South Africa: safari, Mandela, black and white… Further everywhere!

10 March 2014 Travel time: with 25 December 2013 on 15 January 2014
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I admire very few people in my life. And it's not that I'm a cynic and incapable of rejoicing in other people's achievements, it's just that very few people know how to properly manage the wealth and power that has suddenly fallen on them.

For example, what is happening now in Russia? The same force does not want to lose power. Unfortunately, there are many such examples in the history of our long-suffering Motherland. In general, I clearly separate the concepts of “state” and “Motherland” for myself. These are different realities, in my opinion. And what is important for the first is completely indifferent to the second.


Sometimes you ask yourself the question - what would I do in place....? On the ellipsis, you, dear reader, can put absolutely any name that is meaningful to you. And here it is important to understand where you live - in the "state" or in the "Motherland". Written crookedly, but only to convey the lexical meaning. Now, if you are not in power, you are nobody. The question is do you want to be "nobody". Me not. My head won't let me do that. And sometimes you want. . . I know this is a manifestation of weakness, but. . . we are all people with our weaknesses, virtues, shortcomings, thoughts, experiences and many other attributes of the neurotic head of modern Russian reality.

When I was planning a trip to South Africa and neighboring African countries, my life flowed in line with which I had long been accustomed. I won’t say that absolutely everything suited me, but I had enough for bread with condensed milk. At the moment, namely on July 23 of the thirteenth year, everything ended. The budget curtailed funding for a number of projects on which I became so dependent that I could not imagine life without them. Autumn was also not easy - the notorious law on the Russian Academy of Sciences was issued, which nullified the already meaningless existence of modern Russian science. Well, all this literally fell on no construction season.

So what to do? Most of the trip was paid for, I did not change anything. The difficulties were in choosing the most convenient route: either there were no suitable tickets, or the route did not line up, there were downtime, or it was not possible to visit one or another attraction. In general, there is not much information about Africa on the web. Australian and English forums help, where you can at least learn something.

So, the route is like this. Johannesburg is a city of nothing, one day maximum. Transit point for all trips in South Africa and neighboring countries. Cape Town - a day for the city, a day for the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Point, another 2 days for the road of gardens. We decided to visit Zimbabwe, see Victoria Falls, Chobe Park in Botswana, Kruger Park in South Africa and Zambia. At the end - rest in the local Sochi - Durban.


Flights. There - only on Emirates. High, as always, the level of service, reasonable prices, chic boards, safe. A round-trip ticket will cost 30.000 rubles per person in economy class, 120.000 rubles in business class. We purchased a mixed option - short flights from (and to) Dubai were flying in economy class, to a distant site - in South Africa - in business class. There are many alternative carriers on the route (Qatari Airways, Etihad, Lufthansa, Turkishi and others), but either prices are high, or long connections, or an inconvenient schedule.

"Inner". Of the worthy only South African Airways is the national airline of South Africa, it has a code-share agreement with Emirates, which allows through check-in for each other's flights. The prices are reasonable, for example, a flight Joburg - Cape Town costs 3.000 rubles if booked early. The boards are good, new, the service is a solid four. Business class is rather weak, but more on that below.

In general, by the end of December I was exhausted. Both physically and mentally. My bosses, in the hope of saving money, postponed the corporatiffffff from December 21 - Saturday, to Wednesday - the 25th. And I just need to fly away. For political reasons, my failure to appear was assessed as a great betrayal and was punishable in Stalin's time by execution. I had to go.

At 5:30 pm I left the house. He left his suitcases to other members of our crew in order to carry around with them surrounded by drunken colleagues simply “not a buzz”. Our team sat in a modest restaurant in the Dinamo metro area. The mood is winter, New Year's Eve, but dull. And everyone. Although the year as a whole the company played well. After a couple of hours of fun, I took a taxi to Domodedovo. The more often I fly from this airport, the more I understand that I don’t like it - flights to guest workers of all nationalities, crowds of “regionals” shouting “Tagiyil”, bales and “Back to 90eeeeee” clothing style irritate the average passenger. Vanity - in a word, there is nothing to add.

At the airport, we went through all the procedures quickly, so that your obedient servant checked in for the flight in advance. At the counters, a nice lady gave us tags for checked baggage to Johannesburg and wished us a pleasant flight. All other procedures are also without problems, however, at the migration control, a group of residents of Central Asia found out something with the border guards.


Flight EX 132 has been served for a year and a month by the largest aircraft in the world - the A380, of which 45 of the 120 pieces produced were bought by Emirates, and the same number ordered from above. The first time I flew on it back in 2010 from Sydney to Dubai, and since then I have been a regular passenger of this “colossus”. He takes off, of course, for a long time, hard, but silently. The cabin is quite comfortable, even in economy class. I do not like only one thing - a long boarding and disembarking of passengers. Especially if you're flying in the tail, when to get to the place you need to go through 50-70 rows with four hundred passengers settling into their seats. And when this whole crowd comes out and “locks” the migration service of an average airport for 30 minutes, it’s generally tough.

We took off at twenty to two in the morning on December 26.2013, 30 minutes late. In the neighboring chairs, the guys from the Na-na group were neatly located, who were actively drinking beer in the Irish Pub on the ground floor of the airport. The service in the pub, by the way, is a C with a minus - the waiter who took our order from us simply did not place it. Everything is better with the service on board - the food is quite decent, for the plane, of course, alcoholic and soft drinks are in stock. I pre-booked seats for us in the front row of the cabin so that it would be comfortable to fly. In Emirates, such places are free, but they are rarely allocated. I have already called the airline office several times and told some kind of tale about why I need these places, so that without neighbors in front. It worked three times.

Four and a half hours dragged on for a long time, even with alcohol in the blood. At six in the morning we landed at Dubai International, an airport that I knew like the back of my hand. We went through all the procedures quickly, and within 30 minutes after landing we were eating our breakfast at the Giraffe cafe (average). Everyone was exhausted from food - thanks to the airport ergonomics designers - there are a lot of reclining chairs in the terminal where you can sleep. Three hours passed quickly.

The second flight, EK763, was operated by a Boeing 777-300ER, the world's largest twin-engine wide-body aircraft. Our flight also took off half an hour late, at 10.45. This was probably my worst flight with Emirates. Firstly, they fed only once in 8 hours. Even our "Soviet Aeroflot lines" are fed more often. Secondly, the stewardess took pity on my whiskey, or rather, delicately said that it was over. True, an hour later another flight attendant found a bottle for me, and not one, as I saw for myself. The dream was not strong and not long. It's strange why, usually on planes I sleep like a gopher after rain. ?


Everything is fast in Joburg. Unexpectedly fast. Airport O. R. Tambo" is named after the closest associate of Nelson Mandela, who died three weeks ago. (author - Oliver Tambo). You do not need to fill out an immigration form. Africans are all smiling and friendly. I issued a visa in Moscow in 3 days, handing over a small package of documents and standing in line at the embassy for thirty minutes. In exchangers, the rate is bad, regardless of the amount of exchange, you pay a commission - 250 ZAR (about 750 rubles). There is a problem with currency exchange in the city - banks are closed, Christmas holidays, after all, there are no “hucksters - money changers”, ATMs are rare. In general, two areas are not developed in South Africa - currency exchange and public transport (taxi, buses, trains, etc. ).

Joburg is not interesting at all. Its main feature is that it is the largest city in the world, located not on the coast of the ocean, sea, lake, river (in general, everything connected with water). And that's all - on this his "unique" (in quotation marks! ) Potential has dried up. ?

At the entrance we took a "type official" taxi. In fact, a "bomb-rogue" with a twisted counter. And there is no other option. None. No train, bus, legal taxi. This guy's meter was spinning at such a speed, as if we were flying on a plane with a taximeter. A trip of 20 kilometers cost 500 rand (1700 rubles) - unrealistically big money for South Africa. The fact that these are scammers, I read on the forum a few days later. For reference, a meeting by a representative of our hotel at the airport would cost 300 rand (1000 rubles), and you can pay by card, unlike the “huckster”, who only required a “cash”.

The Reefs Hotel in Downtown is our first adventure in South Africa. When I was looking for a hotel in the center, “booking dot com gave me this particular hotel in the center. There was little information on the net, and I booked it at a non-refundable rate. As a result, when I “gathered up” information about the city a month later, I realized that I do not live in the center and not in a business district, but in a working area with a local working class. The views from the car window confirmed this. At 6 pm there was not a soul on the street, except for a couple of suspicious blacks on the corner of the house opposite. But there were pluses - we got relatively good business class rooms at a price of 3800 rubles for two nights. In the popular "major" areas of Sandton and Rosebank, the average hotel will cost twice as much.


We went to the first floor, the unfriendly concierge suggested that we go up to the third floor to the reception for registration. It is clear that the suitcases had to be "dragged" by ourselves. At the entrance, a heavily worn artificial Christmas tree winked at us sadly. Behind the bar stood Ralph, a fairly plump young black guy. He searched his system for a long time for booking numbers, then reluctantly talked about what the hotel had. Basically, nothing! The bar behind the reception was closed. On the ground floor there is a canteen - a cafe where they serve disgusting breakfasts. The gloomy light described our condition very well - we arrived in f... ny. At such moments, I always try to be positive, so I encouraged myself and other team members. 50 drops of Dubai-bought JD Silver greatly enhances positivity. Reconnaissance in force showed that it is better not to walk on the street - it is dangerous. You need to go to those very “major” areas that are located in the north of the city (we are in the south! ). The taxi does not work - the day before it was Catholic Christmas....And really, why? It is unlikely that anyone will want to go somewhere, everyone will sit at home and look out the dark windows at the gloomy city....Ralph offered to take us by hotel car to Nelson Mandela Square, the largest mall in the country, located in the Sandton area, for a modest 250 ZAR: “If anything is open this evening, it is this mall! ”. There were no options, we agreed.

At the entrance, a mother-of-pearl gray handsome BMW-745 with a driver behind the wheel was waiting for us. The guy's name was Comfort, and his name suited him well. The guy was very accommodating, but not intrusive. He told about the hotel, about life in the city, about Nelson, about crime, about girls, boys, cars, animals, safaris, current government, his own family and much more. And all this in 25 minutes. ? Not much worked in Nelson Mandela Square, but, fortunately for us, on the central square of this shopping center, where the monument to the man after whom it is named, there were about a dozen restaurants. We chose seafood - an institution called Montego Bay. After a hungry evening and airplane food - very worthy - a plate of seafood for two will cost you 1000 rubles, while the weight of the dish is about 1.5 kg. In general, the evening was a success. We were surrounded by very worthy people - the entire beau monde living in the district gathered in these places to have a bite and discuss the upcoming meeting of the upcoming New Year.

Comfort drove home while we ate and listened to local gossip. I called him 20 minutes before the end of dinner, and he met us at the monument to Nelson Mandela. On the way back, we again had a nice chat for 20 minutes on the way. Sleep, as you understand, we had like a baby near the mother's breast.

The breakfast was nothing. The local canteen on the ground floor did not even satisfy the needs of the undemanding local population; The hotel did not revive at all, only Ralph was replaced by some plump dark-skinned lady. We decided to call a taxi and go see the city. But... in the city, as well as in the hotel, nothing has changed either. On the corner opposite were the same two Negroes, they had not even changed their clothes. I'm not sure they left that "point" at all. The concierge was replaced by the same unsmiling and inadequate. The city looked like after the invasion of zombies. Sadness…. This is the feeling that hovered in the air, and the smell of which spread throughout the city. We asked the lady at the "reception" to call us a taxi... a big mistake... she called someone, but... no one came. And twice!! ! Nobody wants to make money! Somehow I didn’t feel like walking around the deserted industrial area… The idea arose to book a car, but… there was no Internet. On the hotel phone, we did not get through not to Avis - the largest car rental operator in South Africa, not to Hertz - my long-term partner on any trip. In Avis, they answered anyway. A long clarification of the details on an expensive Moscow phone allowed us to find out the price of a Toyota Corolla or its equivalent - a day would cost 350 bucks! I have never met such a “ripped off” even in the dashing 90s, when in Moscow everyone and everything was caught “for a fool”!


All in all, a total no-brainer! And then Comfort appeared on the threshold in a white shirt and classic trousers. We decided not to aimlessly drive around the empty city, but to visit Lion Park, one of the most popular attractions in the city. Comfort agreed to deliver us there, and then take us back, but... the price had to be agreed with the concierge. It was written on his face - "wiring", but... there were no options! "1200 ZAR" - his answer was short, and his voice was stern and unquestioning. We agreed. Our driver covered 45 kilometers in an hour. While we were driving, I figured that yesterday's flights to the restaurant, today's trip to the park, in the evening - to the restaurant in the same region, and tomorrow - to the airport, will cost us all a big penny. Approximately 3000 rand, i. e. 10 thousand rubles. Nobody wanted to pay that kind of money. While everyone was sleeping, I "combed" Comfort'a to a gray scheme. It's simple - he is silent about where he took us, does not hand over checks with our signatures to the hotel, and we give him 30% of the saved amount. The guy hesitated at first, but, looking into my honest eyes, he accepted the offer and was very happy. It is understandable, in the end he received 900 ZAR from me, i. e. about 100 green dollars. And this is 1/8 of his monthly salary. Not bad for a day and a half.

At 11.20 we arrived at Lions Park. The name of this place speaks for itself - lions, lionesses, cheetahs and hyenas live here in a special recreational area. Of particular note is the rare opportunity to play with little lion cubs, who are very happy with all the guests. There are two options to look at wild cats: a classic tour - you are transported by bus in an hour through some areas of the park and you look at cats, and Alex tour - a two-hour trip by car in the company of the famous guide Alex (I don’t remember his last name, those who wish can “google” written). The price of the tour with Alex is 700 rand, the regular one is 250 rand. For 100 rand per person, it is fashionable to drive your car along several routes and watch wild cats. The next "Alex Tour" was at 11.30, but there were no places for it. The next one is at 14.00, for which we bought tickets. The waiting time was not in vain - we played enough with the cubs, took pictures of all living creatures, ate a lemon cake in a local cafe, bought souvenirs.

The tour started on time. Our guide at one time even managed to work in the Ukrainian International Circus, which often toured in Russia, so he was familiar with our culture firsthand, and was very glad to see Soviet citizens. At the very first stop, we saw a pride of lions - a handsome male, who was squeezed by our guide, and his family of 4 females. Next, a family of white lionesses was waiting for us, however, without a lion, which we did not see. Alex worked very professionally with wild cats, feeding them with pre-prepared meat and watering them with repellent. The photographs taken during the tour pay back its cost many times over. All this is accompanied by quite interesting stories about animals, the park, and just stories from the life of Alex. Closer to the finale, we saw two cheetahs, one of which... visited our car and looked wistfully out the window in the back seat. Emotional is unreal, dear friends!

Comfort arrived at 16.20, although before the start of the tour I called him at 16.00 exactly. Instead of a BMW, they gave us a Mercedes - a minibus, where we settled down comfortably. There were different suggestions where to go - both Gold Reef City and the Rosebank area, but we chose yesterday's Nelson Mandela Square, however, having changed the restaurant to Ruth Seafood. I will tell you right away, my dear readers, the fillet steak, which I ordered in this establishment, was one of the very best of those that I have tried in my life in different countries of the world in terms of taste. The way back by a familiar route was already on the BMW in 20 minutes in conversations about Nelson Mandela. The driver wanted to get his bonus, but I moved this conversation to the morning - I wanted to check that my new acquaintance really fulfilled our agreements.


The morning of December 28 was one of the "unkind". Constant "drunks" on holidays lately more and more often do not give me any pleasure. It's funny that it doesn't work any other way: either you get tired after a day of spinning the bagel across the expanses of some country, or your comrade-in-arms seduces you for a glass of beer, and the "party" is smoothly dragged on... The reasons are different... the consequences are similar - an unkind morning. Since the evening, we asked Comfort to come to the hotel at 8.30 and take us to the airport. At the reception, they printed out a check for me, and... what was my surprise when, together with 3000 ZAR, I saw 500 ZAR! "Gorgeous! " - I thought then - "you need to quickly pay and get out of here! ". Unfortunately, communication with the bank did not work, credit cards were not available. Solving the problem took… 30 minutes…. Question of the day - how does this hotel attract business tourists, and what kind of business people come here? I didn't find any answers. But I understood that I would not return here, to this hotel. Interestingly, now it is impossible to book a room in this hotel in any booking system.

Comfort caught up with the schedule, at 9.15 we were in O. R. Tambo, terminal A. The ticket indicates terminal B. My driver thought this was a mistake - all international flights depart from terminal A. In fact, he was right - we flew from terminal A. My gratitude was not long in coming - Comfort kept its word and I didn't plan to do otherwise. For everyone who got into similar situations in Johannesburg, or wants to avoid them, I am writing the number of a great guy who was our budget driver for a day and a half in a BMW-7k? (0745000507 - this is how you dial from a Russian number in South Africa).

We were waiting for the first of five South African Airways SA40 flights booked for the trip to Zimbabwe, Victoria Falls Airport. I specifically write many names in English, so it's faster to find them when searching. We were in for amazing New Year's Eve days in Botswana, Zimbabwe and Zambia. But it's still ahead. In the meantime, A319.2 hours of flight. There are long queues at the airport this time. Even for those who registered "online". A guy with a fumes in a black suit asks the passengers something. It's simple - those who have a close departure time passed without a queue. Others waited even longer. Close means an hour before takeoff. Killing time, shifting from foot to foot is an empty idea - I reached into my pocket and found a very old banknote in 20ZAR and handed it to the guy, as if I was waiting for his hand. The degree of his mood rose sharply, and already a couple of minutes later we didn’t just go to the front of the queue, so he personally led us to the first free counter and asked us to do everything very quickly. Corruption is the engine of progress not only in Russia, it turns out that in South Africa this way of solving problems can also go far.

My team is sleeping, I'm watching movies on my iPad. Below are clouds. A calm flight at the echelon. The airport was as dormant as the rest of the city, with only a few flights ready for takeoff. The food in economy class is tolerable. . . no worse than in Aeroflot, S7, Utair and other Soviet airlines: sandwich, juices, water, beer, tea. It is moderately shaky on landing, although during my studies at the flight school I learned not to react to the chatter.


At 12:15 we landed. Tourists, who fell out in an unorganized crowd on the airfield, began to take pictures together against the background of our plane with a large inscription “South African”, or, against the background of the no less popular sign at the airport “Welcome to Zimbabwe”. The airport is small, it is not able to quickly serve 140 passengers from one Airbus A-319 at the same time. The queue lined up right on the street. Inside the terminal, tourists are greeted by a beautiful box with the inscription "For your pleasure, for your safety", where condoms lay. In general, this phenomenon affects all the countries where I have been. There are places for free distribution of contraceptives everywhere - at train stations, airports, in the toilets of shopping centers, on buses, and even on the street. The most interesting thing is that I did not see how blacks used these boxes, and I did not see empty such boxes.

Only two counters work at the entrance: the first for those who need a single entry visa (30 USD), the second for obtaining a double entry visa (45 USD). A multivisa is issued at the consulate, or when crossing the border for the third time for the above fee, you will again be issued a visa for one or two entries, respectively. Fifty minutes passed, our luggage languishing in anticipation of someone picking it up. Moreover, we saw our suitcases right out of the queue. Visa processing took about three minutes per person, so that the "tail" of those waiting behind me, if reduced, was imperceptible to the eyes of others.

We were met by an adult woman dressed as a park ranger - Edna (0772226298 - her phone number). She worked for Falcon Safaris (falconsafaris dot com), a major Zimbabwe tour operator recommended in many foreign forums. I wrote them a request when I was in Moscow, they quickly prepared the program and sent me a link to pay by credit card. I must say right away that all excursions on my route in Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana did not exceed the amount of 500 US dollars per person.

Twenty minutes, 10 km from the city on the banks of the river of the same name, is the A'zambezi River Lodge Hotel - a rather expensive place by local standards. The room will cost you $100 for two per night. The hotel has everything for a comfortable stay - luxurious air-conditioned rooms, bathroom with bath and shower, mosquito bed, TV, free water and much more. On the territory there is a pier, a swimming pool, sunbeds, a bar, beer and everything that a wide Russian soul needs. I booked through Hotels dot com, they had the best deals for Zimbabwe at the time of booking.


We were at the hotel at 13.30, and before the start time of the first tour - 16.00 - we even had time to sunbathe by the pool. Zimbabwe does not have its own currency, everyone is happy to accept US dollars, which is very convenient, especially after the incomprehensible draconian commissions in South Africa and the lack of a civilized opportunity to exchange money. At four o'clock in the afternoon Edna came for us, and on a small bus, where 12 people were already sitting, we drove 200 meters from our hotel, turned left, to the river, drove through the bush for another 100 meters and were at the pier. On the shore along the bridge, rusty from old age, a team of local dancers was waiting for us - two boys and a girl. In general, such dances are very popular in the culture of the people of Zimbabwe, so they dance there always and everywhere - in restaurants, at the airport, on the banks of the river, in shops. Someone earns money this way, and someone... just dances....?

The event - excursion - is called the Sunset Zambezi River cruise - quite a good start to get to know the country. They gave us an old vessel, and the crew consisted of a middle-aged captain and a very young assistant, who part-time worked as a waiter. The bar menu has a wide selection of free alcoholic drinks - from beer to whiskey, tequila, rum and much more. But the trouble is with snacks - not a tray for our entire company, the cabin boy brought some local snacks, which turned out to be partially inedible for a simple Soviet tourist. Of the animals on the tour, you will not see many - a couple of birds, a small crocodile and hippos somewhere in the distance. And the sunset is really amazing. Photos - immediately in the frame! By the way, there are cruises with dinner on a three-deck boat, but there is no point in taking it - then you will not even see hippos in the water, they will just get scared and go under water.

We were at the hotel at 19.30. Dinner at a local restaurant. I met a Russian mother and daughter - the first on our route. They highly recommended to me the local wild boar - worhog, which run all over the country anywhere. The lady did not lie - its local chefs really cook excellently. The salad bar is very decent, in contrast to the menu selection, where the portions are small and not tasty.

The next morning we met early - at 6 am, and already at 6.30 on the bus we collected tourists from neighboring hotels. We all planned to raft along the right tributary of the Black Water River. By the way, there is a simpler excursion to White Water, but we wanted extreme sports.


By seven o'clock we drove through the entire village of Victoria Falls, and gathered almost 14 people. Another 12 were collected by the driver on another bus. We were brought to a modest hotel called the Black Water Rafting Lodge, where the office of the tour organizers was located. You can have a bite, but it’s better not to, the food is for a weak C grade. We were mostly surrounded by tourists from South Africa, mostly students and young couples. A couple of Englishmen slipped through, and five local people. A long briefing does little - standard chatter from the series "do not panic", "do not take off your vest", "listen to the instructor and everything will be in" chocolate "". In the finale - paintings in a magazine that we all know, but they are not responsible for anything. Next, senior instructor Simon put us all in the back of a Ural truck with makeshift benches, collected 10 bucks per person - a fee for entering the national park where the river flows, and we moved in the opposite direction from Zambia - to the center of the country. The road "there" takes about 40 minutes, the road "back" - all an hour and a half. We stopped in the forest, where the organizers had already set up a kind of camp. We handed over things, changed clothes, smeared ourselves with sunblock, took an oar and put a helmet on our heads - that's all! We are ready! Then Simon divided us into groups, and he himself became the "leader" in our group. Guys from South Africa - three guys Dean, Dereck and Vinie, Dean's girlfriend - Selena, Vinie's girlfriend - Natasha. The latter, by the way, was very proud of her Russian name.

The descent takes about 20 minutes, you walk on slippery clay without support, climb over streams and wet boulders, sharp stones. All this in slates. Very inconvenient, sometimes dangerous. Guides say that every year about 50 people break something on the descent. Fortunately, so far no deaths. An unpleasant surprise awaited us on the shore - our boat was torn. “Technical assistance” was called from the city on the radio, which after 40 minutes brought, or rather dragged us a new boat. All this time, three other groups sailed for their own pleasure in the waters of the river, but they could not go on a hike without Simon. This played a cruel joke on them - even with protective cream No. 30, everyone was very badly burned. Our group was lucky - we spent an hour in the shade of trees. I took my "action camera" with me, two fat silly South Africans had a pair of these, and my friend Vinie JD, who was on another boat with his girlfriend Kristina. According to the finale, the fat men lost their camera, they glued it to the helmet with adhesive tape, and it was torn off by the stream, and it didn’t work with JD from the very beginning. As a result, the only video was filmed by me. When I got home, our whole group flooded my mail with “messages” asking for videos. As everyone then joked, “From Russia with love! ”. I kept my word, did everyone get everything?

Simon did the briefing. We remembered how to paddle correctly, how to keep a foothold, how to pass long, steep, fast rapids and much more. We jumped into the water to get used to this feeling. In general, I did not do rafting of this level before the village. In Zimbabwe, this really requires a certain amount of patience and preparation. We set out on the road. The first couple of thresholds passed quietly. We have a strong group. For the entire route - 26 kilometers (3 hours) - our boat did not capsize even once. And of all, only I fell into the water - on the third threshold. It was a steep passage with a lot of flow. The boat fell nose down and stumbled upon a wave of five meters, followed by a second side wave from left to right, also four meters. I was sitting second from the right, and the blow fell on my side. In a moment I realized that I could not resist, and the next second I was somewhere in the middle between the boat and the river. The guys didn’t even have time to come to their senses, here I am, and now I’m gone. Under water, you experience an unpleasant sensation. First, you are very twisted. I covered my face with my hands so as not to hit the stones. Secondly, you do not understand where to row you, the body is always pulling from side to side. Thirdly, all this is long. I realized that there was not enough air in my lungs to allow myself to continue this dive. Apparently, diving training played, I decided to understand where the bottom is, and where the surface is. There was no visibility, another way was needed. Last year in the Galapagos in a cave without a drop of light, we deliberately dived into the stream - worked out skills, where is up and where is down - a kind of orientation in space. With scuba diving, everything is simple - you look for the bubbles of the oxygen mixture, where they rise - there is the top. Moreover, many times there is a feeling that the surface is at the top, and it turned out to be on the side, or below. Such disorientation in space is possible in dark water in the absence of visual landmarks. In principle, it is the same in the sky, but there you fly the plane on instruments, it is easier. And here, in a stormy mountain river, you can’t understand with your eyes where the bubbles from your mouth go. I blew some air into my folded palms in a dense jet, thus simulating an octopus. A dense trickle went somewhere behind my left hand, and I clearly felt it! There! I figured out where the surface is. I began to row with my arms and legs with all my strength, exhaled the rest of the air and... fuuuuuu, everything! Here he is! Air! In a second on the surface, I breathed in a lot of air, and the next minute I was again lowered into the water. It was easier here, I understood where the surface was, despite the power of the stream and the spray of water jets.

On the boat, the guys tried to find me. We were the last to go, so there was no boat behind us to pick me up. The current carried the guys, and me, certainly forward. A couple of kayak lifeguards worked with us, but both of them were also far ahead, and getting back against such a flow is an unrealistic task. In general, the salvation of drowning people is the work of the drowning people themselves - this is about me at that moment. At some point, I surfaced and saw our boat about 30 meters ahead. There was only one thought - to catch up with her. I began to row with all my might, but the current did not give up either - the heavier boat moved faster. At the moment I began to get tired, but my inner will did not let me drown: “Hey, Alex, ” I said to myself then, “you still have so many things to do! What the hell is water! There are your guys - row there! My "second wind" was not long in coming, the body mobilized, I became like Sarah Connor at the sight of the Terminator, confident and fast, albeit scared. As a result, the guys noticed me, threw me a rope, along which I pulled myself up to the boat, grabbing Simon's oar. I didn’t have the strength to get on the boat, but the guys helped here. Thanks to them all!


I quickly came to my senses. There was no time for rest - new rapids and steep currents of the Black Water River were waiting for us. We passed them masterfully: where necessary, we gathered and nestled on the boat, where necessary - rowed with all our might on the One-two. Simon, quickly assessing our level of training, allowed us to swim in the water between the rapids, where distance allowed. The river was very muddy, you couldn't see your own knees. But it was great - the flow itself carried you forward. We turned the boat over ourselves and passed several rapids as if on a raft. And they were successful. They played pirates with fat guys - however, they lost. The girl JD Kristina broke my "scuba" swimming record - she flew out of the water already unconscious, but the guys - the instructors "pumped her out" ? . On the rapids, many boats capsized, we picked up their passengers and waited until their “vessel” was turned over and brought to us for transferring passengers. “Emotional” that day I had “mad”, I was ready to conquer the Cosmos and kiss Putin’s eldest daughter “in a hickey”. But there were also disadvantages - it was getting close to dinner, the sun was beating down harder and harder. From that day on, we treated burns for about a week in the field conditions of the African savannah.

My adventures didn't end there. We arrived at the end point of the route last, so Simon decided. And then - 500 meters up the same road - clay, mud, stones, streams, boulders. Clay got into my shales and I slid like a cow on Dancing on Ice 2. At some point I had to take them off, but walking barefoot was no easier. A bottle of water, received on shore upon arrival, was quickly drunk. Everyone carried their paddle, helmet, vest, which helped a lot in the water, but now they were a big hindrance. I had no strength, my second wind dried up. The hot African sun was burning (+40 in the shade). Tin!

At some point, I stopped walking. Could not. The heart burst out, there was not enough air, strength, good spirits. A porter walked past me in very comfortable slippers. I stopped him, asked him for slippers. The boy reluctantly agreed, but the size was too small for me. At first I was upset, but then I saw the second guy and decided to repeat the “same trick”. He agreed, he went barefoot, and I - in his trekking slippers. Life got better. So I went somewhere halfway, but the forces left me again. I wanted to drink. One of the porters, having managed to drag the boats up in 10 minutes (author - on average, tourists without cargo complete the route in 30 minutes, I walked 45), went down to help. He took our oars and vests from us and left. I sat down to rest, when I suddenly noticed that he had returned without equipment, and asked if I wanted water. It was like a cold Coke stand in the desert - unexpected and sooo necessary! I slowly climbed up, but the guy was still not there. “Clearly, Mirage, not Cola! ” - I thought then. Noooo, he came back and brought me water. Here it is - the realization of the true value of a thing in the moment. When you drink water from your Zepter every morning, you don't think how wonderful it is. And when you drag your body up the mountain after 3 hours of rafting, and even having practically visited an old woman in a strange black outfit with a scythe, you look at things with different eyes. Thanks to the guys who helped me back then. I did not leave them without a good tip, but true gratitude is difficult to measure in currency. She is priceless!

Upstairs, we had lunch. But I couldn't eat! I drank! Fanta, sprite, water! All. Drinking and drinking. The stomach could not eat - my body experienced such a strong stress.


The return trip was long and fun. We all sang songs and had fun? . At the base, we bought a DVD with photos and videos from the trip, which was filmed by operators on rescue boats. And on the same truck we were all taken to the hotel in advance - we asked, because at 15.00 our next excursion began. And at 14.55 we arrived at the hotel. Right on schedule, like the Queen of England! ? Shower, change of clothes - and we are back in the ranks.

Newton was waiting for us - a stout man who also worked for Falcon Safaris. We moved back to the city for an excursion to the Victoria Falls - the deepest and widest in the world. Waterfalls occupy a special place in my travels, at the time of writing this story, in my piggy bank there is only Angeles in Venezuela. It is noteworthy that Newton drove us on a bus designed to carry 35 people. In the seat of the "co-pilot" was a girl - his sister Gina. She, being a citizen of Zimbabwe, never once in all her forties with a trifle

Translated automatically from Russian. View original
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