Erm...I totally forgot to continue this entry . Apologies to the boss ===>

We decided to stay on in Zimbabwe and check out the town called “Victoria Falls”. I couldn’t’ keep up with the names, really! This town felt more familiar to me than Livingstone. It has a very South African tourist spot kind of feel to it much like Harties. After having pizza at a Pizza-Hut kind of spot our Zambian friends were weary of staying on and having a beer at the local sheebeen. An uneasy unwelcoming feeling they got from the locals, they said. I thought, but they are just a walk away from one another.

I honestly had no clue what they were on about. I was on my own mission to find a husband. After some convincing we opted to have the beer at the safer option,, “The Kingdom Hotel”, which resembled a miniature version of “The Palace of The Lost City”. Bigger than life statues of Shaka Zulu at the entrance, miniature replicas of the falls, gigantic bulls’ horns on the roof, and a Ladysmith Black Mambazo type of band serenading guests as they eat…oh, and gallons of imaginary liquid cheese spewing from every single orifice. Odd and equally very familiar.

"Booze Cruise" along the Zambezi River

After our drink(s), we rushed to the Zambian border before it closed at 10pm. On our cab ride back to the town centre we saw a herd of elephants roaming on the side of the road. Our friends told us how sometimes the animals block the road for hours on end and cars cannot pass. I guess those Americans who ask all those silly questions have probably heard of Livingstone!

On our way to the falls I had seen absolute crazies bungeeing off the bridge between the Zambian and Zimbabwean border – 111 metres “into” the Zambezi river. The next day I figured that as a fellow crazy I had no choice but to bungee off that bridge too. It’s funny how the thought of leaping into nothingness seems unfathomable until some stranger screams “5 4 3 2 1 Bungee” and then off you go. Strange. 

It mostly felt odd and a little bit like my life was just about to end. At the same time, it felt like the feeling I get on a rollercoaster multiplied by about a thousand. It is much like your insides are going to come right out of your mouth. After I "boinged" up and down (like a human yoyo) three times, I was left hanging upside down and feeling like the rope is about to snap and I'm going to meet my maker in the Zambezi River. I’ll never do it again, and that’s the end of that part of the story. Okay, I'll probably do it again. 

On our last day before departure, we went on a sunset booze cruise along the Zambezi. We saw crocodiles and hippos in the water while overdosing on Gin and Tonic with the new NBF’s we made on the boat. As if overdosing on gin and tonic was not enough, we partied the night away at three clubs and got back to our temporary home as the sun was rising.  I was happy to have made good friends, stumbled upon an absolute cutie from Lusaka and, even though my search for a husband in the neighbouring country proved fruitless, I spent an afternoon and a bit of an evening in Zimbabwe. *chuckle* *chuckle* *chuckle*