After a week spent at Muzula Lodge in Lusaka, it was time to make the long journey north to Kitwe where  we’ll be living for the next 11 weeks.

I was excited to get going –  I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the journey (travel sickness, bumpy roads and Zambian driving don’t make for a particularly good mixture) – but I’m excited to see some more of this beautiful country!

We were due to set off early in the morning to try to limit the time spent traveling during the hottest part of the day, but that didn’t go to plan (as most things don’t here!). We woke up to no water. Not a drop anywhere. Apparently water rationing has just kicked in – not great timing for us! Not showering for a day I can cope with, but not being able to go to the toilet, now that’s a different matter! After a good while spent with our legs crossed, a few buckets of water did miraculously appear from somewhere and we were able to get going.

After breakfast we loaded our bags onto the back-seats of the small, rickety bus that was somehow supposed to transport all 19 of us and our luggage to Kitwe. (I’m learning that Zambian vehicles are like the tardis  – somehow there’s always more space for things (and people) to be squished into.) The bags were stacked perilously high, and Jess and I, who somehow ended up sat right in front of them, weren’t convinced by the driver’s confidence that they would stay in place…

… and we were right. A couple of hours into the journey the tower of suitcases began to teeter. Cue several minutes of frantic re-shuffling as we tried desperately to stop the bags from decapitating us. Death by suitcase would certainly be a different way to go, but not one we fancied experiencing. Every few hours another bag would work itself free and start inching towards our heads. We spent most of the journey looking anxiously behind us or standing on the seats, bracing the bags every time we came to a particularly bad section of road. At least I was distracted from my travel sickness!

Another hairy moment came when a huge container fell off the lorry traveling in front of us. It bounced along, coming to a halt only metres in front of our bus. The lorry driver didn’t even seem to notice anything had fallen off…

Despite the drama, I did have the chance to catch glimpses of the Zambian countryside and small towns as they flashed pass. It was fascinating! For miles and miles there was nothing but dusty scrubland and bush with only a few thatched huts dotted here and there. Then suddenly a town would appear with all the hustle and bustle of people going about their daily lives. Vivid, hand-painted signs advertising anything and everything from live chickens for sale, to hair salons, mechanics and small shops were on every fence and wall. They, and their slogans are one of the things I’ll remember most about this trip. A particular favourite was a sign advertising roof tiles, the slogan read: “A home without Harvey’s roof tiles is like a life without friendship”, now that’s advertising!

There were small markets with stalls piled high with watermelons and pomegranates and huge bunches of the smallest (and apparently sweetest) bananas. The vibrance and colours of these fruit markets were quite something and made Romford market pale in comparison. Scenes like this, along with countless half-finished buildings and lines of brightly coloured washing strung up between homes, were repeated throughout our six-hour journey.

Lots of people dread the traveling aspect of a trip, and whilst traveling is often long and tiring, I relish the opportunity to see things you might otherwise not get the chance to. The journey to Kitwe was definitely not the smoothest or most comfortable, but it was a great way to see parts of Zambia we wouldn’t otherwise have seen and I loved it!

Thanks for reading, til’ next time,

Abs xo

P.S. Thanks to Jess Richardson for capturing the photos used here!