I had been looking forward to Livingston and Victoria Falls since Husband had told me that we were coming to Zambia. In fact Victoria Falls had been on my Bucket List for some time. The tour we took on our honeymoon carried on (after we had left it) to South Africa via Victoria Falls. The photos our travel companions took were remarkable. I knew there wasn’t much water in them at the moment as it was only the beginning of the wet season but never the less we were going! We decided to go first thing in the morning when it was not so hot.

Our campsite just outside Livingston was very pleasant; we could watch the boys play in the swimming pool from our tent. For some mad reason I had been tricked into buying them water guns. I had given the boys strict instructions, no shooting strangers, no shooting randomly into the air, it must always hit each other or the water. I watched nervously from a distance, but they played beautifully and made me proud. No one else got shot… that was until a man who had been chatting to my boys asked if he could have a go. He shot his unsuspecting wife straight in the face. My boy’s expressions were a picture, a cross between horror and wanting desperately to laugh.

We spent a nice afternoon chilling and talking with fellow campers. The man who had befriended my two older boys entertained them, he encouraged them to scare off the monkeys that were trying to steal camper’s picnics and using our tent as a trampoline. After the stress of the border crossing it was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Up early the next morning we set off to the falls… we unloaded the boys in the carpark and then went to put our shoes on… but they were not in the car. Not fancying walking along a the ‘knife edge’ in flip flops we reloaded the kids and went back to the campsite. After our false start we finally managed to get through the entrance with shoes on about 30mins later.

There indeed wasn’t much water put nevertheless it was an impressive cliff face opposite us. I can’t imagine what it looks like full of water. Where there was water falling the spray jumped back up causing a double rainbow. The height the water was falling meant a constant rumble could be heard. The height of cliff next to the path we were walking on was making me a very jumpy mother, “slow down”, “don’t lean on that”. My stomach was in knots. But we managed to find a spot to sit where we could view the falls and the spray a couple of meters from the edge. I think the water fall was bit lost on the boys but they were impressed with the height. “Mummy can I throw a stick in”, “Mummy look at that tiny boat”… “Mummy can we go over that bridge”… So getting my nerves under control we walked onto the bridge. The boys ran fearlessly across after Daddy.

As we continued our wander around, we came across a view of the rail bridge. The boys squealed and jumped up and down as people far braver than me bungee jumped. The boys looked at me then knowing what my answer would be, turned to Daddy… “Can we have a go?”. We always wanted to bring up adventurous children, but bungee jumping at 3 and 5?!!!  Urm No! Daddy’s response, “Of course, one day” he says giving me a sly smile. I have no doubt as soon as they are old enough husband will do it with them!

(Quick paddle at the top of the falls? Why not!)

The rest of our stay in Livingston was spent exploring the town and its surroundings. We visited an incredibly run down train museum (the roof had even collapsed in one of the display buildings). But the boys enjoyed climbing on the steam engine relics from a by gone era. We had a delicious breakfast in the gorgeous gardens of Zig Zag. We shopped for souvenirs and bought the boys a Zambian football kit. We watched elephants roam by the campsite.

Our new years was spent drinking around the camp fire, enjoying the company of the water gun guy and his wife. Talking about surfing and diving and all the adventures we have had and hope to share with our family. Over the last few days this couple had taken on a grandparent role. Our kids are really missing attention from that generation.

Livingston had been a fab end to our adventure but now with our bank empty, our bodies a lot lighter and our car rolling side to side dramatically it was time to head back north towards home.

(Final sunset of the trip)

It took us two days driving; the worst of it of course the last stretch of the unforgettable road from hell. As we pulled into town shattered and exhausted we looked at each other and both silently had the same thought “Is this really were we live?” After all the beautiful sights we had experienced the last few weeks our run down remote outpost of Zambia felt and looked like a tip. Mine slag heaps and all!