dared hope to see one on our first evening, let alone in
such dramatic circumstances. Sightings of this calibre
don’t happen every day, even here.
“Trust you to have world-class beginner’s luck!” I say.
I’m fortunate to have been on safari many times, but
for my mother, aged 73, this is a first — her first safari, her
first visit to Africa, her first journey south of the equator.
You wouldn’t guess it, though. Fascinated by everything,
she’s in her element, chatting knowledgeably with Manda
and revelling in every experience.
For me, our adventure is a first in a different way. My
mother and I have travelled together before, lapping up art
exhibitions and lingering in cafes in European cities. But
this is my first chance to show her a different world, one I
love with a passion. In the process, I’m hitting refresh on an
experience I know well. By sharing a safari with someone
I’ve known all my life, I’m seeing Africa with new eyes.
Zambia offers its visitors two of Africa’s mightiest
rivers, the Zambezi and its tributary the Luangwa. Back
in the 1990s, when The Bushcamp Company startedrunning safaris beside the Luangwa and two of Africa’s
best riverbank camps, Chiawa Camp and Chongwe River
Camp, opened in the Lower Zambezi National Park,
Zambia wasn’t an obvious destination for first-timers.
Most stuck to Kenya and Tanzania; the adventurous few
who travelled further south typically chose Zimbabwe or,
if they had deep pockets, Botswana and South Africa. It
was only when Zimbabwe’s tourism industry collapsed in
the early 2000s that neighbouring Zambia stepped into
the spotlight with a safe, competitive alternative. These
days, its best safari hideouts are classics in their own
right — rustic, intimate and committed to excellence in
guiding and conservation.
Unlike many African countries, Zambia allows night
drives in its national parks — a treat if you’re intrigued
by the dark and its pungent, velvety mysteries. Zambian
safari operators have a knack for bringing tourists and
locals together through sensitive, effective development
projects. I’m aware that, although reasonably fit, my
mother isn’t interested in Zambia’s more famous
speciality, walking safaris — pioneered by legendary local
guides like Norman Carr, Phil Berry and Robin Pope.
An eager traveller, my mother took to our pre-
departure preparations with minimal fuss — getting
jabs, asking neighbours to water her plants, buying anti-
malarials at Asda and insurance from her bank. Once
you’re over 65, travelling carries hidden costs. Even with
a loyalty discount, my mother’s single-trip policy was
well over twice the price of my annual premium.
Undaunted, she paid up and worked through our
packing list. The promise of same-day laundry meant we
didn’t need much, but on safari, clothes in neutral tones
are best. Blue and black attract tsetse flies and bright or
pale colours stand out too much, even if you’re not going
walking. “That’s my entire summer wardrobe out, then,”
said my mother. A shopping trip ensued.
Primed for strict luggage limits, my mother proved
expert at packing light. Before we checked in at
Heathrow, she pulled out a few items to ask my advice.
I’d recommended a sun hat that wouldn’t blow off
in an open vehicle, so she’d sewn ribbons onto hers.
“Brilliant,” I said, feeling like a teacher checking my
pupil’s coursework. She then produced three types of
insect repellent, bought in a rare wobble of indecision.
“Let’s just take them all,” I said, feeling a sudden need to
preserve all my mental energy for the journey ahead.
I needn’t have worried. My mother coped patiently
with our three flights, despite her artificial hip causing
a frenzy of beeping at each security check. She loved
people-watching at the airport in Nairobi, her first
taste of real-life, modern-day Africa — a mishmash
of travellers in smart heels, showy trainers, urban
sportswear and elaborate traditional gowns. By the time
we arrived at Mfuwe Lodge and Manda greeted us like
old friends, I knew everything was going to be fine.
Manda had a suggestion. One of the local schools
that Bushcamp sponsors had won a music and dance
competition and was holding an impromptu concert
to celebrate. Would we like to drop in? Tired but keen,
we said yes. So we found ourselves in the schoolyard
of Chiwawatala Primary School among ranks of radiant
children, their faces glowing as their friends and
teachers sang and danced. It was the best welcome
we could have imagined.CLOCKWISE: Hand-
painted cushion covers
drying in the sun after
an art session at Tribal
Textiles, Mfuwe; hippos
at a water hole covered
with water cabbage;
mother and baby zebras,
South Luangwa National
Park; on safari with The
Bushcamp Company
OPPOSITE: Emma’s
mum, Sally, paints a
cushion cover during
an art session at Tribal
Textiles, Mfuwe
106 natgeotraveller.co.uk
ZAMBIA