ZAMBIA AND A VISIT TO ELEPHANT CAFE

Article by guest author Peter Brooker

Crossing over the Victoria Falls Bridge from Zimbabwe to Zambia has the same feel of the Glienicker Brücke or Bridge of Spies. You hand your passport over on the other side and you're in another country, obeying different rules.

On the drive to Chundukwa lodge (I'll review in due course) we passed The Livingstone Express; a steam train that runs from Livingstone to the Victoria Falls Bridge where one can enjoy a view of the falls whilst a 5-course meal is served in the dining carriage whilst stationary.

It runs every Wednesday and Saturday and costs £210. I ask the taxi driver if it's worthwhile, he tells me he doesn't know. 'Can't afford it,' he jokes. I felt bad for asking. We drove through Livingstone Town which has a rough population of 170k people in a country of 20 million.

Before the drive through Elephant Corridor, I spot a hotel called Fawlty Towers. The taxi driver hadn't heard of the TV show, and when I explained it being a big deal in the UK, he told me that explained a few things.

The usual interrogation ensued, what spiders and snakes are indigenous, apparently the same as Zimbabwe. Black and Green Mambas, and the common spiders have no venom. However, this was poor Africa. Scorched land burnt out looking trees, hollowed-out shell houses and hills of plastic on the roadside. Depending on your point of view, there is nothing to see and everything to see here.

Elephant Cafe

The trees that line the road to Elephant's Cafe are peppered with Weaver Nests. The male builds the nest for the female Weaver to inspect. If it doesn't meet her inscrutable standards, she demolishes the nest, and the male is forced to start again.

Most of the trees have been pillaged by the herds of elephants that still walk through these parts. The ones 'on display' at Elephant Cafe have been rescued from the drought. (Forget the year that happened). A sticky but smiley gentleman by the name of Africa welcomes us. I ask if Africa is a common name in Africa, he tells me no. "I am the only Africa in Africa,' he says broadening his smile even wider.

Africa points to the resident hippo in an island just by the water's edge, grazing nonchalantly. His name is Socks. He goes on to tell me the owner had two dogs. One morning one dog came to bark at some baboons in the tree, the next minute a crocodile gobbled him up and he was gone.

The riding of Elephant's is no longer practiced here in Elephant Cafe. They have 3 males and 3 females, and they don't go far. When feeding the Elephants you can't help but feel in awe, and whilst exhilarating, it's also very daunting. Especially with Matilde (I hope I got the name right), with his huge white tusks that could smash a man with one dismissive swipe. There is a restaurant built on a wooden deck in the Zambezi River, set among a resident herd of rescued elephants in Livingstone, Zambia. I would recommend this activity in a heartbeat. Expect to pay $80 on entry and be overwhelmed.