Victoria Falls 2002
Arrive at Victoria Falls airport to be charged twice as much as anyone else for our visas. Mugabe doesn't like the English much. The Falls, almost re-named Mosi-oa-Tunya (Smoke that Thunders) are majestically beautiful, but there isn’t nearly as much water flowing over the spectacular gorges as on my last visit.
I compensate by flying over in a helicopter where the pilot kindly performs a variety of acrobatics, swooping in really close. When I’m not too terrified, or green, I try and wield my camera. The two kilometre wide curtain literally does thunder, pouring into a boiling pot of a chasm over a hundred metres deep. I get to fly over Zambia as well. Does this count as a visit or not? The famous hotel still has a monopoly on location and views, though no paw prints this time. There aren’t many visitors either - perhaps they are too uncertain of their welcome to the country. I have dinner with a Zimbabwean, Paul who promptly gets rather too inebriated for my liking, so I decamp early.
I’m on a truck travelling from Victoria Falls to Cape Town this time. There are twelve passengers, two of whom are couples. I swore I was never camping again, but the trip dossier says that the drivers put our tents up for us. the baboons act as an alarm clock and we're on our way to Chobe in Botswana.