Thursday lunchtime and I’m off Northwards again - almost a week wasted in Livingstone and the complete loss of the Zambezi canoe safari. But, perversely, I wish I could stay a few more days in town - all thanks to last night’s Spag Bol in the hostel’s bar. Rather than eat out again I decided to eat in and watch the World Cup Semi-Finals on the hostel’s satellite TV. It tasted OK but I felt full and tired, so I went to bed without watching the end of the footy. But then spent the rest of the night making the short dash to the toilets to get rid of the meal by whatever means that nature provided!
After six hours on the road - with one short stop for the inevitable - I arrived in Lusaka to experience the delight of my first African rush hour traffic jam. The trip down Cario Road in the centre took about 30 minutes during which the vendors tried to sell me everything from a toddler’s romper suit, through cell phone covers, to oranges. By the time I headed out towards the airport and the Great East Road to find my bed for the night at Pioneer Camp it was dark. With the lack of streetlights and property/road developments it all looked different and I couldn’t find the right road. In the end I headed to the first decent hotel I found - probably a bit more than I wanted to pay but I needed to get to bed - eating didn’t even cross my mind. The room was clean and it even had a TV but after a shower and a brief read, I fell asleep. It was a good a good night apart from a strange dream (I can’t remember the details). My malaria tablets usually make my dreams more vivid and enjoyable but I think this one was caused by getting my foot caught in a hole in the middle of the bed sheet.
Bright and early I headed for another full day’s driving to Chipata. Breakfast was the same as last night’s dinner - gallons of water.I was hoping that this wasn’t going to be more than just a brief stomach upset as a Doctor’s call out in South Luangua (by bush destination) was going to be a problem and expensive. Another six hours driving - with a brief stop for a drink of Lassie (an Indian mix of milk & yoghurt) - got me into town just as the bank was closing - thank goodness for its hole-in-the-wall. The place to stay in town (according to the guide book) was "Mama Rulas" which turned out to be a pleasant placed with grassed terraces on which to camp, a few rooms and a bar/restaurant. After two days solid (or more accurately: uninterrupted) days on the road it was a struggle to get the tent off the roof & put it up; inflate my mattress and make another Lassie. There was a momentary thought of food and cooking but that soon passed and, as the evening chill set in, I headed off to sleep.
Despite only having to get up twice during the night, I decided that I should find some intestinal cement before heading for the Luangua Valley and the bush. The barman pointed me towards the ‘health centre’ in town. This was in a dusty street off the main drag and you could just about make out its original painted sign - now sadly faded by years of fierce sun. This theme continued inside with curled & faded wall posters about malaria, HIV/AIDS and the anatomy of teeth; broken furniture and what looked like a gibbet (but its set of scales indicated that it might have been for weighing infants). The reception desk was buried under piles of cheap A4 exercise books each with somebody’s name on the front - they must have been their medical records: much better than the convoluted IT solution the UK health service is attempting to introduce. There was already a small queue of 4/5 people looking dejected and/or holding various part of the body. The lady who appeared to be in charge said the pharmacist (doctor?) would be in "later" but wouldn’t say anything more. However, a very smart lady then walked in and said, in impeccable unaccented English, "Can I help?" I explained by predicament, she just said to wait and disappeared through a door. I immediately translated "wait" into Africa-time and settled down for a long one. But no! Almost straight away she reappeared with three bubble packs of pills. Great I thought, quick setting concrete but she admonished me to take 2 three times a day and to finish them all. I’d struck gold - antibiotics - a possible cure rather than a delaying mechanism. All for 4,000 Kwatcha or 75p.
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