Victorian fluids: the smoke that thunders

“What is it going to be, Zim or Zam?”
“ Eh, Zim is better, they say, for the view.”
“ Is that really so?”
“ All Zims say so, so it might be true.”
“ What do those Zams say?”
“ Now, well, they say that during the winter, because of the high water levels the view from the north eastern side is better than from Zim’s side.”
“ But who is right?”
“ How should I know, I’m here for the first time in my life!”
“ But what do you think?”
” We’ll go to Zam, I think.”
“ Okay, we’ll keep Zim to the right and go left, to Zam.”

Seven thirty a.m. we’re on our bicycles, packed and all. On the road to the Zambezi we cycle through ten kilometres of wilderness. We say hello to two herds of impala and a family of warthogs. The ferry over the mighty Zambezi-river is already waiting for us: a truck drives onto the tiny boat and then it’s full. We are the only ones that do not wear a life-jacket; probably we are the only ones on this boat that can swim as well. The Zambezi is knows for the abundance of crocodiles and hippopotamus, but obviously not in the vicinity of this ferry, because we see none.

Then we cycle into our 27th country: Zambia. More spontaneous than the average Batswana, we are cheerfully welcomed by the onlookers. For the first time since Tanzania we see cycling Africans all around us, despite the slightly undulating landscape. Just before the town of Livingstone we ride through the Mosi-oa-Tunya National Park, where we are immediately obstructed by a herd of crossing elephant. A mother starts flapping her ears when we come to close.
Livingstone is a charming little town that’s completely dedicated to the Mosi-oa-Tunya: ‘the smoke that thunders’. Hotels, backpackers’ hostels, tourists and the main street that directly leads to the attraction. The atmosphere is more African than in Botswana: beggars, poverty and men who function as walking shops, with products like phone-cards, sunglasses, belts, copper bracelets and other handy things like rubber bands, combs and black money.

The following morning, our daypack filled with food, drinks, waterproof Pentax-camera and two raincoats, it’s our turn. Ten hard American dollars each allow us to walk the paths that lead to one of the seven world wonders: our first!

The falls carried the name Mosi-oa-Tunya for centuries, which was given to them by the tribes that lived in the area. They were seen by a white man’s eyes for the first time in the 19th century. Yes indeed, by mister Livingstone himself. He was very impressed by them, therefore his following words: “I look at a scene gazed upon by angels in their flight.” Unfortunately this probably caused him to change their name into the ‘Victoria-falls’, in honour of the British queen.

The photographic route, where no tourist goes, reveals more and more the further we walk. At the first viewpoint it’s a waterfall not really worth looking at, but this changes every few metres. The descent to ‘The Boiling Pot’ leads to the whirling water, which after the great fall and being pushed through a narrow gorge, looks for a way to reach the Zambezi again. The third path, the shortest route to the big mystery, we’ve left to walk last. Despite the cloudless sky we see a number of completely soaked people return from this route. It is winter, which means that the water of the summer rains of Zambia arrive here now. The waterfall is at its mightiest now. Hundreds of metres to the left and right we see and hear the thundering violence of the beautiful wonder. In the direction of Zimbabwe, where the waterfall continues for another kilometre, we see nothing but mist and clouds. We walk to the bridge over the chasm and get, just like everybody else, soaked within seconds by the tropical downpour of the Victorian fluids. This is a real waterfall; all the falling water of South-Africa, Lesotho and Switzerland can’t beat this. Once again we look at the Zim-side, while the water streams down our faces and we swim in our sandals.

“Zim was wrong, or?”
“ Absolutely, Zam is better in the winter.”
“ Right, next time Zim, but than in summer.”