Victoria Falls. Just your average waterfall.

Dress for water. I wore my jacket and scrubs. (♥ Denille)

We took a booze cruise down the Zambezi river.

The occupants of the ship consisted of the crew, a Ugandan/Zambian couple, and us. Oh, and an entire art program from a magnet school outside Ft. Worth, Texas— with their chaperones. No drinking for them. But, what could us lushes on the boat do when Captain Joe told us to drink the bar out?

The best part is I wasn’t breaking any “contributing to the delinquency” laws by slipping beers to the kids.

However, it wasn’t all fun and hijinks. There were wild hippos and crocodiles to avoid being thrown into by teetotal adults.

The Jollyboys in Livingstone were the nicest lodging we’ve thus found. Too nice, in fact.

I was put off by the seasonal clientele of tanning college and high-school students. Neither seemed interested in leaving the walls of the compound except to see the big five on organized tours or get an altruism high by building schools. Both seemed very interested in the cheap alcohol and expensive variations of western food.

It doesn’t help that I had my camera stolen— likely by Americans.

But, the Jollyboys lodging was excellent. And, the staff were kind and helpful.

Highly recommended!

The prettiest border crossing I’ve seen is the Kazungula crossing into Zambia.

On the Botswana side, we took a morning drive through game reserves on the way to the border. The sealed road soaks up the daytime heat; and, during the night, animals will lay out to enjoy its warm surface. Their rest is finally broken by the sound of a horn— our horns.

It’s hard to describe how bizarre it is, watching a family of giraffe run for their lives from a bus. They scramble sideways, necks leaning precipitously. And, the only side of their radial herbivore eyes you can see are wide-open in fear.

Botswana passport control and customs are painless. You fill out a short form; and, start walking into savannah that stretches to the horizon. But, after less than a kilometre, a glistening river appears out of nowhere.

I’m used to mountain rivers. They’re fast, loud and found in valleys. But, the Zambezi river is 400 metres of flat, silent and blue water.

Excepting the muffled sound of the pontoon boats, slowly ferrying cars and passengers, the shores are silent.

It’s nice.