Livingstone

Livingstone is the centre of Zambia's tourism industry because of a single and very major attraction: the famed Victoria Falls. However, I didn't get around to seeing the falls themselves until the second night I was there -- I wanted to wait until Miles arrived, or until I found out where she was. Instead, I spent the first two days exploring the town of Livingstone, so named after the explorer, who was the first European to have seen the falls (why you would bother naming a town after him, I don't know). The town is a tiny thing, a main road running through a downtown core surrounded by townships. There isn't much to do, really. There are some expensive tourist shops, and a local market selling the usual second-hand clothing, produce, household goods and cheap booze. There's also a small but fascinating museum, which intrigued me because whoever designed the exhibits so obviously romanticized "simple village life", and was disgusted by the pace of modernization and globalization in Zambia. I'd never seen a museum with such a blatant agenda before. It also gave a good overview of the history and geology of Zambia.

The second night I was there, there was a full moon. When there is a full moon, a phenomenon called the lunar rainbow occurs at the falls. During this time, the moon is bright enough that the light reflects off the spray from the falls to create these strange, ethereal rainbows that hover full-circle, around the forest and cliff face. The falls themselves are ghostly and beautiful in the moonlight, the never-ending cascade of water looking smooth and glass-like, the spray creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The full-circle rainbows, some double-ringed, look like huge bubbles which contain different worlds. One side of the rainbow would plunge down into the boiling chasm below, the other reaching around the high, rocky cliffs. It looked like something out of science fiction, it was so unreal. It was probably one of the coolest things I've ever seen.

Seeing the falls again the following morning was a whole different experience. I went with the free shuttle provided by the hostel, and ended up exploring the area with a hilarious young British guy who had done the bungee jump the previous day, but not yet seen the falls. The immensity and sheer power of the Victoria Falls is almost indescribable -- the cliffs are impossibly deep, the unceasing gush of water is hypnotic, the roar overwhelming. The spray hangs in the air like great columns of smoke. No wonder the local name for the falls is Mosi-o-Tunya -- "the smoke that thunders". We stood, watching the water fall, getting soaked to the bone by the spray, completely in awe. All around the falls is a lush, localized rain forest, growing thick and green and beautiful from the constant "rain" of spray. In the bright morning sun, rainbows formed everywhere, even sometimes directly in front of our feet as we walked along the forest's edge.

There are a number of "adrenaline activities" that one can do in and around the falls, including the bungee jump, swinging, a zip line, white water rafting and kayaking, skydiving and flying over in various light craft. I would have liked to have done a few of these, but unfortunately all cost more than 75$US -- a bit beyond my budget. I know I keep saying this, but -- next time! For now, just seeing the falls was enough. We also walked down to the boiling pot, where the water pouring down from the falls begins its journey down the river in a rolling, living mass. The area wasn't as crawling with tourists as I imagined it would be, nor is it as sickeningly commercialized as it could easily have been. People are definitely making money, but it hasn't been built up into something cheesy and off-putting. But, on the other hand, the town of Livingstone doesn't seem to get as much benefit from tourists as one might think.

I did splurge on the last day, making a trip to the Royal Livingstone, the town's only five-star hotel. I went for a pedicure (my poor feet were so dry and cracked and nasty at this point, so it was worth it), then down to the deck overlooking the Zambezi River for a drink while I watched the sunset. The Royal Livingstone is a real colonial-style hotel, with rich, lavish furnishings and waiters dressed in crisp white uniforms. I can imagine that the clientele is mostly older people who are exceedingly well-off and perhaps not in the habit of chatting to staff, because my youth and stories seemed to amuse the waiters. They gave me a drink and a few appetizers for free (though a monkey stole one right off my plate -- cheeky thing. I can see why they don't normally sell food down on the deck). You could see the spray from the falls, and hear the thunder, from the deck. It was an absolutely beautiful sunset.

Although Miles didn't make it and I missed her presence sorely, the hostel I stayed at, Jollyboys, was full of interesting characters. I liked the fact that, although it was mostly younger people, there was a good mix, and some seniors were around as well. In addition to the British guy, I ended up hanging out with a couple of young insurance agents from Wales who were taking six months off to travel the world; an aspiring organic farmer and all-around granola girl from Oregon; and a feisty Canadian grandmother. Though the company was good and I had originally intended to stay until Saturday, I decided to leave a bit early. I though it would be nice to get a bit more time in Zanzibar, and more time with George, before heading home in only 11 short days.