Since Namibia, we’d been chasing that feeling we’d had from doing the self-drive safari. We wanted awesome camping trucks again, and the ability to chart our own path without taking expensive tours. Originally, we were looking to do something really crazy–get awesome camping trucks in Harare, Zimbabwe, drive/camp our way to Victoria Falls, across the border to Zambia, and loop all the way around to Lusaka, Zambia.

However, we couldn’t find any reasonable availability for awesome camping trucks. The ones that were available were from South African companies, that would bring the car to you from South Africa, but charge a fortune for this “service.”

I’ll tell you, I’m really glad no part of that idea panned out.

We ended up putting together a self-drive safari in Zambia. We couldn’t get an awesome camping truck, all we were able to get was a regular old 4×4 pick-up truck. So, the plan was to pick up the truck in Lusaka, drive up to South Luangwa National Park for a few days, then back to Lusaka to return the truck. It all seemed reasonable enough, and though the rental prices we were being quoted were still expensive, especially compared to what we got in Namibia, it was far cheaper than the crazy quotes we were getting from the South African places.

Nothing about this trip was reasonable. Everything about it was high stress. But it was a fantastic adventure that, looking back on it now, I only think about with smiles.

Leaving Livingstone

Leaving Livingstone is a fun little side story. We were researching how to go about getting a ride to the airport, and while doing so Erika came across several recommendations on various TripAdvisor forums for some guy named “Dennis.” The recommendations even had his WhatsApp number. So we texted him.

Dennis got back to us very quickly and said he could totally take us to the airport. He quoted a very reasonable price, right in line with the guidance we’d been getting from our research, and so we took him up on it.

Sure enough, Dennis arrived on time, and we piled our stuff and ourselves into his jalopy. Oh boy, that car! The speedometer didn’t work… I don’t really think much of the electrical system worked, actually. The brakes sounded like they were mechanically actuated, like they were connected by lever to the brake pedal, and by rusty levers at that. But Dennis drove slowly, safely, and was so, so friendly.

So yeah, we texted some rando whose number we got off the internet, and that rando gave us a ride to Livingstone airport. In retrospect, this seems so much crazier than it did at the time! At the time, it was like, “of course we’re going to text this rando, that’s a great price.” I love it… #africa

To Lusaka

We had expensive flights from Livingstone to Lusaka, where we’d stay the night before picking up our rental truck the next morning, that we’d drive to South Luangwa.

Hello! I’m your hindsight travel advisor–let me break in right here for a second. The correct thing that you should have done is to take an equally expensive flight from Livingstone directly to South Luangwa, and forget the whole rental car mess. You’re welcome, and enjoy South Luangwa!

That next morning, we had our Ford F150 and were on our way to South Luangwa.

A Once-in-a-Lifetime Adventure… Literally

This drive was… an experience. Okay so first, it took almost 10 hours. It passed through some of the most incredible rural African landscape, beyond anything I could have imagined. Tiny dot-on-the-map villages composed of huts without electricity, children walking miles down the highway to and from school, women walking miles to pump water from the boreholes, women selling fresh produce on the sides of the road, women hand-washing laundry in the creek… do you get the impression the women do everything? Yeah.

Also, I used the word ‘highway’ to describe the road because I think it’s the only correct word to use, but I think it can also convey the wrong impression. The entire drive was just two lanes, though paved the whole way. The middle half of the drive was also on a brand new road, which was surprising and wonderful. Before and after this portion, though, was pothole filled. The villages and towns were full of people filling the streets, you just kind of slowly push your way through.

You pretty much just pass, and get passed, whenever. On straights, in villages, on curves, whatever. Transport trucks are phenomenally slow because they are overloaded beyond comprehension. You will always meet these trucks in curvy terrain, deciding when to chance passing them.

We stopped at one point to buy produce from one of the road-side stands. We needed vegetables for some of the meals we planned to cook, and felt better about leaving our money in these little villages than at a big supermarket. Erika went to buy them, while I stayed in the car. While she was on her way back, she was walking behind two young men who were coming up alongside the passenger side of our car. One of them pulled on the door handle.

I optimistically thought maybe they were trying to open the door for Erika, as she was right behind them. But no, she assured me they had no idea she was there, and were surprised when she said “excuse me?”

This wasn’t the only time this happened, either. Days later, on our drive back, we were stopped at a bridge that was only one-lane wide, and it wasn’t our lane’s turn. Knowing this is a choke point where people have to stop, locals come set themselves up with produce and trinkets to sell–and push hard for your attention. As soon as you stop, they circle the car, competing with each other to come right up to your door window, knocking on the window and showing what they have. While at one of these choke points, some people tried the doors on our car, too.

In both cases, the doors were locked so there was no harm. Still, it was obviously unnerving.

Bottom line, the drive is stressful. On top of these stresses, I couldn’t stop my brain from freaking out about costs. The rental was not cheap to begin with, but also we only had a limited number of kilometers free before they charged by the kilometer. Google didn’t seem to have a fully accurate read on the distance from Lusaka to South Luangwa, and it was looking like we were going to blow away that free number by far more than I’d expected going in. The dollar signs were spinning past my eyes, and I was envisioning any chance of going to Asia evaporating in a cloud of bankruptcy.

Croc Valley Camp, First Impressions

We got to Croc Valley Camp, our lodging for the next four nights, just after sundown. Croc Valley has various campsites, as well as lodges with shared bathroom facilities. We had one of the lodges, and after a bit of an awkward check-in process, we were led to our place, given the key, and left to our own devices.

There were strange sounds of unseen animals coming from all directions. Is that a warthog? A triceratops?! Who could know in the dark. Erika and I walked back across the grass to the truck to grab some of our bags and take them inside.

We got inside, turned on the light to our new home, and I basically had a complete and total meltdown.

There was no window, just a screen riddled with holes, with curtains that didn’t really cover. The ceiling was high, was thatched, and up in the corners were spiders and such. On the wall right as you come inside was a sign to leave NO food in the room, to instead lock it up in the lockers in the shared kitchen, as otherwise the baboons will break in to steal it. On those tiny curtains was an enormous spider, the likes of which I’ve only seen in Zambia, and which there seem to be one to a house.

It was just too much. After the stresses of the drive, the stress of worrying about our trip finances, this was just too much, and I broke. The grounds of the campsite were very dark, adding to the feeling of claustrophobia I was developing, and I was dreading spending four nights there. Erika had a tough time calming me. We gathered all our food to take it to the shared kitchen, so we could make dinner and lock up the rest.

The kitchen was much the same. The table was sticky. We washed all the dishes and utensils before using them, as they were of questionable cleanliness. One of those same giant spiders was up in one of the corners. I named him Spider Man.

Croc Valley Camp, Second Impressions

I moped and dragged the rest of the evening, but managed to get to sleep… after forcing Erika to pull back the sheets and check for spiders. We slept well, and when we woke up, everything changed.

Croc Valley bathed in sunlight was fantastic! We stepped outside and the weather was beautiful–warm and brilliantly sunny. We went to the kitchen and made our breakfast, and decided to take it down to the outdoor picnic tables to enjoy outside.

When we went to the picnic tables, we discovered more about the surroundings of our campgrounds that we couldn’t begin to tell in the dark. Like, it’s situated right on the high banks of the Luangwa river, with an expansive view across the river and to the opposite bank. And the river is full of exciting wildlife. It turns out the sounds we were hearing the previous night weren’t warthogs or triceratopses at all, but hippopotamuses! The river was full of them, in big, hooting clumps.

Staring out at the river we could pick out other fun creatures too. There were plenty of birds–storks, herons, and such. There were logs at the edge of the water that, after staring long enough, you could discern weren’t logs, but were actually crocodiles. And later in our stay, numerous times, we saw elephants across the river, pushing and pulling at the trees.

It was mesmerizing and magical just sitting there, listening to the hippos, watching for animals. There was a local, in a small skiff, who would paddle up the river to the same point each day, fishing, before turning around. Who needs a safari in the park when you can see so much right here?

Especially when “right here” can be pool side.

John and Erika go to the Middle of Nowhere for a Safari, and Spend the Whole Time at the Pool Instead

Croc Valley has a pool that, it turns out, is a very nice pool. And I’m not at all ashamed to say that after breakfast, we decided to go to that pool, and we ended up spending all day there.

I think we were exhausted from our run through Africa, which other than some down-time in Namibia after the safari there, had been pretty go-go-go. Who knew it would be going to a place like this that we could finally unwind?

Laying poolside, you can read a book, sun yourself, listen to hippos, and look up occasionally to watch elephants on the other side of the river. It’s just awesome.

So we spent all day out there, catching up on the sun we’d been missing. And then we spent all of the next day poolside, too. Yep, that’s right.

A Self-Drive Safari in the Park

The pool-side safari was amazing, but we did actually rent that god forsaken pick-up for a reason, which was to take ourselves on a self-drive safari in the park. So we managed to drag our lazy asses away from the pool, convince ourselves to get back into the car again, and set out for the park entrance, which was just a couple kilometers from the camp.

At the entrance, you have to stop at the tiny office and pay your admission fee. We also wanted to find a map, or get some idea of where we’re going anyway. But the guy working the office was… whew, he was not friendly! We were put on edge immediately, as we stiffly paid our admission. Then, Erika dared to ask for advice on where to drive.

And we were met with warmth and helpfulness! His entire demeanor changed. He showed us on a map a good route to take, and pointed out a spot in the park that lions had recently been spotted at. He assured us we’d have plenty of time before park closing to get to that spot and back, and we set off, happy and excited, to our car to enter the park.

This was such an incredible experience! We could linger as long as we wanted at any point, staring at the animals until long after they’d had enough of us, or just sitting looking at the scenery trying to spot animals. I did miss the ability to spend all my effort in looking for animals, as I had to pay attention to the driving, but Erika is better at spotting them anyway, so it works out.

It felt like we were out intrepidly exploring, instead of being on a prescribed track. We had the general route we’d planned to take, but all throughout there were little side roads we could take. We’d take them, and be thrilled when it led to animals.

We weren’t far into the park before we saw our first elephants–because they’re everywhere–and were met with the downside of driving ourselves: we don’t know what we’re doing. We weren’t sitting there long, watching the elephants, before it was becoming clear they were rather cranky. Had I parked too close? They didn’t like the camera pointing at them? One of them trumpeted angrily at me as I drove hastily away.

One of my very favorite parts came from taking one of those side roads. It took us through a narrow strip of trees, and led into a large grassy plain, with simple two-wheel tracks cutting through it, and there were giraffes everywhere. We followed them around, watching them eat, giving them funny voices and commentary. The scenery all felt very Jurassic Park, it was fantastic.

When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Go

We made our way slowly through the plain, finding several animals–impala, zebra, more giraffes–and had turned to start making our way out, when Erika said she really needed to pee. There obviously aren’t restrooms–it’s not a zoo–and the guides and park regulations make clear that you’re not to get out of the car, because lions, etc. But she really needed to go.

So we stopped in the plains. We looked around. The giraffes were a ways off, no elephants coming, didn’t see any lions. So she opened the window and hung out and peed.

We followed the rules! No one left the car! I mean sure a lion could have pulled her out of the open window but… no lions did! She’s fine!

This was one of the funniest parts of our trip, easily. Once again, I thought of Jurassic Park; at least no Tyrannosaurs got Erika.

About Those Lions…

After hilariously answering nature’s call, we continued on, leaving the plains and driving back into the trees. Shortly after, we had to cross a dried river bed, full of soft sand and finally making this 4×4 worth it. It wasn’t as fun as the 4×4 driving in Namibia, but it was still fun!

We continued deeper into the park with not much going on–really, more elephants? Yawn. There was something in the road up ahead though. I started preparing to drive around it, and suddenly jammed the brakes.

It was a lion!

Just in the middle of the road, maxin’ and relaxin’, sippin’ on tequila. He did not care about us creeping up for a closer look, he was happy where he was at. And he wasn’t alone, either.

Two lions! Three lions! Four, six, seven… ten lions! My god, ten lions! There were two large males, with beautiful manes, some females, and a number of “kittens,” including one sadly missing most of his tail.

We sat in the truck enraptured by them, sometimes creeping the truck up closer. For a long period of time, we had the place to ourselves, just us and the lions. Eventually, it must have been time for the afternoon tours to come through, because suddenly there were many more safari trucks. But we’ll always cherish that one-on-one time we got to spend with the lions.

Just amazing… we’d done three day-trip safaris, and on each one had seen lions. I’d never have expected to see lions once. Turns out, they’re everywhere!

Our self-drive safari was a huge success, and as the sun was going down, we made our way back out of the park and back to camp. I’d still say never do this silly drive that we did, but for that afternoon, it was all worth it.

Sight-seeing at Croc Valley

As I’d mentioned, we could see and experience plenty from the grounds of Croc Valley, enough so it was difficult to drag ourselves out for our safari. With sweeping views of the river, we could see such things as…

…a herd of elephants walking across the river, from the opposite side to our side!

…a hippo at night, lit up by the lights of the camp site, wandering up close to camp and honking loudly!

…and, best of all, elephants in our camp!

We were at the pool when these guys wandered into camp, getting various people’s attention before we ran over to see what was up.

These other sights we could enjoy while lying around overlooking the river, reading a book, enjoying the beautiful sunsets that Africa never fails to deliver.

All the Comic Book Heroes

Way back in Medellín–which feels like about six years ago?–we were wandering the streets of El Poblado checking out the raucous party scene, when I learned about Erika’s distaste for bats. There was a particularly large one, swooping repeatedly from one side of the street to the other, that had Erika’s nervous attention.

“It’s Batman,” a man nearby said, in a heavy Colombian accent. We laughed, and have called any bat we’ve seen since then “Batman.”

Well, Batman was at Croc Valley.

In the evenings, the bugs would come out, seen in thick buzzing clouds in the lights of the outdoor area of the restaurant. And when the bugs came out, so too did Batman. Every night, at the same time, Batman would return, swooping through the outdoor seating, gobbling up bugs in the air. I tried to tell Erika that he was our friend, our caped crusader, our dark knight, the hero we deserve but not the one we need, visiting vigilante justice on mosquitoes so they can’t give us malaria, but to no avail: she did not like Batman.

That’s fair. I didn’t like Spider Man.

Spider Man, you’ll remember, was the giant Zambian spider who lived in the upper corner of the kitchen area. Reliably, he was always there, your friendly neighborhood Spider Man, watching, doing whatever a Spider can. Until, one time, we went into the kitchen and he wasn’t there.

I was not okay with this. Spider Man needed to come back to his corner right god damn now. As long as he wasn’t in that corner, who knew where he was! In the dishes? On the refrigerator? RIGHT BEHIND ME?!

I left Erika in the kitchen, opting to be outside in the picnic area where I could hopefully see Spider Man coming.

Later that day, we went back into the kitchen to clean up some dishes after having tea. Erika went before me, and I came over a few minutes later. When I stepped inside, she simply and excitedly said, “I found Spider Man.”

I stepped back toward the door, until I realized, he might be on the door! I spun around, surveying the door and the area over it. No Spider Man. He wasn’t in his corner, either. Erika had found him above the sink, hiding in a corner there. Naturally, this meant washing the dishes was on her.

An Unexpected, Wonderful Experience

Maybe it’s due to the more do-it-yourself nature of the trip, or the fact that we had to work so much harder to get there, as opposed to just taking a short flight, but this trip really stands out as a highlight for me. Croc Valley was far more comfortable than I’d ever imagined, and somehow it turned out to be one of the most relaxing portions of Phase 2.

Don’t get me wrong: I would not advise you to do this trip the way we did it! Seriously, fly there! South Luangwa is great and I totally recommend you go, just not by car. Nevertheless, it really was a once in a lifetime kind of thing for us, and with the stressful part of it well behind us–and, spoiler, we made it to Asia! That cloud of bankruptcy hasn’t engulfed us quite yet!–it’s easy now to only remember everything that was special about the trip, and laugh at the bad.

What’s Next?

We had to do that 10 hour drive again to get the pick-up back to Lusaka. There, we’d be slowing down even more, and spending some quality time with a friend of Erika’s who lived there. We hope you enjoyed this entry, let us know about it!