The second night on the train was a little calmer than the first. I woke up around 8:30 am and fortunately, Dorothy reminded me to change the time on my watch since Zambia was one hour behind Tanzania. Again, breakfast was served in our compartment and it wasn’t long anymore until we would reach Kapiri Mposhi, our final destination. When I looked out of the window this morning, I noticed the change in landscape compared to Tanzania: Zambia was more mountainous and somehow greener than Tanzania. Predominant colours in the plains of Tanzania had been all shades of yellow, mainly the dry and pale type. Here in Zambia vegetation turned lush again. On the other hand, people in the villages and their dwellings clearly looked poorer than those on the Tanzanian side of the border.

Shortly before we arrived, I actually witnessed another scam on the train (following the visa blackmailing Melanie had experienced). A man in a white smock and with a paper clipboard showed up in our compartment and asked whether Melanie and I, both obviously white foreigners, had a valid yellow fever certificate. I was the first to answer and said yes. He asked if he could see it. I had barely leaned forward to take it out of my backpack when he mumbled something like “it’s okay” and disappeared. As it turned out, Melanie was lucky because she didn’t have the required vaccination and although we both doubted that the man was a genuine officer, he probably would have made her pay another fortune to let her pass.

It was around 10 am when we finally reached Kapiri Mposhi. I was happy to arrive but also sad to get off the train which had been the most comfortable means of transport in a looong time. Apart from the frequent night stops, the ride was really relaxing and I can only recommend it to anyone ever travelling on this route! At the train station in Kapiri Mposhi, my feeling of having been able to escape from the world for as long as I was on the train, got even stronger. Getting off the train was like plunging back into African chaos and confusion... My “mission” was to find a bus that would go to Lusaka, the country’s capital. You wouldn’t think that should be difficult at the final stop of an international train connection in the middle of nowhere. Well, don’t forget, this was Africa! After running around for a bit, trying to find a reliable source of information and a vehicle that looked safe enough for me to get onboard, I finally managed to squeeze into a middle sized bus where I shared the last row of narrow seats with Melanie from my train compartment, two Dutch girls and seven tons of our combined luggage. Corine and Annelies were both my age and on their way to Victoria Falls. The bus left Kapiri Mposhi around 11 am and the ride was supposed to take approximately three hours. Well, I guess it could have, if the bus hadn’t broken down after only 20 minutes on the road...

Yep, we had a break-down and I couldn’t help but smile about this classic situation that could have come directly out of a movie: a run-down looking bus stuck in the middle of nowhere, 30-something passengers standing or sitting on the side of the road, desperate for some shade in the heat of the burning mid-day sun, some guys standing around the detached right rear wheel, trying to fix the defect. It took us foreigners quite a while to understand what the problem was but something appeared to be wrong with the suspension. Well, what can I say? It was f***ing hot but I somehow liked that I experienced even this classic occurrence on my journey.

In total, we had to wait two hours before we could continue our ride after another bus had passed and luckily carried the required replacement piece. In the meantime, we had already considered all sorts of alternative means of transport (which there weren’t really any) and I was glad to have the Dutch girls around. At least, I was not alone and we could encourage each other. Last but not least, it seems that my angels had to work hard but they succeeded in putting the bus back on the road. We finally arrived in Lusaka around half past four and Corine, Annelies and I decided to look for accommodation together. I must admit that I had reached the point where I really appreciated company. Travelling on your own is tiring and meeting people who are ‘on the same wave length’ is rare and especially welcome. We had a map of Lusaka and picked a hostel called ‘ChaChaCha’. It didn’t seem to be very far from the bus station, so we decided to walk. Well, when we finally arrived there (after walking a much longer distance than it looked on the map!), it turned out that they were fully booked. We looked up another hostel and went there, just to find that it was in VERY shabby conditions and had no electricity. If nothing else, the bathrooms were a definite ‘no go’. So we went all the way back to the ChaChaCha in order to try a new hostel close-by. I have no idea why we didn’t do that straight away instead of going all the way to the other place. All I knew was that I was close to a collapse after carrying around my 30 kg luggage for an hour! As luck would have it, this place had room for us and in the end, Ku-Omboka Backpackers turned out to be an excellent choice.
After checking into our room, a mixed dormitory with eight beds in a separate cottage next to the main building, we had dinner served by the hostel’s kitchen. We even ran into Melanie again who ended up staying at the same place. Another person I met tonight was Steffi, a 20-year old German girl who did a six-month internship in Zambia. She normally lived in the countryside where she worked for a school project but came to Lusaka for a couple of days to meet with someone from her internship organisation. I heard her arriving and talking to the man at the reception with an unmistakable German accent. I can’t remember how we started talking but we both were so glad to speak to someone in our mother tongue! Both Melanie and Steffi ended up staying in the same dormitory with us.

This was the evening when the UK soccer team got kicked out of the Euro Cup by Portugal and we all watched the game on TV in the common room before going to bed. I had been asleep for not very long after the game when I woke up in the middle of the night and saw that the door of our dormitory cabin was wide open. I was already half asleep again when my brain realised that this was probably not the way it was supposed to be, so I forced myself to get up and closed the door. While doing so, I saw that Melanie’s bed was empty. Not thinking very much further, I assumed she had gone to the bathroom in the main building and probably forgot to close the door. Soon, I was back to sleep. At 2:30 am, however, me and the rest of the dormitory woke up very suddenly when somebody switched on the light and loud voices interrupted our sleep. It was Melanie and the hostel’s night watchman. Melanie was almost in tears and obviously very upset. It turned out that she had found herself “waking up” in the streets of Lusaka with no idea where she was or how she got there. She was dressed and wearing socks but no shoes, her hand was bruised and she had a complete blackout between the time she went to bed and when she came to conscience again. She was convinced someone had put something in her drink earlier tonight and that she had been drugged. At this point, she also believed that she had lost her passport (which turned up in her bag later) and she heatedly asked the night watchman to contact the hostel’s manager. The night watchman on the other hand, bluntly accused her of being drunk and refused to wake up the manager.

Well, you can imagine we were all pretty confused, not to mention dead tired in the middle of the night. Yes, Melanie had had a few glasses of wine that night but that did not make her story less credible than his. The argument between the night watchman and Melanie, understandably scared and nervous but a little hysterical too, dragged on without going anywhere. So in the end, I could convince her to go to bed and sort things out with the manager tomorrow. She finally agreed and we could get back to sleep, although I admit that the night had got a bitter taste for all of us. What I hadn’t considered when telling Melanie to postpone talking to the manager was that she had to leave very early the next morning because she, Corine and Annelies were taking a bus to Livingstone at 6 am. Apparently, she had forgotten too because she left without ever speaking to him – and without paying her bill...