OUR OWN PRIVATE ISLAND: ZAMBIA

DAY ONE

After our stressful flight from Johannesburg we safely arrived at Livingstone airport, queued to pay our immigration fee of $50 each to get in and then were very relieved to find our missing luggage.

Rafael, a man who looks about 20 with 11 children and 12 grandchildren from the Tongabezi team picked us up from the airport and drove us through Livingstone itself – the new regional tourism capital, formerly held by it’s neighbour, the Zimbabwean town of Victoria Falls to our Zambezi river camp. En route he gave us a potted history of Zambia – I had no idea that there were 72 ethnic languages because of all the different tribes but that the official language is English.

Tongabezi river camp is our first port of call, set on a sweeping bend of the Zambezi with stunning river views where we check in and have an amazing lunch overlooking the wide blue river. Shortly after lunch we are driven by boat 20 minutes downstream to Sindabezi, a remote private island right in the middle of the river. We are left there with two staff members and a chef. Pure heaven. We could be the only people in Africa. If you want to be out of touch with humanity and communing with nature in your bare feet, then you couldn’t do better than this:-

The riverbanks en route included much flora and fauna – birds, nests, animals by the side of the river:-

Our approach to the island:-

To be honest, coming directly from a London suburb, away from my three children, two cats, my mother and a flight path, it was all a little bit too much for me on my first night in Africa. Just a little too remote. I mean hearing the sound of my own breath is a revelation, let alone lots of new and scary sounding animal noises that shuffle, roar, boom, ribbit, whoop and splash all night long. I tried my hardest, but in the end, the lack of door and open view of Zimbabwe across the river meant I was a little bit too scared to sleep in my huge double bedded tent on my own. Too many unfamiliar noises that had me leaping out of my skin every 30 seconds – hippos and crocodiles along the river, baboons, warthogs, elephants not too far away. Birds, crickets, monitor lizards. All manner of things that could come strolling into my room in the dark. The crashing waves I thought were made by hippos turn out to be the wings of 1000’s of teeny birds all dipping and swooping out of the same small tree all night long.

I did try. Honest. First I had an open air bath in my open air bathroom. The views of the river were spectacular. I tried to feel wild and free and big and bold and comfortable with my nudity because there was nobody out there to see me. Tried to do a sort of “Tah Daaaaaah” when I got in the bath. Tried to be like that woman in “White Mischief”. It worked for two minutes until I heard a motorboat approach (I think with our gin and tonic on board) which lead me to dive to the floor and crawl around on all fours until it was gone. Shortly followed by an interesting attempt to get into the bath from the floor up. Pathetic really. I mean who really cares? It’s not as if I’m Kate Middleton.

My bathroom:-

Bedroom:-

Our beautiful bedroom views:-

Then it all got a bit too dark and I wished I’d eaten a few more carrots before arriving in Africa. The stars are spectacularly twinkly but the nights are black. No light pollution. There is no electricity on the island so our evening was lit by campfire, candles, lanterns and solar powered lamps. I had to share in the end with one of my brothers.

It was a baptism of fire that’s for sure and the fastest way to get out of your normal routine and into something far more exciting.

We were there to do our ceremony for our father. It seemed like a fitting location, but the reality was that I was too scared to get anywhere near the riverbank for fear of being engulfed by a crocodile and it felt a little too remote a place to leave him. His request was to be at the Victoria Falls and we weren’t quite as close as we would have liked to have been. So instead, we had the most delicious meal, embraced our new adventure and couldn’t quite believe our luck – no other guests there that evening. Just the three of us. We felt like Richard Branson – I mean your own private island is the height of luxury isn’t it?.

Our sitting room:-

Bush tea:-

Me with the treehouse where we had our supper behind me:-

My camera appears to be incapable of doing it’s job. How can it not mimic the deep intensity of the rich red glob, cracking and reforming before my eyes on it’s way up into the sky – that deep red elusive African sun:-

This is the remotest, quietest, loudest place I have every been. A spectacular hideaway from the world. I am giving myself a good talking to. It is fine to feel exposed. Vulnerable. A little bit scared. I should not feel unnerved by all these new noises. Open to the elements is a good thing. This is camping at it’s best.

The stars.

No phones.

Heaven.