It was now time to complete our loop around western Zambia by returning to Lusaka. We had hoped to get the train, but true to its reputation for woeful reliability, it turned out to have an unspecified mechanical problem and would not be leaving until the next day. So we went to the bus station and found a ‘Super Luxury’ bus leaving for Lusaka at 1pm. We had about an hour so we did a rapid shop before grabbing our stuff and rushing back to the bus station for quarter to, only to find that the bus was full. We watched helplessly as luxury rolled off into the distance, and with great regret spoke to the grinning minibus tout who we’d earlier spurned. We waited on board the minibus for (surely not!) an hour and a half before we set off for Lusaka.

It was a long slow journey, frequently interrupted by diversions for roadworks, and we closed our loop and arrived in Lusaka at 11.30pm. We got a taxi to the backpackers hostel and set up camp. We were going to leave very early the next morning, and for the sake of three hours sleep I couldn’t be bothered to get my sleeping bag out. Sadly it was a very chilly night and I regretted this by the morning.

Fearsomely early the next morning we were up and away. I was heading north for Mpulungu while John was heading east for Chipata, so we parted ways in the dark at one of Lusaka’s many bus stations. We were to meet again in Malawi in three weeks time.

Unfortunately I found out that the 6.30am bus I had been hoping to get no longer ran on Mondays, and I would have to get another bus to Kapiri Mposhi at 7.30am. No worries, I thought, we’ll be on the way by 9am. But sadly the Zambian hour and a half was to be painfully protracted this time - I’d not realised it was Heroes Day, a national holiday, until someone told me, and my heart sank when I saw a sign at the bus station, reading ‘To our esteemed customers, please note that Sundays and public holidays being slow days, We Do Not Observe Time’.

The next four hours really proved to me that time waits for no man except a Zambian bus driver, who is indeed capable of grandiosely ignoring an entire dimension. Still, it meant I could catch up on some sleep, and I fell into a deep slumber until the bus finally left just after 11am. It was a very comfortable bus, and we arrived at Kapiri at 1pm. Here I found my way onto a minibus going to Serenje, about half as far from Lusaka as I’d hoped to get, but as far as I could possibly get that day. I arrived at Serenje at 5.30pm, and walked to the Mapontela guest house to check in. It was colossally expensive by my standards, but I was knackered and I just wanted to lie down. When I got there I did just that, closed my eyes for a second and woke up the next morning.

Half way. 19 days done, 19 days still to go. I hoped I would get to Mpulungu by the end of the day. I left Serenje at 7.30am and walked two miles to the main road, from where northbound buses leave. All was quiet, and I waited on my own for a while, before a Zambian guy called Kevin joined me. A little while later, a Peace Corps volunteer called Bridget also joined us, and the three of us waited for a northbound lift. Kevin was heading for Mansa and soon got a lift, but sadly for me and Bridget there was nothing heading for Mpulungu (she was going to Kasama, which is on the way). Usually, apparently, there would be loads of stuff going, but this was Unity Day, another public holiday. If yesterday had been slow, it was bustling compared to the fourth day of a four day weekend.

So we sat by the roadside, eating chicken and sugar cane, and I managed to stab myself quite horribly in the hand cutting the cane. After three hours, we were really on the point of giving up totally and staying in Serenje again when a truck turned up that was going to Kasama. Relief! It’s a good road for much of the way north from Kasama and we covered the ground quickly. We stopped briefly in Mpika on the way, before heading on towards Kasama as night fell. By great good fortune as I was telling Bridget about what I do as an astronomer, the International Space Station sailed overhead.

We arrived in Kasama at about 8pm, and I discovered that there’s no budget accommodation there. The choice is between a couple of really nice but expensive places, or a couple of shockingly grotty and depressing dives, cheap but very bad value indeed. After a quick taxi tour around the options with a crazy taxi driver who had darkened windows and a nodding dog on the dashboard, I opted for the oddly named ‘Despot B&B’. It was a worrying place - I was showed to a room which had no lock on the door. If it had had a lock, the big hole in the door raised further questions about security. I pointed this out to the owner. ‘Don’t worry!’, he said, ‘I’m the security guard as well!’, but I wasn’t altogether reassured. But jamming some pieces of sugar cane in the hole and moving the bed up against the door I managed to convince myself it was an alright place to stay.

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