We woke again at 0330 (darn jetlag), watched the river for hippos and eventually set off to see Mosi-o-Tunya ("smoke from thunder", more commonly known these days as Victoria Falls).
Our lodge's location meant that we had to pass through the national park to get to the falls, and here began our day of wildlife.
A couple of not-so-shy giraffes peeked through the bush to check us out, so we reciprocated.
We're here towards the end of the dry season, which has downsides as well as ups. Fewer people is always an up, although the volume of water on the falls was comparitively low. This afforded the chance to see the volcanic cliffs that would otherwise be obscured - and the cliffs are indeed spectacular, highlighting the serious drop. More about that tomorrow.
We heard a lot of history. None of it from before European discovery of the falls, and none that adequately explains why a Scot should choose to name them after Queen Victoria. One presumes that many names were bestowed during colonialist times that, these days, seem anachronistic. Little doubt that we will encounter more of this...for example, diamond jubilee "celebrations" are scheduled locally for this weekend. Go figure what relevance to African people's lives a German-descended woman is meant to have.
The falls from the Zambia side, on which we were located, are relatively sparse this time of the year. They border Zimbabwe, from which apparently more of the flow can be seen.
We trekked down to the "Boiling Point", which is a set of rapids near the base of the falls. From there we could watch the "adventurous types" (this is Foodivore code for "crazy buggers") bungee jumping off the bridge that links Zambia with Zimbabwe. Deb demonstrated the quality standards of her shoemaker when one of her soles fell off on the way back up.
At the top we were entranced by baboons with several tinies in tow.
Finding ourselves with plenty of time on our hands we visited a reptile park. Lots of crocs, one with a supreme underbite, and many snakes including the infamous black mamba. There was a brief croc-shock when one frisked into action...apparently it didn't care for Andrew's whistled rendition of "Never smile at a crocodile".
We further tested our endurance by checking out the Livingstone souvenir market. Who would have known that "Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi Oi Oi" had become our national signature? (To be fair though, one of the souvenir spruikers at Vic Falls had demonstrated knowledge of Australian political history that would surpass most Australians of his age by rattling off each PM back as far as Whitlam.) Many wooden and stone hippo viewings later, we made our retreat. We really suck at souvenir shopping. Though some were happy to trade goods for a pen. Must carry more pens when travelling.
Being incapable of sitting down for a rest, we struck off into the bush for a walking safari, accompanied by two guides and a Zambian soldier. It seemed a little over the top until we reached the white rhinos. In part the guard is because of the dangerous beasts, but even more so to defend these greatly endangered creatures from poachers. The advantage afforded by their need for protection is that they're constantly guarded by soldiers, so guides can know the precise location to take tourists. There was a youngster as well, but our photos don't do it justice.
Sadly, finding other creatures was trickier. Still a walk on the plains of Africa is itself a treat, though a hot one in 39.8oC with little shade. We did see many "signs" of animals. We are now well versed in animal dung, territory marking (frequently involving the former) and footprints.
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