I am at a loss of where to start regarding Victoria Falls. I think I'll start with the splendor of the falls themselves, and then cover the rest of the two days' activities. As context, we stayed at a hotel literally a five minute walk to the gates of the falls (where we were warned about entering with our popsicles because baboon gangs would likely attack us), a six minute walk to the first glimpse (which hit me in the chest with its out of no where scale and splendor and inspired Dez to remark, "Mom, I think I just held my breath for like two seconds"), a ten minute walk to the knife edge bridge (from which you can look directly across at a wall of incredible geology, streams of the most beautiful waterfalls imaginable, and a rainbow that inspired Dez to observe, "Well, now we know where the pot of gold is"), and 11 minutes to an observation point at which you see the scoping scale of the full length of the falls clear to Zimbabwe and inspired Dez to say, matter of factly and with a shy smile, "Holy shit, Mom." To which I grinned and responded, "You know what buddy, you can never say it again, but in this case it really applies."
Victoria Falls is one of the seven wonders of the world. We stood across from it on Tuesday while following a charming path of trails through speckled shade and foliage, and on Wednesday we stood atop it. Literally. When you enter the park's small gate (just large enough for a small desk with a paper register to sign and a small bench) you have the choice of going right or left. Left, which we did on Tues, takes you past a statue and darling gift stand with cold sodas in reused glass bottles, fabulous baseball hats with the Zambian flag on them (which Dez proudly sported thereafter), postcards (that we sent the next day to friends for whom we had/ knew their addreses), and a splattering of trinkets including a miniature guitar made from a beer can we almost bought for Jer. It cost $8. I kid you not. In most countries it would have been $0.40 with any effort at bartering - Zambia is crazy expensive.
Continuing on to the left you pass impressively clean-appearing bathrooms and immediately thereafter are on the charming set of trails that lead the viewer opposite the falls as far as the land mass will go before turning into a plunging drop off and then, up a dramatic ledge on the opposite side of the channel, Zimbabwe.
If, however, you go to the right, which we did Wed, you receive the same warning about baboons and food and then follow signs to the "upper falls." This is also a charming path one is encouraged to skip down with excitement (we did - there's almost no one on any of these paths). Two minutes later you find yourself looking lengthwise at the falls. 30 seconds after that you come to a pull out on the trail the leads like an invitation right onto the (this time of year) very dry river bed atop the furthest west edge of the falls. There's no hesitation to continue right onto the dry river bed and walk and jump rock to rock along the land atop the falls. It looks like the best tidepooling you've ever seen (only without water in most tidepools) and we excitedly scampered out after several groups in the distance clearly following a hired tour guide to Livingstone Island. Their presence, combined with having seen people on the upper falls the previous day, led one to believe that moving gracefully along the dry river bed to where water actually flowed and plunged over the edge was sensible, even, if you will, the big benefit of seeing the falls in the dry season.
As it turns out, there is a small green sign 50 feet further up the formal path we'd been on that cheerfully suggests one be careful of "sudden bursts of water" and that the reader should keep trash close. Apparently trash washing over the falls is more critical as a risk to point out than children washing over the falls. (People do seem to heed this trash warning, however, as there are some, but not a lot of plastic bottles in the river bed - Dez asked me to stop picking them up when we realized there were more than a couple, but it's still not a lot.) About 100 yards further up the path there turns out to be a larger sign (also green, like all other informational signs) that says that crossing the river bed is strictly prohibited and is done at one's own risk.
I am a supporter of personal responsibility, but if sudden bursts of water that risk a mother and young son being swept over the top of one of the seven wonders of the world do truly happen, it would be helpful to at least put the sign in red. Maybe even copy it at a few other key spots. In retrospect, I do recall vaguely reading something in my guidebook in the hotel in Dubai at 3 a.m. (as I lay awake for the rest of the night because I was terrified I would sleep through the alarm and we would miss our flight) about a diversion dam the Government of Zambia had constructed at the far west side of the falls, but at the time it didn't seem like the unexpected releases of water from the dam would really be relevant to our trip.
Bringing us back to the walk, I have some outstanding photos from literally within feet of water cascading over Victoria Falls. Dez proudly led us hopping rock to rock over dry river bed out to the gentle water that misleadingly and lazily meanders to the edge before somehow turning into a shocked gravity-heavy free fall. Sharing a minor fear of heights, we agreed on a rock that was close enough to the edge for a dramatic look at the falls. Based on the expressions of the people on the opposite bank, it was a dramatic view for them as well, but in every way was safe and was a reasonable place to stand from our vantage point. (One of the amazing features of Victoria falls is that the people looking across at the Falls are almost at the same height as the people standing on top of the falls, and you're not that far away from each other because the plummet is so sharp and the gulley created very long from end to end, but very short across. Standing there was magical and exhilarating and rejuvenating, and sharing it with my son was beyond words.
I looked at Dez at that minute and said, "When you're grown up, you're going to remember standing with me at the top of Victoria Falls," and at that moment the full weight of the trip hit me. We turned to go back and I filled my hands with water from the Zambezi just as it made it last pause in a pool before becoming Victoria Falls and splashed it on my face and it was unlike any other river water I've ever touched....I believe because that river is magical and I was feeling particularly spiritual and sentimental, but if you're going to be cynical it's because my rivers at home don't have droppings from elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and exotic birds (and if we're being really cynical, humans).
Repeating our dry tidepool hopping back to shore we were flagged down by two fellows in green, one with a gun slung over his shoulder who approached us, and the other who sat down a ways off looking bored. Still unaware of the "sudden bursts" sign, the gun toting official explained that we had the IQ of approximately an ant and that at any moment the Government could have released water from a diversion dam, which he pointed out was immediately upstream of where we were standing. Granted, telling someone they are in the path of immediate mortal danger is somewhat watered down by delivering the message while standing in said path. The fact that multiple tour groups had been traipsing nearby him also made the dramatic statement a bit questionable, but the presence of a gun made up for the lack of reason in his argument. After profuse apologies and assurances that I truly did have the IQ of a squid, he let us go with a laugh and the offhand remark, "If you'd had the other park pass that says not to deviate from marked trails I would have arrested you."
Nothing says team player like being told by your six year old, "Well, at least we know I wouldn't have been arrested because I'm too young." Over a cold Coca Cola and cold Sprite back at the gift stand (relevant because we don't usually drink soda and Dez has had probably 45 on this trip) the proprietor rolled his eyes and assured me there was never any risk to us of being swept over the falls. That didn't stop me from aging a year that night as I lay in bed picturing a sudden torrent of water heading toward us and sending us over the edge.
It seems ridiculous to skim over the other activities because each could be its own email, but at the risk of forgetting details I'll at least highlight certain features:
- A river safari the night we arrived (2 hour small boat trip on the Zambezi River above the falls). We saw crockodiles, hippos, elephants, bee eaters (brilliantly colored birds that nest in the sand banks), other lovely birds and, as Dez pointed out, humans. This latter point will turn out to be a recurrent one and was born out of me pointing out a group of children collecting water for their village while on the cheetah safari. Proof that while you can control the message, you can't always control the interpretation.
- Being mezmerized by the beauty of the Zambezi, which twists in a maze among small and larger islands and channels above the Falls.
- Seeing our second African sunset, which truly is such a distinct view - a perfectly round and gleamingly deep orange/red circle sliding below the horizon. Impossible to mistake it for another location as it matches all quintessential images of African sunsets I've ever seen.
Dez saying he really hoped we'd see a crockodile and one appearing on queue.
- Stumbling across wild zebras within arms reach regularly on paths at and near the hotel, which was located in the boundaries of the protected park area.. They nonchalantly use the lawn sprinklers as drinking fountains.
- Spending time with Keovan (love his name), a local bead artist and getting charming little presents for Josie.
- Watching Dez learn to navigate the craft stalls just outside the entrance to Victoria Falls and participate in bartering. By the end of the day he'd spent the money Nana sent him for the trip and was beaming from the experience of dealing in a foreign currency himself.
- Showing great restraint myself in bartering so as not to horrify Dez, and laughingly getting vendors down to a reasonable, but not rock bottom price (aren't you proud that I learned to back off, Jer?).
- Striking up a rapport with the segway tour guide (the motorized two-wheel stand up scooter like things used by street patrol), who let Dez try it out for free because his minimum age is usually ten. Dez looked incredibly proud at having mastered the skill and won praise from the guide and a table full of his previously bored Zambian friends.
- Dez declaring Wednesday the "second best day of my life because I got the ride a segway." He also got to stand on top of Victoria Falls with his mom that day. (Apparently the best day of his life remains driving his own lego vehicle on the track at Legoland. His third favorite day was, "Hmmm, what was it again? Oh well.")
- Letting Dez stay up late to honor his request to do something grown ups do, "like sit by the pool at night and order a milkshake." There was a band, pretty lighting and we did just that. (Turns out accommodations at Victoria Falls are either dirtbag party places or higher end, so we opted for the latter.)
Five days down, six to go. Maybe we'll find one to replace the current, nebulous third favorite day in Dez's life :) It's worth saying that despite the impression the segway made, he definitely has an enormous amount of thoughts and impressions running through his head. There's a very good chance he'll become a sanitation engineer as he's now consumed with ideas on how to better develop waste disposal facilities (which grew from his surprise at seeing piles of trash being burned roadside and then realizing through further discussion that our out of site out of mind approach of landfills and incinerators isn't without fault).
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