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Family Holidays
By Linda Shenton
Almost two years
to the day had passed since our last fateful foray to the South
Luangwa National Park. There was a significant difference to the
2005 travel plan compared with 2003. This time we had a date to
stick to. A wedding date in fact, which is definitely what this
family needs to get anywhere on time. A contingent was arriving
from Australia and if they could get there on time, what excuse
could we possibly come up with, being the mere Lusaka contingent?
Well, Lusaka
contingent is just a loose term, since we had cousins from Sweden
with us. Added pressure – Swedes are (we found out) actually worse
than the Germans when it comes to precision and planning.
Rolf had been
jittery for weeks: checking and re-checking the trusty vehicle in
readiness for the epic adventure. So much so, that he had even
purchased a new (read good second-hand) vehicle just for this very
mission.
Our training in
the finer art of precision and planning had started way back in
June, with the arrival of the Swedish friends together with our
eldest daughter. Clearly though sub-consciously resisting all
efforts to be de-Africanised, the various mini epic adventures we
laid on didn’t go exactly to plan. Well us Africans all had a great
and rowdy time, but one glance at the miserable faces of the Swedes
peering out of the gloomy back of our insulated 3-ton truck and I
knew they weren’t OK with this type of adventure.
One coped slightly
better (perhaps knowing she was only here for three weeks helped),
the other developed an increasingly alarming allergic condition.
Rolf appeared quite oblivious to their misery, but the occasional
glint in his eye was the clue that it was time to shake that
European cage and expose them to “real living”.
In keeping with
his aims and objectives, daughter and friends were duly dispatched
to Livingstone, by bus (of course) to spend a few days with the even
more chaotic sister/aunt. She certainly didn’t let the side down
and the trio returned having truly experienced the wild side of
Livingstone. The allergic one could now be heard from a
considerable distance with chest rattles, sniffles and jibbering.
Without time to
recover, Rolf decided that it was cultural time. We spent the day (traveling
again by truck), with some of our senior employees plus our boat on
the Kafue river near Mukambi Lodge. Once again, we Africans all had
a splendid day, our visitors however, spent most of the day on the
floor of the boat, avoiding the battleship size crocs and hippos. A
visit to the nearby community camp for a long and convoluted story
about the “donnafish”, a mythical mermaid, left them even more
confused. The local villagers running the camp must have howled
with laughter even more than we did at how earnestly the visitors
started off listening to the story, only to contort their faces into
hilarious shapes and styles as their confusion deepened.
After the
visitors, came the cousins. This was serious pressure: real family
members and reputations at stake. The first brainwave came after
hours of furtive discussion over how we were actually all going to
fit in the wonderous new car (which by now was, clearly, too small)
by sending the cousins to Livingstone and then flying them to Mfuwe
and meeting them there. Brilliant, but of course, yet another
deadline – to be at Mfuwe airport on time.
Careful planning
was supposed to result in us arriving in Mfuwe a full three days
ahead of the cousins. Perfect! Except one by one, our entire
family was stricken down with what seemed to be the most vicious flu
ever known to man. Leaving two days later than planned, was not
quite the start we had hoped for, and we still had to call in to
visit a friend at Mpanshya mission en-route.
Using our newly
acquired organisational skills, we decided to phone the camp where
we were booked to stay pre-wedding to a) check the booking still
existed and b) to tell them we’d be arriving a couple of days late.
For the first time, we realised the value of these skills as we were
informed that actually the camp was now over-booked and there wasn’t
room for us anyway. A momentary relapse into the secure, well-known
state of panic and chaos, resulted in a second brainwave, to phone
friends at Wildlife Camp who helped us out with one of their “old”
chalets.
The “old” chalet
was perfect, and the Wildlife Camp a great place to start the grand
tour of South Luangwa. Elephants crossed the river several times a
day and wandered through the camp.
The Swedes were
awestruck and thought everything was so tame, “just like a zoo”. I
noticed that familiar glint in Rolf’s eye from years of guiding
similar minded tourists in the Valley, and grinned. We were in for
some fun game viewing. A couple of well orchestrated elephant
charges and much trumpeting later, and the Swedes were paler than
when they arrived, and far less chatty. Zoo comparisons were
instantly abandoned. We then happened upon a trio of sleeping
lionesses under a shady tree beside the road and with Rolf
approaching closer and closer, loudly wondering what the zoom
capability of their digital cameras was, resulted in the one nearest
the beasts becoming horizontal on her seat, with her head in our
youngest daughter’s lap, who thought she had a headache and/or was
tired, and was most sympathetic.
Stopping for our
traditional behind-the-bush toilet stop and general body stretch,
didn’t improve things. They absolutely refused to disembark and sat
glumly in the scorching car whilst we lazed around under trees. We
couldn’t understand how they didn’t need a toilet visit having
consumed gallons of water (Europeans are obviously well trained in
avoiding dehydration), until it became obvious that they had never
had to “go” in the wilds. Us girls found this revelation hilarious
as well as slightly odd, and collapsed into fits of stifled laughter
at their nervous enquiry as to where the next lodge with toilet
facilities might be. Youngest daughter seemed to have a perverse
delight in telling them that it would definitely be days before we
got to the next bathroom. They paled further.
The day ended by
joining old Valley friends for sundowners by the river. The cousins
having finally been persuaded to come out of the vehicle, but unable
by now to partake in the drinks and snacks, stood cross-legged by
the edge of the river. A glorious Luangwa sunset was in progress,
when just behind them, hippos exploded into a noisy fight. Strange,
we thought, what had disturbed them. Looking around, I noticed the
younger son was missing. Spotted him some distance away armed with
dried mud balls, surreptitiously pelting unsuspecting hippopotami.
Grinning wickedly, he pointed at the car – they were back inside,
with windows firmly wound up and doors shut.
After a couple of
clearly harrowing days with us on safari, we delivered the cousins
to the safety of other more responsible family members at the family
camp far into the depths of the park. The wedding was spectacular –
in an ancient ebony grove, romantic and serene. All too soon it was
time to leave, and the one cousin obviously couldn’t bear the
thought of another trip with us, and quickly booked her ride out
with another vehicle.
The return journey
home was largely uneventful other than Rolf deciding that the
vehicle might be overheating which involved long stops in the
encroaching darkness on sides of the road in the hills, and
jettisoning various possessions such as a most useful wooden box. I
still don’t know if this was a made up problem as I couldn’t really
see if the eye glint was there in the half dark. But the remaining
cousin did comment on how lovely it was to see how in love Rolf and
I were because we peered so deeply into each other’s eyes all the
time! A successful family holiday at last!
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December
2005