Zambia – Memories

Posted on Posted in Culture, Travel

I initially wanted to craft a blog post on another topic, but it is just not going to happen. For over a week I tried to come up with an adequate writing style, but I just can’t find one I am contended with. So I decided to just write something from my heart, as normally this goes a lot smoother. Not this time though. After struggling for another few days, I finally was able to finish this particular blog post. Long story short, here are my most memorable moments from my time in Zambia. Or alternately called: what happens in Zambia if you don’t take part in the touristic program.



Zambia has to be one of my most adventurous journey yet. I spent only a few days there, but those definitely have been some of my most memorable ones. I went to Zambia with a friend for the sole purpose of seeing the Victoria Falls. Zambia in its size is enormous and without a car, it is very hard to get around efficiently. So only using public transport leaves you with little opportunities. Having said that, I have so many memories from this trip. The first time I went outside for a stroll. I hardly experienced culture so raw, inartificial and natural. Buying your groceries from a farmer on the road, seeing people chatting and playing games on the street and taxi drivers who took naps in their car. Everything was just so present and in your face. Most vividly I remember the Victoria Falls. Standing in front of them and just being speechless and having a feel of emptiness. Nothing to worry, no thoughts at all. Just being in the moment and literally get lost in it. I won’t even try to explain it. It’s impossible – just experience it for yourself. Then there was the bus drive from Livingstone to Lusaka. As far as I remember, the bus actually departed on time. A miracle in Africa. Until lunch the journey went smooth. Butter smooth for African standards. Then some when in the early afternoon, the first break down. A couple of breakdowns later, the bus broke down completely. So after switching busses we arrived in Lusaka with a few hours’ delay. In the backpackers at Lusaka I remember jamming out to Reggae with strangers. How rustic, simple and descend our accommodation was. How hectic is was on the main bus stop. The dozens of people and some almost harassing you. The decision to take a bus to cross the border to Tanzania. A, according to schedule, 16-hour bus journey. As expected, the bus was delayed. We departed some when in the late afternoon. The seat was as uncomfortable as painted in my worst nightmares. Only one stop around midnight in the nowhere at a gas station, loud speakers constantly smashing African music, broken headphones after a few hours, being hungry and no sleep. This sums up my once in a lifetime experience. I arrived a at sunrise and I didn’t quite realize that I actually need to take another bus. After the crossing into Tanzania I somehow managed to find a bus. Well, a mini taxi to be more exact. The word overcrowded got a whole new meaning for me here. I literally felt like tuna in a can. To top that, a Christian preacher started yelling Bible passages in Swahili for a good part of the two-hour journey. Although this last part took place in Tanzania, it strongly belongs to the story and my memories of Zambia.


I hope those memories and the information alongside gave you an idea of what I experienced in Zambia. It was often a nerve wrecking and frustrating time, but when looking back, I smile. This place holds my heart and many unforgettable impressions!



Much Love,



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