Dr. Livingstone, I presume?

After three buses and about 50-odd hours, 35 of which were actually spent on a bus, I made it to Livingstone this afternoon.  I haven't seen the girls from Dar.  Either they decided to hold over in Lusaka or they got held up on the train.  The former not a bad idea as I feel guilty about zooming through the entire length of the country.  Anyway, either way, I won the race!  Well, I was the only one in it...

The first stretch was uneventful.  We started off over an hour late but we arrived in Tunduma at the border around 8:30 p.m.  On the way I was wishing it was Turkey as I knew someone would surely greet me and show me the way (this was truly off the guidebook, no map travel at this point), but as it turned out, there was a gentleman dressed nicely willing to get me to a hotel and help me over the border and to a bus in the a.m.  I knew it would cost me something but not sure how much at that point.

At 8 a.m. we walked over the border.  My helper was useful as I skipped over the rather long line of folks on the Zambian side trying to get out and into Tanzania.  As I was going in, my line was shorter.  However, the visa fee doubled just as the Tanzanian one did, so $100 later I was in Zambia with a 30-day visa.  Then the trouble started.  I was in Nakonde, Zambia.  There is nothing, I repeat NOTHING in this town.  It was also a Sunday, which I failed to figure into my decision about currency exchange in Dar before I left.  I figured I'd roll up to the nearest bank in Zambia.  NOT.  There was one bank, closed of course, and I doubt they had an ATM.  All this meant was that I was at the mercy of my "helper" who got me a bus ticket and then proceeded to ask how many Schillings I had and tell me the current exchange rate.  Again, failure to get it together before leaving Dar. I didn't check the current rate and I knew my guidebook was over 3 years out of date.  I had no bargaining power and pretty much told him he was screwing me, but he assured me otherwise.  I changed Schillings and dollars as little as possible, and figured out later that between buying the bus ticket and getting a small amount of Kwacha, I lost 20 bucks.  Chalk it up to travel expenses, which when putting together a budget, be sure to add in the "other" column some money for "dumb travel mistakes made or scams" or something to pad it a bit.  I didn't.

So I had the bus ticket, but it was 9 a.m. and the bus didn't leave until 2 p.m.  Again, nothing to do in town. I walked around it while the kids followed me smiling and laughing, saying hello.  That was about it.  About 15 bars, 5 barber shops and three restaurants, but nothing for me to do.  I just grabbed a tree and read...and read.  After a few hours a couple of fellas in suits approached saying I should sit in the office out of the dirt rather than on the ground.  I first said TIA, I'm always dirty and dusty.  Then I thought they meant the bus office but it turned out they were insurance salesman.  We chatted for a bit in their office nearby, and they had lots of questions for me, especially about marriage, specifically why I wasn't married and when was I going to be.  I thought back to the magnet I had on my fridge that said "Why do I have to get married?  I didn't do anything wrong."  I decided just to keep quiet as this is a heavily Christian place.

The bus finally left and I sat next to a nice school teacher on her way home.  We also had a drunkard on board who at one point was drinking an open beer and chatting with everyone.  He finally passed out, only to awaken after we stopped for a rest and to change drivers.  He sat up for a minute and started praising the Lord that he was where he was supposed to be.  He thought he got on a different bus due to the driver switch.  After dark we saw folks on the side of the road with fires going and a flaming stick, which was to be used to flag down the bus drivers.  I don't know where these folks could possibly live as we were in the middle of nowhere.  We brought on a lot of folks and stuff.  I didn't know where they all went as I was in the front and they were jammed back there somehow.  Incidentally, at this point, and throughout the entire journey, I did not run into one other non-African traveler.  Not the road usually taken I suspect.

We hit Lusaka about 4 a.m. and I jumped onto the third and final bus, which luckily was set to leave in only three hours time.  After we set off, we had an impromptu sermon aboard, which I tried to ignore my book about the Korean War for, but when I realized no one was paying attention, I went back to it and eventually got some needed sleep.  My seat mate this last stretch was a nice fella on his way to town for a job interview.  Zambians are some of the nicest folks.

So I'm in Livingstone.  I am also back at a regular hostel.  It was odd walking in.  It has been a while since I hit one of those and endured the stares from other backpackers and had to share facilities.  But they have a pool!  And a bar!  A restaurant...they rent bikes and organize Victoria Falls activities!  Yay. I can't wait.  During some of my down time on the way I looked over my budget and really can't afford these activities, but I made it this far I might as well go rafting or bungee jumping.  The rafting is worrisome as another gal died about four weeks ago.  One guy in my dorm has been here 3 months and said there have been three deaths in that time, but stupid mistakes have been made.  I don't know.  I think I'll check out the pool tomorrow and wait on the American gals to arrive.  They plan to enjoy some of the activities as well, so I might just wait to plan things then.  For now I'm showered and not in a bus and I'm in Zambia!