Another very early morning. Another bus trip. Livingstone to Lusaka. Only 400km away, but with the state of the roads for the first 100km, it was a 7-8 hr trip. Joy, oh joy. Some had warned of potholes big enough to drive into. Dramatic license, I thought. But we skirted a few of those on the trip up. The rest we drove through at pace!

In true African style, don't repair nor despair, just make another road around the potholes! Brilliant! Never mind that African bus drivers have three speeds:

Stop (not preferred. Only use when absolutely necessary. Like food and toilet stops for driver, passengers make do ; and when trying to co-erce more passengers onto the bus because buses only leave when full.)

Fast (Good, but as long as you are going twice as fast as anything else on the road that is motorised.)

Warp speed (the best. Wheels leave the ground on bumps, two wheels remain of the ground as you corner, potholes have no bearing because you fly over them or through them. The jump into hyperspace is never far away!)

But even bus drivers must heed the beast called the traffic jam borne of too many vehicles, too few roads, very little maintenance and a corrupt police force! It took just over an hour to travel the last 5km!

To: a pink tiled hostel room, holely mossie net, a busted lock on the bedroom door and cups of tea that took 40min to arrive and a neighbourhood that required every nightwatchman to be armed with a shotgun behind steel gates!

Eish….We had arrived in truly black Africa!