I always look forward to those destinations that don’t even show up on the map. Those small middle of nowhere towns, where it’s quiet, secluded and forever peaceful. Zambia was the perfect treasure box of nowhere towns. I found mine by searching google maps on super zoom mode and following the main road across the country. Kalomo came up and turns out they even had an Airbnb host so off I went to the bus terminal for the trek towards what I hoped would be a little modest slice of paradise.
One of my rules is to never set the expectations to high, it allows for far too many disappointments, ESPECIALLY when travelling through Africa. It’s never on time, never as it looked in the photo, never includes what was described, there’s pretty much always something. So I convinced myself that so long as I had good wine, and enough trails to go explore then I would be as happy as a pig in shit.
I got off my bus – 1 hour late, because “nothing is ever on time” and hoped to see my host who was meant to pick me up. She was a complete breath of fresh air! Her smile alone made me want to extend my stay. A farm owner who has lived in Zambia for nearly 30 years with her husband, equally as fantastic who was born here. A farm so beautiful, most could only dream about, Tobacco farm at that, apparently it grows well here and they smoke a lot in China. They also had some cattle, pigs and the cutest little dogs even a pup.
The rain in Zambia just hasn’t stopped this year, and the bush is thriving. Thick, green, leafy goodness endless views. Trails that keep going and satisfy the curious adventurer with scenery thought to only exist in the genius, creative minds of painters. Water trickles from every hill and stone, natures water features hidden ever so lightly behind the branches, peacefully just waiting to be discovered.
I took the Kayak through the dam, without an ore but instead a borrowed, fallen branch from a nearby tree which worked just as well, if not better actually. A short refreshing swim, just the two of us, not another human in sight, just far enough hidden in Zambia.
The tick tock of the clocks seemed to have stopped, as I stood at the end of the farm smiling, I listened to the breeze as it passed through the leaves of these gigantic tress, light snorts from the pigs in the distance and the sound of cattle walking in fields. A moment I wished I could have bottled to keep, for me alone, forever.