474km of character building (also known as Livingstone to Lusaka)

What we thought would be a relatively easy travel day - it’s only 474km from Livingstone to Lusaka, quickly turned into our first real lesson in Zambian travel.

Not long after leaving Livingstone, feeling organised and quietly confident, we hit our first toll gate. Simple enough… or so we thought.

Cash only.
Kwacha only.

We, of course, had neither - just USD in our wallets and that slightly sinking feeling that comes with realising you’ve missed something obvious. In hindsight, we probably could have asked around at the toll gate and made a plan - exchanged some dollars at a (less-than-ideal) rate and carried on. But, driven by our fiercely independent mindset (and perhaps a touch of stubbornness), we chose a different route.

We pulled over to the side of the road and stayed put, while my parents - who were driving our car down - turned around and headed all the way back to Livingstone to draw cash.

Lesson one: always carry cash. Always have kwacha.

By then, it had already started to turn into a long day. What should have been straightforward was slowly stretching out, kilometre by kilometre.

A true lifesaver along the way is Coffeeberry Farm in Mazabuka. It’s well worth the stop. Set in a beautiful garden, it’s the kind of place where everyone can reset for a bit. There’s a jungle gym for the kids, and fresh, wholesome food.

And thank goodness we did stop because we had completely underestimated the slowness of the route. The road conditions are actually pretty good; everything just moves at its own pace.

Our next crucial error? Trying to make it through Kafue on a public holiday… in the afternoon.

I didn’t know you could move that slowly.

Traffic crawled. Patience wore thin. A mild existential crisis set in - what exactly are we doing here?

My parents, more high-end lodge than rugged African adventurer and already quietly questioning our life choices (and where their darling grandsons were about to live), added a touch of horror humour to the day.

A slightly panicked call came through: “Joanne… they’re skinning a goat next to the car.”

Kafue was absolutely humming - loud, chaotic, full of movement and life. Not exactly the calm, gentle introduction to our new home we had imagined.

Safe to say, it wasn’t the easiest start to arriving in Lusaka.
And just like that, lesson two was learned: never attempt Kafue on a public holiday during peak traffic hours.

If you have to drive through Kafue, tackle it early in the morning.