The time had come to depart Zambia, crossing the Zambezi one last time, 35 days after we had entered the country at Katima.
We took our time leaving Mvuu, eventually pulling out of the campsite an hour after first light at around 7:15. The straightforward plan was to drive directly to Chirundu where we could stock up on food and supplies, and importantly refuel as the tank was looking a little low after our unscheduled return to Jeki yesterday.
It was with a fairly heavy heart that we were leaving the Lower Zambezi. We both agreed that it had been one of our favourite places, not just in Zambia, but of the last six months of travelling. Still, we were headed to Mana pools in Zimbabwe which is even more world-famous, and on the opposite bank of the Zambezi from our campsite at Mvuu. How different could it be?
We were sent-off in perfect fashion. As we pulled out Mvuu and turned left onto the gravel transit road, we were greeted by a small pack of eight wild dogs, running down the road towards us. Faces crimson, they were clearly returning from their morning hunt.
Our sighting was all too brief. As the dogs do, they barely acknowledged our presence. As we rounded the corner and they were trotting towards us along the dusty road, the lead dog broke slightly to the right, without even breaking stride. The lolloped off into the trees without a care in the word.
Carnivores, especially lions, love to use the roads to travel. We span round and attempted to follow them back, somewhere up ahead they surely must rejoin the road. However we had no such luck, a brief glimpse of this travelling band was all we were to get. There’s no doubt that this was the same group we potentially encountered near the lions by the Royal Airstrip on our first morning in the area. So at least this time we took away more than a fleeting glimpse and some spoor in the road.
The road to Chirundu gets less wild as you approach the village of Chiawa, and then the bridge over the Kafue river.
Sadly in these areas the children asking for sweeties from cars was as bad as we’d seen anywhere. You can’t blame them, asking mzungus in 4x4s for presents is entirely rational for them, but I would urge any visitors to Zambia to think before handing out sweets from their car. It wouldn’t be acceptable at home, it’s not acceptable here.
At Chirundu there’s a large Shoprite where we could stock up on food and water before heading into Zimbabwe. The quality of food and produce in Zambia was consistently impressive. In particular we bought far too many bottles of Zambian honey, which Sarah drinks like water, and in a quantity that could invite questions from customs officials.
It wasn’t our only chance taken with customs. Given the lack of fuel stations on the Zimbabwean side, and our oversupply of Zambian Kwacha, we filled up our tank and the two jerry cans on the roof. Turns out it was permitted, and nobody at the border cared to look.
The border at Chirundu was a disaster zone. The one-stop administrative building was on the Zimbabwean side of the Zambezi river. Just across the second Chirundu bridge, which runs alongside the much more impressive Otto Beit suspension bridge built in 1939.
Entrances to border compounds at all Southern African land borders are littered with an array of hangers on. Before entering the gates you’ll be told all sorts of tall stories. “You must change money here”. “You need to take an agent with you”. “You have to let me help”. All of this is of course rubbish, the process for entering and exiting any country via a land border is simple and standard. Furthermore there are plenty of officials in uniform prepared to point you in the right direction should you get confused. All of this goes out the window when entering Zimbabwe at Chirundu. If you’re really interested in the process then you can read my write-up here, but it’s fairly dull.
After being ripped-off, delayed, hassled, and generally put through the ringer, we were on our way in less than three hours.
We did make some friends at the border post. Maricus and Gella, a couple from South Africa who were also heading to Mana Pools. They didn’t have a booking, so we offered them a spot at the campsite we’d booked for the night. The notorious Chitake Spring #1.
Small Holiday Big Dream 
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