Famous for its massive waterfall, Victoria Falls has turned itself into a city catering to adrenaline junkies, similar to Swakopmund.
Lush and lovely:
That's a lot of water:
Me swinging on the vines at the falls:
Me pretending not to speak English so I can take a photo (photo credit to Diana):
Me and Andrew standing on the edge. Good thing it hasn't rained recently (photo cred Diana):
Monkeys at the falls:
Cuteness overload:
Double cuteness overload:
River rafting, sky diving, bungee jumping, flying in microlights, horseback safaris, river boarding, etc, are all readily available. We figured that a major tourist destination would be more or less safe, and we were right. Vic Falls is relatively well off and right on the border with Zambia, a stable country, so most everything can be had for a price. And what prices! An hour on the Internet would set a person back a million dollars, while a Coke could be had for the bargain price of $500,000. The following day, however, the prices would be even higher. Welcome to the land of hyperinflation where it is necessary to change money on the black market or risk bankruptcy by being legitimate and exchanging money at a bank. When we arrived, the black market exchange rate was $600,000 Zimbabwean to $1 US, while the official rate was $30,000 Zimbabwean to $1 US. By the time we left Zimbabwe, the black market rate was $1 million to $1 US and the official rate had not changed. To put that in perspective, the aforementioned Coke was the equivalent of 50 cents US using black market rate, but a whopping $16.67 US using the official rate. Granted, Coke comes in lovely glass bottles which we rarely see in US, but $16.67 is a bit much. Regardless, the important thing is that I became an instant multi-millionaire as soon as I entered Zimbabwe.
Being a large group, we were expected to sit down and listen to a booking agent give a presentation on all the activities available to us in Victoria Falls. I'm a complete sucker and signed up for a full day river rafting with the river boarding option (basically riding down Class 5 rapids on a boogie board), a microlite flight, a half-day horseback safari, and a sunset cruise followed by an evening of drumming. After hearing other people relate their near death experiences while river boarding, I decided to let another person take my spot. Turns out that was a wise decision on my part because river rafting was at turns exhilirating and terrifying, and, given my superb swimming skills, I likely would have drowned had I attempted the river boarding.
I've rafted a couple of times before, but the Zambezi River is far more intense then my other experiences. When they say Class 5, they mean Class 5. Out of 20 rapids that day, a third or so were Class 5, one of which had claimed a life a couple of weeks earlier (our guide didn't tell us about that until late in the day after we were done with that particular rapid). Then there was the Class 6 that we walked around. That was flat out scary. A massive, roiling, angry rush of whitewater, the roar it produced was deafening. There was no consistency to the rapid other than the initial 15-foot drop in -- everything else boiled and exploded ferociously into random waves -- turning it into a zero survival zone. We sent the rafts down and watched them get battered around, at times tossed high into the air, smashed forcefully into boulders, then held under water for several seconds. It was awe inspiring. Although we flipped our raft twice (for the most part a raft won't flip unless a guide puts it in a position to do so, and the folks on my raft really wanted to flip which was ok except when we did it on a Class 5 and I swallowed more than my body weight in water), my favorite part of the rafting experience was when we rocked through the rapids perfectly, hitting our lines and surfing on the waves like pros. Our guide was suitably impressed, telling us we were his dream team and he wished all his boats could have people like us. I believed him because for awhile I felt the mix of adrenaline, elation, and confidence that produces that peculiar electric feeling which only comes from a group of people being completely in synch. After a full day on the raft, however, I was exhausted and muscles I didn't know I had were would no longer be silenced by my brain.
The next day I thought I would take it easy and have a relaxing horseback safari. I should have known better. Turns out all the horses were former racehorses and I wound up with Whisper, the owner's favorite horse because he liked to run and was a complete handful. Keeping Whisper calm was a full time job, made increasingly difficult when our guide chose to tell us tidbits about animals like "Cape Buffalo are one of the deadliest animals in Africa and will hang around for a full day or more to make sure that whatever they attacked is dead. If they see any movement, even hours after their target has been still, they will trample and gore again. If you find yourself being chased by a Cape Buffalo, your best bet is to take off your shirt, throw it on a tree, and hope it confuses the buffalo so that it will attack the tree. But it's not likely you will fool the buffalo." Very reassuring words to hear as I watched a small herd of buffalo in the brush mere feet from me.
Being a large group, we were expected to sit down and listen to a booking agent give a presentation on all the activities available to us in Victoria Falls. I'm a complete sucker and signed up for a full day river rafting with the river boarding option (basically riding down Class 5 rapids on a boogie board), a microlite flight, a half-day horseback safari, and a sunset cruise followed by an evening of drumming. After hearing other people relate their near death experiences while river boarding, I decided to let another person take my spot. Turns out that was a wise decision on my part because river rafting was at turns exhilirating and terrifying, and, given my superb swimming skills, I likely would have drowned had I attempted the river boarding.
I've rafted a couple of times before, but the Zambezi River is far more intense then my other experiences. When they say Class 5, they mean Class 5. Out of 20 rapids that day, a third or so were Class 5, one of which had claimed a life a couple of weeks earlier (our guide didn't tell us about that until late in the day after we were done with that particular rapid). Then there was the Class 6 that we walked around. That was flat out scary. A massive, roiling, angry rush of whitewater, the roar it produced was deafening. There was no consistency to the rapid other than the initial 15-foot drop in -- everything else boiled and exploded ferociously into random waves -- turning it into a zero survival zone. We sent the rafts down and watched them get battered around, at times tossed high into the air, smashed forcefully into boulders, then held under water for several seconds. It was awe inspiring. Although we flipped our raft twice (for the most part a raft won't flip unless a guide puts it in a position to do so, and the folks on my raft really wanted to flip which was ok except when we did it on a Class 5 and I swallowed more than my body weight in water), my favorite part of the rafting experience was when we rocked through the rapids perfectly, hitting our lines and surfing on the waves like pros. Our guide was suitably impressed, telling us we were his dream team and he wished all his boats could have people like us. I believed him because for awhile I felt the mix of adrenaline, elation, and confidence that produces that peculiar electric feeling which only comes from a group of people being completely in synch. After a full day on the raft, however, I was exhausted and muscles I didn't know I had were would no longer be silenced by my brain.
The next day I thought I would take it easy and have a relaxing horseback safari. I should have known better. Turns out all the horses were former racehorses and I wound up with Whisper, the owner's favorite horse because he liked to run and was a complete handful. Keeping Whisper calm was a full time job, made increasingly difficult when our guide chose to tell us tidbits about animals like "Cape Buffalo are one of the deadliest animals in Africa and will hang around for a full day or more to make sure that whatever they attacked is dead. If they see any movement, even hours after their target has been still, they will trample and gore again. If you find yourself being chased by a Cape Buffalo, your best bet is to take off your shirt, throw it on a tree, and hope it confuses the buffalo so that it will attack the tree. But it's not likely you will fool the buffalo." Very reassuring words to hear as I watched a small herd of buffalo in the brush mere feet from me.
Nonetheless, it was a great experience because the animals assume that a human on horseback is one of the herd instead of a predator, allowing one to often get much closer than would be possible in a safari vehicle.
Warthog babies are cute, too:
The trade-off, of course, is that there is no protection from attack, other than the speed of one's steed. Perhaps that is why we were riding former racehorses...
Since I had ticked off water and land based activities, it was time to take to the air. I signed up for an outrageously priced 15-minute ride in a microlite, and subsequently decided that ride was well worth the outrageous price. Kind of like a cross between a (very) small plane and a hang glider, microlites allow the movement of the hang glider, although with external power.
Since I had ticked off water and land based activities, it was time to take to the air. I signed up for an outrageously priced 15-minute ride in a microlite, and subsequently decided that ride was well worth the outrageous price. Kind of like a cross between a (very) small plane and a hang glider, microlites allow the movement of the hang glider, although with external power.
My Austrian pilot had first been taken up in a microlite 15 years earlier, had fallen in love with it, got his license, and moved a few years later to Zambia to fly them. It was a blast cruising over Victoria Falls and I could see the eons of geologic history in the sharp curves of the Zambezi as it snaked off into the distance. The best part is I even got to fly for awhile. The microlite was surprisingly nimble and required a soft touch to make gentle turns. For a brief moment I allowed myself to fantasize about flying microlites for a living, then I remembered that I had a sunset cruise scheduled for that night.Here's a recipe for potential disaster: put a bunch of climbers on a boat that serves free food and booze, and add a ceiling full of metal support bars.
Before things got crazy:
Almost instantaneously we turned it into one big jungle gym with people performing increasingly crazy feats as the hours passed.
Upside down chickenfight! Mike and Drew go at it while Jase officiates:
Diana displays some uncommon skill:
Thankfully, nobody was scarred, other than the riverboat captain who had likely never seen 12 people devour 4 plates of hors d'oeuvres in 30 seconds flat.
It was easy to get lost in all the activities in Vic Falls and forget that the country is dying. Sure some buildings were not in the best shape, there were potholes, and stores were not especially well equipped, but that is pretty much everywhere in Africa. Besides, it was possible to order a pizza and have it delivered (a reasonable measuring stick of Western modernity if ever there was one)! Beneath it all, however, was a sense of desperation and some locals had told Hot Rockers that people were dying out in the countryside from lack of food. Such suggestions raised some hard questions and prompted debate among those on the trip about buying food and distributing it to those in need. We were not a mini U.N. peacekeeping mission. Some thought we were risking potential harm to ourselves by distributing food because we would be a target. We had no idea if we would even be in any areas where we might encounter famine. At the same time, how can one person turn down another person in obvious need? Ultimately, a couple of people decided to buy food independently by going across the border to Zambia, and some, like me, pitched in money to help cover costs.
It was easy to get lost in all the activities in Vic Falls and forget that the country is dying. Sure some buildings were not in the best shape, there were potholes, and stores were not especially well equipped, but that is pretty much everywhere in Africa. Besides, it was possible to order a pizza and have it delivered (a reasonable measuring stick of Western modernity if ever there was one)! Beneath it all, however, was a sense of desperation and some locals had told Hot Rockers that people were dying out in the countryside from lack of food. Such suggestions raised some hard questions and prompted debate among those on the trip about buying food and distributing it to those in need. We were not a mini U.N. peacekeeping mission. Some thought we were risking potential harm to ourselves by distributing food because we would be a target. We had no idea if we would even be in any areas where we might encounter famine. At the same time, how can one person turn down another person in obvious need? Ultimately, a couple of people decided to buy food independently by going across the border to Zambia, and some, like me, pitched in money to help cover costs.
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