9/12/15, “My
Sixth Continent”
Victoria
Falls, Zimbabwe (Mosi-oa-Tunya/Victoria Falls National Park)
Six down,
one to go. Next December, when I set
foot in Melbourne, I will have visited all seven continents. I still remember the first time I set foot on
each continent, well, except for North America, seeing as I was born here. First came Europe (Norway) when I was
12. It was not until I was 25 that I
visited my third continent, Asia, when I went to Israel. Last December, at the age of 27, I got four
and five when I went to Argentina and Antarctica. Now, here in Zimbabwe, the day before my 28th
Birthday, I have visited my sixth continent.
Ironically, it seems that something happens to my water bottle each time
I visit a new continent. In Israel, I
lost my first water bottle. In
Antarctica, the second one broke. Today,
as I took my picture at Victoria Falls Airport, I noted that the lid strap on
my third water bottle broke. It’s an
easy repair or replacement, but it’s a nuisance until I manage it. I don’t care.
I am sitting in view of the largest waterfall in the world. Well, I am when the people taking photos
don’t obstruct my view.
To me, this is
familiar, writing in this Travelogue in a scenic spot. To the people smiling at me, it is a novelty,
a story they will tell their friends back home.
More strangers who will have stories about me. Reader, just think about all the strangers
you have stories about. Doesn’t that
mean there are strangers who tell stories about you?
It is clearly deserving of its title as one
of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World, just as were the Grand Canyon, the
Paricutin Volcano, and the Northern Lights.
I have no doubt that Harbor of Rio, Everest, and the Great Barrier Reef,
all of which I believe I will see next year, will live up to the title,
too. I have had plenty of time to write
since I closed at Kennedy, but I have held off.
I wanted this entry to start with Victoria Falls dateline and this
vista.
The flight was unadventurous,
especially for a 15-hour flight. I slept
most of it. The row of four only had me
and one other guy, and he suggested we take three seats to nap in shifts. I was fine with that, and I slept well, ate a
lot, too, and saw the old Hitchcock film, “Strangers on a Train,” which was
pretty fun. I went through the transit
at JNB and then headed to the Duty-Free shop, where I got two boxes of cigars,
including my traditional birthday box, Montecristo No. 4, the same box I have
gotten on my birthday for three years in a row now.
I really hope this computer is
water-resistant. I’m replacing it with
an Acer as soon as I get home, so it just needs to survive the trip, but the
mists from the falls are not helping.
Anyway, I went to the smoking lounge, which was very elegant, and I
realized I didn’t have means to charge my phone. I asked if they had a USB port, and they
gladly plugged it into their computer terminal.
To call African service obsequious would be a gross understatement. I got a coffee and enjoyed a Punch. I then decided to buy adapters, which I knew
I’d need for the trip, and Zimbabwe still uses British adapters, so it wasn’t a
total waste.
It was soon time to board,
and I had to gate-check my bag. I slept
most of the flight, and we were soon in Zimbabwe. As I got off the plane, I asked myself if I
should say it, meaning should I announce my sixth continent. I decided to wait. I did however, take a ceremonial picture at
the welcome sign, which was when I noticed the strap on my water bottle was
broken. Immigration was just a formality
and paying the visa fee, a cross-border visa that covered both Zimbabwe and
Zambia. I took a cab into town, and he
told me about the options for exploring the area. I wanted to swim the Devil’s Pool and go to
Hwange National Park, neither of which were as easy (or as cheap) as I
expected.
I came here to see the
falls. I’ve seen the falls. Technically, I could get my souvenirs, have
my meal, and go home. Whatever I do
tomorrow is a bonus. I got to the hotel,
and the service once more was beyond obsequious. I mentioned that I wanted to swim the Devil’s
Pool and go to Hwange. They set their
entire activities department on finding out for me, and they spent an hour
looking into it. I was shocked at the
price they quoted for Hwange, and I’m not sure it’s worth it. The Devil’s Pool, they said you need a
reservation, and it’s fully booked for my entire stay. Fuck.
I lit up a Montecristo during this process and headed to the falls. Once I got to the entrance, a helpful guide
walked me through the path to the park, saying he’d keep the hawkers off of
me. He helped. I gave him a tip. He earned it.
People here have names like Duty and Honor and Champion, and it
shows. I finished my cigar before I got
to the information desk. I paid the
entrance fee, and they were able to show me where the inscription photo was
taken. It is quite possibly where I am
sitting right now, though it is hard to tell now that we are in the “dry”
season. I put dry in quotes, since it
still feels and looks plenty wet.
Once I
looked at the viewpoints, I lit up my Cohiba and then walked around, in
complete awe of the falls. It puts Niagara
to shame. I found my spot with a good
view of the falls, where I proceeded to write this entry, and lit up a Rome
after I finished the Cohiba. I will now
close so that I can make my way back and keep singing “Wildest Dreams.”
Victoria
Falls, Zimbabwe
I don’t like
to count a visit (NPS, WHS, new country, new continent, etc.) until I try feel
like I’ve visited that country. That’s
why National Parks need cigars and hikes, why airports don’t count, why I
include the Official meal. Stepping into
my hotel in Victoria Falls, it didn’t feel like I was in Africa. Even the falls themselves could have been
anywhere in the world. It just so
happened that they were in Africa. It
wasn’t until my adventure tonight that I truly felt like I was in Africa. Eating Pumbaa for dinner, what could be more
African than that?
After I closed, I
made my way back to the entrance, checking out a few more vistas along the way
(I have no fucking idea how I’m going to pick which few photos to include in
this entry. 11 people Liked my selfie in
front of the falls, which is an usually high number for me. There are so many other great photos. I headed to the entrance and got the
requisite souvenirs (keychain, t-shirt, and mug), all of which were overpriced. I then made a deal to purchase a
hyperinflated Zimbabwean banknote with literally 13 more digits on it than the
price I paid for it US dollars. Yes, I
got an exchange rate of 4 trillion to 1.
My friend was waiting for me, and he escorted me back to the hotel,
telling me where I could find souvenirs and game meat for dinner. I needed two more things from Zimbabwe: a
flag pin and replica of the falls. The
flag pin I found easily, but the replica, that was much harder. I am heading to Hwange National Park in the
morning, which should be a familiar name to anyone who has read anything about
Cecil the Lion, and I will not be back to Victoria Falls until around 1 or 2
PM. My plan is to then head straight to
Zambia, possibly changing first.
It is a
bit of conundrum for me, since I, as a rule, wear my suit whenever I cross an
international border, but the two activities I’m doing in Zambia (bungee
jumping and swimming) are not easily done in a suit. Hiking in a suit is one thing, swimming quite
another. Well, long story short, I found
two people willing to custom carve a replica of the falls for me. The price will be very reasonable by my
standards.
Alright, I’m really tired, so
I’m going to wrap up. It is not yet 10
PM local time, 4 PM New York time, but is also really the next day, since I
haven’t slept in a bed since Thursday night, and I haven’t had a decent night’s
sleep in almost a week. One of the
shopkeepers also set me up with a taxi, which was a big rip-off. Actually, all the tourist services here are a
rip-off, but I’d wager that a significant portion of this country’s tourist
income comes from the falls and related activities.
Boma was the name of the restaurant I wanted
to eat at, as they had a game buffet, which would have been perfect for my
first Official meal in Africa. The taxi
driver said I needed a reservation. It
seems like you need a reservation for everything here, taxis, restaurants, even
to go swimming. It turned out a wedding
party had booked Boma for the night, and it was unavailable, but he assured me
I could get any meat I wanted cooked fresh at the main restaurant. Okay, that would work. He made a reservation for right away.
As we drove, he pointed to some guinea fowl
on one side of the rode and some elephants on the other side. Wait.
Elephants? Would I like him to
pull over so that I could see the elephants?
Absofuckinglutely! There were
elephants. Like actual elephants. We got to the hotel, which had the
restaurants, and it was 6:10 PM. That
was when I got the bad news. The bar
stopped serving food, and the restaurant would not start serving food until 7
PM. Wait, what? I was absolutely starving. And I could not
wait that long to eat. I was going to
demand that my driver take me back to the hotel, but he left before we could
resolve everything.
They had some bar
snacks, which they gave me with my beer, and it was enough to tide me over
until dinner. My phone’s battery, that
was another story. You could see
elephants watering from the bar’s patio.
By the time I was done with my beer and snacks, it was getting dark, my
phone was almost dead, and it was almost 7 PM.
I had just enough battery for me food pictures and to post to social
media.
I didn’t see any appetizers I liked,
and she recommended the warthog from dinner.
It was not local, instead brought in from South Africa, but, still, it
was Pumbaa! I got a glass of South
African shiraz to go with it. The
warthog was delicious, but I only ate about half the sides and drank less than
half the glass of of wine. I then handed her the driver’s card when I asked for the check. Literally as an afterthought, I announced, “54,” indicating that I had now visited 54 countries. It seemed so insignificant compared to the new continent and the NWOTW. She took care of everything, and my car was
soon there, a different driver this time.
I lit up an OpusX on the ride. I got
to the hotel and relaxed for a bit as my phone charged.
I then went outside and found a nice lounge
chair with a view of the bridge, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I
will now close so that I can publish.
Reader, this will be the last entry I write as a 27-year-old. I only have 2 more years to finish my 30
Goals, and I like to be in good shape to do it.
The only minor snag is Babylon, for two reasons. First, no one really knows where the Hanging
Gardens of Babylon were, or if they even actually existed. Second, the areas where they are thought to possibly
be are probably two of the least safe places in the world. Will the security situation change enough in
2 years to make it feasible? I certainly
hope so.
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