Zambia: Living legends of the greater Livingstone

I had never been in a winged tin can before and also have an in¬built fear of flying. I reach into my pocket for an imaginary tranquillizer. John Murphy is 63 years old and, as I am to discover, a legend in Zambia. He is chief pilot of Zamfari Air Charters (Zamfari Limited), and is […]

I had never been in a winged tin can before and also have an in¬built fear of flying. I reach into my pocket for an imaginary tranquillizer. John Murphy is 63 years old and, as I am to discover, a legend in Zambia. He is chief pilot of Zamfari Air Charters (Zamfari Limited), and is a flying instructor.

En route we fly low over a dam. A female American voice on the GPS repeats: “Dangerous terrain … dangerous terrain.” He retorts “Thank you, Mavis,” and, a little agitated, shuts down the GPS. “These things don’t work half the time,” he mutters.

During the flight he asks whether I would like to take the controls and try my hand at flying. I decline. After about an hour I ask him how long before our landing. He looks at me and replies: “About five minutes.”

Pause. Then he looks again, smiles, and says: “That’s if we don’t go up in smoke!” Through his mischievous sense of humour I lose my fear of flying, and have the privilege of flying with him on the next two legs of my journey to lodges in northern Kafue and on to Lusaka for my trip home. He keeps a few very well-worn maps of Zambia close by, to which he refers from time to time.

When I arrived in Livingstone, four days before meeting John, I did what I never thought I could – I had myself strapped into a micro light and glided like an eagle with a young German pilot, Heiko, over the Victoria Falls. Mosi-oa-Tunya: the smoke that thunders. Normally one sees rainbows in the sky, far, far away – I looked down on rainbows that danced across the Falls from Zambia to Zimbabwe and back; I viewed elephant and hippo on the little islands dotting the Zambezi just before the falls.

By and by I endured an Extreme Jet Boat rush on the Zambezi, where the Hamilton boat would speed at 90 k/h and turn in the opposite direction in seconds; it also performed numerous vicious 3600 spins. Tony, the owner and skipper, would stand up, make a clockwise or anti-clockwise motion with his index finger and shout: “Spin!”

We took a bath on two occasions.

Following that was an exhilarating 30-minute chopper ride over the Falls and some serious flying above the Zambezi as it snaked through rocky gorges. The pilot, Ignatius Lindique, owns United Air Charter, one of only two helicopter companies operating in Zambia.

During my time in Livingstone I stayed in some charming places, and the Chrismar Hotel, the only family-run hotel group in Zambia, was my first stop. The original Chrismar Hotel was established in Lusaka in the early ‘90s and Chrismar in Livingstone was opened in 2007.

From there I moved to Waterberry Lodge, snuggled in a tranquil setting on the banks of the Zambezi River a short drive from Livingstone. Hippo and elephant are frequent visitors to Waterberry, especially at sunset, and it is also a birder’s paradise. On the night I stayed there, I and a few other visitors enjoyed an alfresco dinner under the stars with manager Gail and her partner, Conor. Gail spoke of her passion for Zambia, especially the Victoria Falls.

“…I am so amazed at the expression on people’s faces when they see the Falls. It is as if history and its mouldy pages disappear, as the water itself is meant to cleanse of the past and its memories at else could those angelic rainbows present but the myriad variations the soul all being expressed at the same time…”

Conor volunteers his marketing skills the Livingstone Tourism Association (LTA) and through him I met Kingsley Lilamono, chairman of LTA, who explained his vision to me.

“I have a strong passion to market Livingstone and the Kafue National Park as one entity: the Greater Livingstone. Many visitors enjoy an African Safari in Chobe, Botswana, or her neighbouring countries, and then visit Livingstone for the Victoria Falls, adrenalin activities and other attractions. The Kafue National Park, just a few hours away by road, has everything Africa has to offer. It is the second largest Game Park in the world. Between Livingstone and the Kafue, we have the best of Africa right here in Zambia … in the Greater Livingstone!”

I spent my last two days and nights in one of 12 magnificent tree houses overlooking the Zambezi at Sussi & Chuma.

At this magical place I met, among other exceptionally friendly Zambians, the head chef Thomas, who had trained and worked in Cape Town. On my first night he recommended his oxtail stew; it was the best I had ever tasted.

The next morning, while enjoying breakfast on the wooden deck outside the restaurant overlooking the river, a vervet monkey jumped onto the table and before I could blink, grabbed my bread roll and scampered off up into the branches of a nearby tree. Although a little taken aback, I could only smile about it. After all, I reminded myself, this is its natural habitat.

I also thought the name Sussi & Chuma was rather strange for a lodge.

It was only during a walking tour of the Victoria Falls, wearing a long, hooded raincoat as protection against the intense spray coming off the Falls, that my guide Daniel enlightened me.

Sussi and Chuma were David Livingstone’s faithful porters and friends. When Livingstone died, the pair embalmed his body and made sure it was safely returned home to England. At the entrance to Livingstone Airport are towering statues of Sussi, Chuma and David Livingstone grouped together in a trinity. Cont’d from page 22

John Murphy lands the tin can smoothly on the little dirt-track runway at Ngoma Airstrip.

We set off on a two-hour journey to Nanzhila Plains Safari Camp. I heed the advice given by Sue and Kim, the owners of Jollyboys Backpackers in Livingstone, where I had visited earlier. They had warned me about tsetse flies and suggested a remedy: to keep them at bay, mix equal amounts of Dettol and water and rub it into the exposed parts of your body. It works.

Our guides have their own solution: hanging on the tow bar at the back of the custom-developed 4×4 is a bucket into which they pack dried elephant dung mixed with a little dry grass. This they set alight. A trail of smoke follows us; tsetse flies dislike smoke.

As we bump our way to Nanzhila through woodlands of miomba, Zambezi teak and mopane, sighting elephant, antelope and interesting birds, John Murphy and I establish our Irish roots and burst into the song, Galway Bay: “If you ever go across the sea to Ireland. But we are both very happy to be in Zambia.

John Murphy stays the night at Nanzhila. At sunset we relax with hosts Andre and Lara in the open boma, mesmerised by the birdlife (over 500 recorded species reside in the area). Andre tells us that Nanzhila Plains has the largest variety of antelope in Africa; included in the enormous miscellany of other animals are wilq,dog and cheetah.

The next morning we bump our way back to the airstrip from where John flies us to Lufupa airstrip in Northern Kafue. A short drive takes us to Lufupa River Camp near the confluence of the Kafue River and the Lufupa Channel.

There I meet a Zambian guide, John D, who is known as the Hippo Man and who was featured some years back on Planet Earth with David Attenborough, of which he is very proud. At sunset John D and an expert birding guide, Boyd, treat us to a game drive, pointing out and, almost in whispers, naming the myriad birds and antelope we encounter on the way.

There is peace in this place of quiet; birdsong fills the air. Along the route I wonder about a strange-looking tree Y I see from time to time.

Fresh green branches stand erect, pointing to the sky; dried branches hang from the tree like dreadlocks. John D tells me it is an African Mangosteen, (Gardinia livingstoneil, fondly known by locals as the Bob Marley Tree.

A song springs to mind; “One love … let’s get together and feel alright…”

That night John D and I sit beside the campfire and he narrates some of his experiences, and then walks me to my comfortable tent (guests have to be accompanied to their spots by trained guides and may not move about alone until after sunrise).

Elephant, hippo and other beasts, including lion, roam freely through the camps at night. I hear hippo right outside my tent.

After breakfast it is a two-hour boat trip down the Kafue River to Hippo Lodge. On the way I see pods of hippo, a monstrous crocodile, three bull elephant and a leopard. No lion.

It is Saturday, 27 June, and the British and Irish Lions would be playing the Springboks in the 2nd test of their tour.

I am out of all form of communication and quite desperate to follow the game via friends back home.

When I arrive, though, I am ecstatic that Bruce Whitfield of Hippo Lodge¬ex hunter, conservationist and part owner of the lodge – has made a plan, DSTV set up with a generator! He loves his rugby.

After the game we set off on a night drive to Hippo Pool, unique hot springs a short way from the lodge. The guides light paraffin lamps and place them strategically on rocks encircling the pool. The water is 37°C. A huge log fire flares and we have drinks served while wallowing like little hippo in the soothing hot water.

The next morning, Bruce, with an elephant gun slung over his shoulder, walks us to McBrides’ Camp about five kilometres away, where we will spend our last day and night. Halfway there we are met by John, a guide and game ranger from the Zambian Wildlife Association (ZAWA), armed with an AK47, like all ZAWA personnel I meet. Two mornings earlier I had heard about Michael Jackson’s death from a ZAWA guard. He had received the news via radio contact with his colleagues.

Only in Africa!

Chris and Charlotte McBride greet us at the edge of McBrides’. I learn that Chris is the man who discovered the first white lions, and is the author of the book The White Lions of Timbavati. He recorded the birthing of the first litter ever, a male and female whom he named Temba (Hope) and Tombi (Girl).

When Charlotte and the others bed down we sit by the campfire, metres from the river’s edge where the hippos graze. We listen in profound silence to the roar of lions. He knows them all. “That’s Rufus,” he whispers. Another roar: “That’s Max.”

“And that’s the Phantom,” after yet another. “We’ve never seen the Phantom… thus the name.”

Roars echo from across the river and when I enquire about them, he says: “This is a new pride. They arrive about September last year. We have not studied them well enough to name them.” Into the night we talk about life, conservation, lions and the bush.

The next morning a Cessna circles the camp. Chris, gazing into a clear blue sky, remarks: “That’s John Murphy. We’ll send a vehicle to fetch him.”

John joins us for breakfast after which Chris and Charlotte accompany us to the Hippo Airstrip and John flies us to Lusaka.

I break into a silent song: “If you ever go across the sea … come to Africa: to Zambia.”

Culled from Sawubona in flight magazine