Mark and I crash out for a couple hours in the backseat. Wake up and we’re in Kalomo. Like Livingstone, this place is bustling. People everywhere. Pushing carts of grain sacks and produce. Carrying things on their heads. Little kids trying to sell some sort of beans. Zambia has a different feel than the other countries. Can’t quite place it yet. Clothing seems more varied and intentional. Looks like the Chinese have a strong influence here. Trucks with Mandarin lettering. Ads for a Kung Fu energy drink.

Might as well top up the tanks in case we can’t find any diesel in the Kafue. There’s always someone eyeing up the ladder and shovel on the side of the truck. Every time we park somewhere. Trying to figure out how they’re attached and how quick they can be snagged. I’m surprised we still have them tbh.

We stop to get out some more kwacha for park fees and whatever else we’ll have to cover once we get into the Kafue. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find another honor bar.” “Ohhh that would be greeeeeaat!”

There’s a persistent young entrepreneur hanging around the truck with a basket of nuts and a bag of water. “Alright kid, how much?” He holds up one finger and then makes a zero. Ten? The kid smiles and nods. “Ok, deal.” Bag of nuts and a water. “Oh it’s a combo deal.” I get another ten note (fifty cents), “Ok, one more.” The kid smiles and hands over the goods.

We get back on the road towards the Southern gate into the park. After Kalomo the condition of the roads go downhill pretty quick. Not far from the bustling little city and we’ve got middle of nowhere vibes on jacked up roads. Random little villages. Huts and small brick shelters. Kids by the road waving as we go by.

“Deflate the tires?” “Ya, looks like it’s gonna be dirt for days.”

Further up the road we come to… “Ok, what the hell is that? Can we cross that?” There’s a narrow strip of dirt propped up by logs. Some sort of makeshift bridge. “I’ll hop out and take a look.” Drisdelle and I go scout it out.

“Haha wow.” “It’s narrow but doable.” “Sturdy logs. Looks like it will hold.”

Just before the park we come to a nice looking village. A couple wooden houses. Soccer field. Handful of cars. We come up to the Kafue Dundumwezi gate. “There’s no one in there.” “Hmmmmm gate looks open.” “Some dumb-dumbs left the Dundumwezi gate open?” “Har!”

We pull the gate aside and drive in. A man comes around the corner. Here we go. I hop out and he comes right over and shakes my hand. “My name is John.” “Oh, well my name is also Jon. Sort of.” He motions to the little building, “Let’s go to the office.” “Sure thing.”

I sit with John at a tiny desk in a tiny room. He pulls some very official looking permits out of the desk and points out the fees. It’s an expensive park compared to the others we’ve been through. Twenty each, per day, and fifteen for the car. 95 per day. Wow. We’ve gotten used to dropping 25 bucks at the gates to cover the whole duration.

John makes a mild attempt at small talky conversation but seems completely disinterested. All good, let’s get some info. “Where’s a good spot to camp inside the park?” He recommends Nanzhila. It’s just off the lake. We get everything squared away and wish John well.

Off to Nanzhila. The road is super narrow and branches are whipping the car. Not as bad as some parts of Chobe but it is a little claustrophobic. Finally it opens up and the road gets a little better. It’s all open grasslands but there are literally zero animals around. That’s weird. Looks like there are fall colors in the trees here.

Mark and I have a threesome in the back seat.

The road is decent now. Peter has it up around 70. Just cruising. Grouse on the road are really the only thing holding us up. “These dummies don’t get off the road until you almost kill them.” Lots of wood lying around. We stop to pick some up. There isn’t much in the roof box so we fill it up.

Still not a ton to look at. Occasionally there’s a twisty tree that looks like you’re wringing out a towel. We come to a section of burnt grasslands. Find a log still burning. Whole areas of southern Kafue look like they’ve recently been on fire. “Might explain the lack of animals if it recently lit up.” “Lightning strike maybe? Or poachers trying to herd animals?”

As we get nearer to the lake animals finally start showing up. Some Hartebeests go jumping passed in front of us with 3 little ones. Then some water bucks a little further ahead.

“Only took three hours!” “Ya, super weird.” “Gotta say. Pretty disappointing park so far.” “All the animals are probably up by the water features.” “Hope so. This Southern part is a total bust.”

We get to Nanzhila, park and go into the registration hut. Meet an older lady who seems nice and polite. We ask if we can camp up with the truck somewhere. She seems hesitant at first but then smiles and says it’s 20 a night per person. Man, Zambia is quadrupling the cost of everything. Glad we picked up a bundle of kwacha in Kalomo.

We ask her about routes through the park and other places to stay. She recommends a place called Kashabushi for tomorrow. Says it’s a nice camp. They’re working on a new wide road that we can take tomorrow to the lake.

She gives us directions to the camp. Apparently it’s down a side road. “Look for the third big cluster of trees.” “Ok, sounds good.” “Just stay in your camp. Don’t walk around.” Ok, she seems nervous about that. Interesting. “Yes of course. We’ll just stick by the truck.” “Yes, thank you. Enjoy Kafue! Goodbye.” “Bye, thanks for everything!”

We get back to Belinda and follow the side road. “I wonder if there have been incidents or something.” “Ya, she seemed worried about giving us the camp and then making sure we don’t leave it.” “We’ve got Mosi and a machete, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” “Sun’s going down over there.” “Perfect timing on getting to camp.”

We find the cluster of trees the lady had mentioned and pull in. We start to get the truck set up and break out the table and chairs. A guy with an AK-47 strolls into camp. This outta be good.

He shakes all of our hands and gets our names. He introduces himself as Marky. “Oh wow, my name is also Mark.” “My namesake!” Extra long handshake for Mark. A second guy with an AK-47 wanders in too. He builds a little basket of grass and wood for a fire. Lights it no problem.

“Thanks. What animals are there around here?” “Wildebeest.. hartebeest.. sable.. black sable.. ahh elephants.” Marky points down at the ground, “There were Lions here last night.” “Lions?” I point at the rifle, “Do you have an extra one of those you can leave with us tonight?” The joke lands like an anvil. Ok, all business then.

Marky leans his AK against the truck and takes some papers out of his bag. He puts them on the hood. I go over to see what’s up. Apparently there is some other permit or levy that we have to pay for. It’s $35. Ahh ok. Seems sketch but I don’t think I’ll argue with two armed men. I hand him the amount in kwacha and he pockets it.

“Thank you guys. Where’s my namesake? Mark.” Marky rushes over to vigorously shake Marks hand again. “Thanks Mark. Have a good night!” “Great to meet you!” And the two of them walk off through the woods. The second guy comes back a couple minutes later to sheepishly pick up the AK-47 he left on the ground by the fire.

“$115 per night to stay here? Sheesh. I can get a sex hotel in Japan cheaper than that.” “So was that extra permit for protection or something?” “I dunno. They had papers to make it look legit but we’re probably just paying them off in some way.” “Ya, that’s the feeling I got too.” “Well if they fend off an animal attack with those AK-47s in the middle of the night, I’d say that’s thirty-five bucks well spent.” “Bro.. we have gin and a machete.” “Yes yes. What could go wrong?”

We get camp set up. We’re alone in the wild again. Feels good. We kick it around the table with some Mosi. Drisdelle gets a little chutney, hot sauce, cheese and cracker plate going. Nando’s XX hip hop sauce. Not too bad. Mark opens a white wine for the charcuterie portion of the evening.

After the wine I take on bartending duties and mix up some negronis. Drisdelle somehow knocks the paper towel into the hand sanitizer which hits the shot glass into the kitchen knife and that sails off the table and nails me in the shin.

“Holy shit! Sorry man.” “Wow. Got the blunt side. That was close.” “Fuck sorry, dude.” “No worries. Could have been worse.”

I dole out the negronis and put on a smooth jazz playlist. “Lions love jazz.” Mark has a concerned look on his face. “You alright there, man?” “I think I took an Ambien instead of an energy pill.” “Haha wow. Is that negroni going to just knock you out?” “Fuck maybe. I’m gonna fight my way through it.” “We’ll put Ambien in any leftover meat and sedate whatever animals are around.” “Haha show our prizes to Marky in the morning.”

We pool all of our leftovers from the Zambezi cafe and Zest together for a leftover bonanza. Mix the kudu stew together with the kudu and rice dish from Zest earlier today. This turns it into more of a jambalaya. Portuguese chicken from Zambezi Cafe.

We pull a second little fire off to the side and toss some short ribs on the grill for good measure too.

Mark digs up a Pinotage for dinner and another epic camp meal is complete. The chutney and various sauces we picked up make a dipping sauce confluence in the center of my plate of Michelin quality.

“Well fellas, we nailed it again.” “Yup, this is the best. Hopefully we’ll see more game tomorrow now that we’re up by the lake.” Peter takes a minute to look up at the heavens. “And look at all the stars!” “Damn. That’s incredible.” “This is epic. I’m going to set up a long exposure shot.”

Peter’s pictures come out insanely awesome.

After dinner we decide it’s time for more negronis. Tired of lame jazz, I put on some Darkside. Mark’s over to help. “Darkside and the Milky Way is a brilliant mix.” “There’s some Aperol here. Toss that in too?” “Why stop at 3 alcohols when you can mix four?” Hmmm not bad. Touch sweeter and not as balanced, but not bad.

Mark eventually loses his fight to the Ambien and hits the attic. Drisdelle isn’t too far behind. This leaves Peter, me and a machete to get extra silly around the camp fire. There are some spooky sounds out in the periphery now. “Bigger fire?” “Oh for sure. Check this out.”

I go off to the trees and gather up a bundle of leaves. Toss them on the fire. They light up like crazy. We can see past the truck now. We’re giggling. Peter goes to get some more. “Fuck man, it’s scary out of the light of the fire!” “Don’t die over there getting leaves! Take the machete.”

We burn all the leaves in Nanzhila. Primal natures take over. The fire rages up into the clear night sky. Sparkle and fade. We repeat this until four in the Disco.