Itinerant’s Itinerary:  Victoria Falls

We had the good fortune to visit Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, Africa, some years ago, before the economic strife and political tensions surrounding Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe made tourism there dicey.  The falls are located on the Zambezi River, between Zambia and Zimbabwe. 

In southeast Africa, the Zambezi River is the border between Zambia in the north

and Zimbabwe in the south.  Botswana is to the southwest and Namibia to the west.

 

The waterfall was originally named for Queen Victoria by Scottish explorer David Livingstone in the 19^th century, when the countries were settled by British and South African pioneers as Rhodesia.  Since Zambia’s independence in 1964 and Zimbabwe’s subsequent independence two decades later, the preferred indigenous name is “Mosi-oa-Tunya” — literally “Smoke that Thunders”. The waterfall is one of the seven wonders of the natural world, and a UNESCO World Heritage site; UNESCO recognizes both names for the falls.

An aerial view of the Zambezi River and the face of Victoria Falls looking to

the west, with Zimbabwe to the south (left) and Zambia to the north (right).

We stayed at the Victoria Falls Safari Lodge which was an experience in itself, filled with exotic warnings. 

After we checked in, the bellman led us to our room along an outside walkway lined with warthogs in the grass and small monkeys in the trees.  We were warned not to feed the animals along the walkway or we would never be rid of them. 

Safari Lodge warning sign

Baboon on the walkway at the Safari Lodge

Warthogs in front of the Safari Lodge in Victoria Falls

The bellman pointed out the hotel restaurant, a separate building about 50 yards down the driveway.  He advised us to use the hotel van that made regular round trips to go to dinner, and he warned not to walk to the restaurant at night despite the short distance, because water buffalo commonly cross the property and may injure or kill pedestrians. 

Giraffes crossing the driveway at the Safari Lodge in Victoria Falls.

In our room the bellman instructed us in the use of the mosquito netting that hung over our bed and showed us our balcony that overlooked a waterhole behind the hotel. 

View of the waterhole behind the Safari Lodge from our room balcony

He advised us to keep the balcony doors locked at night or when we were gone during the day, not for human security, but because otherwise monkeys would come into our room and defecate on our bed.  We dutifully followed all the instructions, but we could never master the complexity of the mosquito netting, so I guess amid all the other wildlife we risked malaria at night.

The waterhole behind the hotel property attracted animals that could be seen from the hotel.

Elephants at the Safari Lodge waterhole

The hotel also had an outside deck bar that overlooked the waterhole, so at sunset the water attracted animals and the liquor attracted guests who could view elephants, giraffes, buffalo, and antelope while sipping gin and tonics.

Deck at the hotel bar overlooking the waterhole

Our first night’s sleep was interrupted by heavy pounding outside our bedroom balcony.  The night was moonless and impenetrably dark, so we couldn’t see what was happening outside, and since we had been warned about the risks of monkey bed-defecation, we didn’t go out on the balcony to investigate.  The next day we asked about the pounding at the front desk, and we were told not to worry that it was a very common event.  Elephants apparently come alongside the hotel at night to scratch their backs by rubbing up against the building foundation and the lower balconies.  Why were we so concerned?

We walked a short distance to the town center and then to the falls along a walkway through the small Victoria Falls National Park.  The walking path begins at the rear of the property of the Victoria Falls Hotel, which is a classic Edwardian-style hotel of the British reign, built in 1904, and a fossil of colonialism captured in amber.

Victoria Falls Hotel

The waterfall itself was enormous, wet and loud.  While it is neither the highest nor the widest waterfall in the world, Zimbabwe claims it to be the largest. The claim is based on a width of over 5,600 feet and a height of over 400 feet forming the largest area of falling water in the world. 

Despite the size, the viewing stations are close to the face of the waterfall and are constantly engulfed with the mists from the falling water.  The roar of the falls is loud enough to limit conversation unless shouting.  The name “Smoke that Thunders” is entirely appropriate.

The Itinerant Traveler enjoying the mist at Victoria Falls

While in Zimbabwe we kayaked down a calm segment of the Zambezi River upriver from the falls.  Our party included Mrs. Itinerant Traveler, me, our river guide, and another tourist, a young man from Ireland who was traveling solo. 

The Itinerant Traveler watching kayaks being unloaded

 Mrs. Itinerant Traveler and me in our inflatable kayak on the Zambezi River

While the scenery was breathtaking and the company congenial, the most impressive parts of the paddle trip were the dark humps scattered along the river, each representing the head or back of a hippopotamus resting in the shallows.  Our guide warned us that despite all the carnivorous predators in Africa, most human deaths resulted from hippos and buffalo.  Unwary boaters particularly would float over a hippo hump and startle the animal, resulting in the boater and craft being capsized and attacked by the now angered giant.  We carefully followed the kayak guide’s path and gave wide berth to the dark river humps.

Hippos in the Zambezi river, while canoers pass by

The kayak trip was fun but tiring.  After dinner we fell into bed and fortunately that night our sleep was not disturbed by itchy elephants.  The next day we had planned to go on a horseback safari ride, but Mrs. Itinerant Traveler opted out, claiming exhaustion from the kayak trip.  If truth be told I was tired too, but didn’t want to miss out on a horseback ride.

The group for the horse safari included two African guides, me, and three Israeli men who were filming a travel documentary for the National Geographic television network.  Unfortunately they had been robbed the night before.  They were camping near Victoria Falls and had all their video equipment and tapes stolen in the dead of night.  Needless to say they were somewhat disgruntled and dejected, having weeks’ worth of work disappear, to say nothing of the violation of being victimized.  Despite their troubles they remained friendly and optimistic, recounting other episodes of tribulation, excitement, and danger that are apparently par for the course in their line of work. 

Itinerant Traveler and fellow riders ready for a horseback safari

A horseback safari is unique since one can ride slowly amidst herds of buffalo, warthogs, giraffes, zebra, and even antelope without spooking off the animals.  Apparently the animals perceive that horses are not predators, yet they don’t separate the rider from the horse.  I would imagine that hunters on horseback hold a distinct advantage.  We spent the morning in close observation of dozens of creatures in the Mosi-oa-Tunya National Park.

 African water buffalo barely stir as our horse safari group passes through the herd

When our guide spotted fresh elephant dung, we began to track a young bull elephant, and soon found him quietly eating leaves and grass.  The guides told us that elephants were different from other animals, for some reason feeling threatened by horses and riders, so we would tread with caution. 

The guides usually use an elephant spotting for what they called “an exciting photography opportunity”, but since the Israelis had been relieved of their camera gear, I was the only rider equipped for this photo op.  They called it “exciting” because it involved inviting the elephant to make a false charge at us, after which I would take a picture.  The guide explained to me that he and I would ride toward the elephant, which would then bleat and flap his ears and make a short charge at us until we retreated.  The elephant would then, having demonstrated his dominance, allow us to come close enough for an undisturbed photograph.  Sure enough, as the guide and I rode toward the beast, it played its part with great noise, stomping and indignation, and we retreated quickly.  Unfortunately however, when we retraced our path toward the elephant the second time, it once again bleated, flapped, and charged until we retreated a second time.  The guide then assured me that the elephant surely had now recognized our submissiveness and would allow our closer advancement.  The third time we approached, the elephant responded with its loudest snorting yet, its widest flare of its ears and its longest charge, as we rapidly rode away.  I asked the guide why the elephant continued to charge at us.  The guide told me that only one false charge was the rule, but maybe this elephant hadn’t been told the rule.  Not feeling assured, I tried to tell the guide that the photo wasn’t all that important to me, but he insisted we get the picture.  His new plan was for us to again approach the elephant, but this time the guide would take my reins as I held my camera.  When the elephant charged I was to take the photograph and the guide would then hightail it away leading my horse behind him. 

And we did it.  I almost fell off my mount as the guide took off away from the charging animal, but we got the picture.  Most importantly the Israelis laughed and applauded.  These were professional photographers who apparently routinely encountered danger and excitement in their work and they applauded.  Their accolade made my abject fear almost manageable.  The image is blurry and poorly exposed, but as travel photography, it’s my finest hour.

An elephant charges seconds before we retreated rapidly on horseback.