating officer, declared the case closed after Gift Mpenza, the village chief, confirmed the chickens had indeed been killed for a royal feast, and not in cold blood as had first been believed.

"Was food for my dinner," was all Mr Mpenza had to say in between mouthfuls of succulent chicken. The only remaining doubt centred around the manner in which the chickens had been prepared for this feast. But in order to be sure that the chickens had indeed been butchered according to the International Chicken Butchery standards Colonel Sanders of Kalomo Food Company (KFC) was brought in to carry out forensics.

"All I can say is them chickens were killed right and good, and they tasted finger lickin' good," said the KFC forensics chief, with chicken grease all over his white beard.

Despite being cleared of any wrongdoing Mr Leach is refusing to leave his hideout on the lake, citing the natural beauty of the area as his reason for staying there for the next two months. He was unable to comment at the time, given he was floating aimlessly in the lake without a care in the world.



permalink written by  MarcusInAfrica on May 24, 2009 from Kalomo, Zambia
from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff
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