Livingstone was always going to be a highlight of the trip. The historical connotation with Dr Livingstone is interesting enough, but the main attraction is the spectacular Victoria Falls.
Before I departed, I had hoped that I would get the chance to try Devil’s Pool – the absolutely ridiculous point on the falls where you can actually sit in the water at the fall’s edge and hang over it. Unfortunately, it closes seasonally, and when we approached the “thundering smoke” as it is locally known, it was obvious why.
Bongi had warned us we were going to get wet. I remember how wet I got at Iguazu. But even with this knowledge I still massively underestimated how soaked I could become. In fact, we all did. It was torrential.
The day was beautiful and clear, but unlike Iguazu and Niagara, you only have to walk the footpaths to receive a comprehensive drenching. Again, this could be seasonal, for the flow of water was tremendous and actually quite disruptive to getting a decent view. It certainly proved tricky to get a camera out for even a few seconds.
That said, the incredible force of these things always astounds me, and it was absolutely beautiful. We sat for an hour on the bank of the Zambezi, watching it drop off the edge of the world and I was quite happy.
That evening was our last together as a group, and the campsite facilities were good, with a restaurant with a great view of the river. I ate a fillet of Zambezi bream which was washed down later over cards with quite a few Jagermisters and whisky cokes, before I eventually called it a night. The next morning a number of our group left, and I relocated from the tent to a room, sharing with the intrepid Norwegian couple Ingvild and Martin. That afternoon we arranged one final activity before our departure the next day, and I was very much intrigued as to what it was going to be like.