We start the day at Wonder Bake, a local bakery that sells huge muffins and many other unidentifiable sweets and savouries. The cappuccinos taste yummy, even served in the tiger-pattern cups and saucers. At the next table all sorts of trading and money exchanges going on, with one hand passing the bills under the table, the other gently raising the cup of tea for another sip.
We start off for Lusaka, Zambia's capital, as first drops of rain hit the warm asphalt. Still, the first 350 km go rather smoothly across the recently completed highway. People line up everywhere along the road selling juicy mangoes. Our tongues are watering... either from the sight of the yellow-orangy fruit or the drops of water slowly but surely fizzling down from our soaked helmets.
We pass many little towns until we get to Mazabuka, home to large sugar estates. Yet our time is tight so we press on. After Mazabuka, the road gets adventurous again. Add some rain, nightfall, potholes and even some fog to the mix and you have a recipe for disaster. Our speed is 15 km/h. We can't see the trucks lining up in front of us, let alone the road and the many surprises it has in store for us. We slalom in-between holes, get blended by in-coming cars and pray. Eleven hours after leaving Livingstone, we finally reach Lusaka. The main street called Cairo road -- leading up to the capital by that same name -- with Soviet-looking blocks lining up on each side of the road. Finding a place to sleep at 2 in the morning is no easy treat, yet somehow we manage to find a piece of grass to put our tiny Teepee up. We collapse, dreaming of the 480 km we just barely survived.
Have you still dubts we are looking for troubles?
We start off for Lusaka, Zambia's capital, as first drops of rain hit the warm asphalt. Still, the first 350 km go rather smoothly across the recently completed highway. People line up everywhere along the road selling juicy mangoes. Our tongues are watering... either from the sight of the yellow-orangy fruit or the drops of water slowly but surely fizzling down from our soaked helmets.
We pass many little towns until we get to Mazabuka, home to large sugar estates. Yet our time is tight so we press on. After Mazabuka, the road gets adventurous again. Add some rain, nightfall, potholes and even some fog to the mix and you have a recipe for disaster. Our speed is 15 km/h. We can't see the trucks lining up in front of us, let alone the road and the many surprises it has in store for us. We slalom in-between holes, get blended by in-coming cars and pray. Eleven hours after leaving Livingstone, we finally reach Lusaka. The main street called Cairo road -- leading up to the capital by that same name -- with Soviet-looking blocks lining up on each side of the road. Finding a place to sleep at 2 in the morning is no easy treat, yet somehow we manage to find a piece of grass to put our tiny Teepee up. We collapse, dreaming of the 480 km we just barely survived.
Have you still dubts we are looking for troubles?
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