Three Countries in Three Days

by Dominic Chadbon, 3 April 2008

"And here, ladies and gentlemen," beamed our snappily dressed boatman, "is where Zimbabwe, Zambia, Namibia and Botswana meet."

I looked around for evidence: no helpful signposts here, only impassive walls of riverine forest flanking the brown, meaty Chobe River, slopping and slapping its way to join the muscular Zambezi, and both destined to soon plummet over the kilometre-wide Victoria Falls.

But a glance at the map substantiates our guide's claim: Namibia's Caprivi Strip, a colonial hangover that protrudes eastward like an accusatory finger, edges into the Chobe-Zambezi region, a confusing labyrinth of game-packed rivers and swamps shared by Botswana, Zambia and Zimbabwe.

And it's at pleasingly named Kazungula, the only commercial river crossing point, save the crammed Victoria Falls bridge, that the countries collide. It's an area redolent of old Africa: the names, the smells, the sights haven't changed here for decades.

Livingstone airport, Zambia's portal to the region, is the name of the Victorian explorer and missionary who dedicated the thundering falls to his queen, and it was here that I landed after a storm-dodging flight and presented myself to smartly uniformed immigration officers.

"Welcome to Zambia," smiled my waiting guide in impeccable English, "and I do hope you enjoy your stay in our jolly country."

Any thoughts that you've arrived in leafy England swiftly evaporate once on the move. It was summertime and blankets of rain sluiced red African earth into churning streams.

Troops of baboons sat by the side of the road idly picking their teeth and warthogs provided additional traffic on our way to our colonial style (not era) hotel, where white-gloved waiters hovered at every corner and ceiling fans gently distributed clouds of blue cigar smoke.

Traditionally Zimbabwe's poorer cousin when it came to Victoria Falls, Zambia has finally come of age and has taken the gap afforded by the apparent demise of Zimbabwe as a tourist destination.

Spanking new lodges have erupted out of the riverside forest offering great accommodation, and the once dull-as-ditchwater Livingstone boasts internet cafes and car rental offices alongside its more traditional general dealers and dingy herbalists.

Zambians move with a confidence that prosperity brings: faces smile, prices are negotiated, deals struck and dollars flash. It is now an area humming with energy: game drives, river cruises, white-water rafting, elephant-back safaris are all chalked up on hotel what-to-do boards.

The Falls may lack the jaw-dropping breadth of the Zimbabwean side but they are still pretty stunning no matter where you see them from, while a sunset river cruise on the graceful Zambezi is better from the Zambian side: fewer boats and close-up views of the precipice's billowing mist.

It's quite a different picture as we head across the clamouring border the following day into Zimbabwe.

A thriving hub of global tourism in the 1990s, the enervating affect of economic collapse and political stagnation seems to have worn the town of Victoria Falls down to its bare foundations.

Cracked, weed-filled pavements crawl with beggars, money touts offer stratospheric exchange rates and everyone offers a rueful half-smile when questioned on the country's condition.

It's not as bad as you might think, however. The lodges are still open, safari operators still pack game drive vehicles and helicopter rides, and hotel car parks bustle with buses and taxis.

Victoria Falls always considered itself a little removed from the rest of Zimbabwe, and so has managed to keep its head above water while the rest of the country rots.

In fact, the town is so desperate for business that it's worth staying there on your terms - especially in the quiet summer months.

Besides, you're here for the waterfall, that crunching spectacle of bruised water sliding over a massive cleft and into a lightning bolt shaped ravine.

Ambling through the dripping rainforest that cloaks the sodden bank opposite the curtain of roaring water, all thoughts of economic collapse and political repression melt as you take in view after relentless view.

Ten years had passed since I had last seen the Falls, and to my not overwhelming surprise, nothing had changed: still the unspoilt world wonder. Things are quite different 70km away in Botswana, our third country in as many days.

While Zimbabwe and Zambia unremittingly play their Victoria Falls trump card, the tourist industry in north-east Botswana has an ace in the region's spectacular wildlife.

The brown swirling Chobe River, before slipping silently into the Zambezi, idles its way along Botswana's northern border with Namibia and its habitats provide food, water and shade for animals driven north from the interior by the desiccating dry season.

Forget the bold claims of game drives in the Victoria Falls or Livingstone area: Chobe in winter is one of Africa's prime game viewing destinations.

The Chobe River area in the arid winter months is packed with game: colossal herds of buffalo, unthinkable numbers of elephant, robust prides of lion, loping packs of wild dog and nervous-looking cheetah.

Great herds of sable, impala and lechwe dot the floodplains while rotund rafts of hippo cover the sandbanks.

But what you don't get much of at Chobe is what they have in bucketfuls across in Zimbabwe: interaction with the locals. Chobe's lodges - and Zambia's too - are isolated and exclusive, creating an elitist atmosphere backed-up by deferential staff and gaspingly high prices.

Some love it; others prefer the genuineness of African urban life, and in Zimbabwe's Victoria Falls you'll certainly get it.

In any event, it's a region marked by its ability to deliver three very different destinations in the shortest possible time - perfect for those on a lightning tour, or finishing off a longer stay in the region.

There are tons of things to do and border crossings are smoother than ever before while cell phones enable your guides or operators to quickly make bookings and change itineraries.

If doing three African countries in three days sounds like an irrational boast, let the enigmatic swirling waters of the Chobe and Zambezi at Kazungula change your mind.

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