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| View north up the Zambezi from the Waterfront verandah. |
Wednesday, 6 January 2021
BACK TO LIVINGSTONE (I PRESUME). ZAMBIA
Sunday, 27 December 2020
GONE BANANAS AGAIN. ZAMBIA
20th - 26th Dec 2020
Back on Battledore Farm, about 20 miles west of Ndola up in the Copper Belt. I have written extensively about this place in blogs dating from December 2013 to January 2014, so don't intend to repeat all that detail. You can click-on to those past blogs if interested. Not much has changed in essence during the past 7 years although the farm has grown somewhat. It now covers 750 acres with about 180,000 banana plants, about the same number of gum trees (planted 10 years ago and now reaching maturity) and 9,000 citrous (orange) trees.
Left: Partridge and Porridge.
Right: Mrs Perkins who is a pleasant and well behaved dog.
That sums up the domestic menagerie. No photo of the damned cat.
With Christmas approaching we planned a lunch party for 25. Left: The rather dismal, and only, effort at Christmas decorations. 7 years ago they were banned completely by mutual agreement. Standards are slipping.
The farmhouse here has been undergoing major extension works and up to two days before this party it was like living on a building site. Last minute efforts got things relatively shipshape. Hard work by all the staff was required, but it paid off.
Left: A street in the local village. All very basic. Many of the residents work on the farm.
Left: The local school. The pupils have to walk to another school 5 miles away to take exams. I had taken Harry with me on this not very long walk. Big mistake! He gave up the ghost and lay down in the shade of a tree here for 20 minutes before deigning to raise his idle arse. Not only is Harry a complete wimp he is also incredibly unfit. It gave me the chance to speak to one of the teachers who spoke excellent English and was very charming.
George produced a loud music device which produced this alarming display of dancing! (below)....if it works.
Thursday, 24 December 2020
ON TO NDOLA, ZAMBIA
15th - 19th Dec 2020
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| Battledore Farmhouse, Ndola, Zambia |
To Zanzibar airport (3 miles north-east of Stone Town) and began the now bureaucratic obstacle course of checking in for my flight to Ndola. Other than a ticket and passport one needed the $80 covid negative certificate, which had to be stamped as 'authentic' by an airport doctor (and it took 30 mins to find one). Then the Kenya Health certificate which I had filled in on-line which was a box-ticking exercise to state that you didn't have a runny nose or cough or high temperature etc. A bit like filling in a visa application for the USA where they ask you to tick 'yes' or 'no' on subjects like 'are you involved in drug smuggling?' or 'are you involved in any terrorist organisation?'. I mean, if you want the blasted visa why would any sane drug dealer or terrorist or person with a cough confess? Then an immigration desk to check passport, then the baggage x-ray machine. I had an empty bottle of konyagi as a souvenir. Confiscated! But not the large full cannister of shaving foam or anti-mozzie spray. There is little real logic in all this palaver.
Left: The packed departure lounge at Zanzibar. They were mainly Russians waiting to board a large aircraft to Moscow. Russia-Zanzibar travel tours are very popular. Note: nobody here wears a face nappy.
We took a small ATR-72 turbo-prop for the 1hr 45min flight to Nairobi.
I had a 13 hour transit hold-over in Nairobi, Jomo Kenyatta, airport, 7.00pm until 7.45am the next morning. Hence the need for an expensive (useless) covid negative certificate. I didn't need one for the 3 hour transit on the way out and I wasn't going to leave the airport. I despair. No face-masks in Zanzibar, but at Nairobi some of the passengers were togged up in biological warfare outfits! (right). There were about 60 Chinese going to Ndola (they now own Zambia) dressed like this. I suppose if you are Chinese you panic and do as you are told.
I met a charming young Ethiopian lady at immigration here who was en-route to Addis Ababa. She had not got one of those pointless Kenya Health certificates and was therefore not going to be let in. She did not have a mobile phone (stolen) so I offered to help by downloading the certificate for her to fill in. That was taking some time and eventually the immigration checker just told her to give a telephone contact number and let her in! What is the point of all this bureaucracy? Anyway, she and I had a long stop-over so we went to an airport café/bar and spent the night drinking expensive Kenyan Tusker beer and playing on my computer and her using my mobile to WhatsApp home. She spoke perfect English and was great company which helped to pass the night.
Arrival at Ndola airport at 9.35am and no 'covid' checks of any kind. The only delay occurred because having paid for my visa the printer broke down and had to be dismantled and reassembled. I was met and picked up by my host and on to his estate, Battledore Farm, a 30 minute drive. Once there we only had time for a quick pit-stop before host, his two Brit assistants and I sallied forth on the 320km drive south to Lusaka. This journey was to renew the assistants' work permits plus other administrative tasks. It took over 6 hours, via a stop for beefburgers and chips, and we arrived at our base for the next two nights, Lilayi Lodge, south of the city.
Left: The front of Lilayi Lodge. This is a very luxurious establishment surrounded by a small game reserve. We saw zebras, warthogs and several types of deer on the drive in.
Accommodation was in a series of these thatched huts (right) dotted along lighted pathways in the grounds..
Left:....with very comfortable bedrooms and all mod-cons. There is a patio with views out over the reserve. Not the sort of place I am used to inhabiting.
There is a smart bar and fine dining. We dined on exquisite Zambesi River freshwater crayfish the first evening. The standard of service by ever attentive waiters was superb.
Left: Breakfast. My host (who is camera shy) and his two assistants (Martin and Andrew) following a full English fry-up with Bloody Marys. This is, for me, a rather debauched style of living.


















































