Missing the Drop

So we left South Luanga and a craft shop with nil purchases - yes, not even a box or a basket. This may have something to do with the fact that the money remained firmly in Will's paw. "Do you really need that, Luce?" (this is a common phrase which has plagued me since I was old enough to shop).

After finally arriving in Livingstone we introduced ourselves to the resident cockroaches in our hotel room, Will had a pie, and we were then all set for Victoria Falls. At the bus station, Will managed to save on the bus/taxi fare with some wrangling and bartering taking a record only 20 minutes or so - a current theme on our travels. I'm pleased we agreed on a final fare without too much bother, remembering that hot day in Casablanca, with baggage already deposited on the taxi roof, when Will retorted: "I am not paying a luggage fee on top of that price. Come on, let's walk" I only have a vague memory of what he said to the taxi driver over this 40 pence haggle... and I thoroughly enjoyed the 45 minute walk to our hotel....

Anyway I digress. Victoria Falls - an impressive sight. "Oh is it raining?" say I to the guide (who was proudly wearing a Chatsworth House plastic poncho he was given by a tourist). " Er, no. It's 'the smoke that thunders' - the spray from the falls" says he, then his (and Master William's) attention was abruptly diverted to a wet T shirt walking by (obviously a totally unprepared tourist, unlike me in my sensible shoes and cagoule).

Now, although William painted a rather bad picture, with his full-stop-free-grammatical-error-rant (see below), our trip into Zimbabwe has been the main highlight of my trip. I think Will had secretly planned the crossing of the border just to take me to afternoon tea on our anniversary of 6 years together - March 12th, or as Will fondly recalls (if he does recall at all), "the day before we won at Wimbledon". (and back then a win was something of a rarity - not much changes............)

Afternoon tea at Victoria Falls Hotel was absolutely worth the visa pay-out (and another no-taxi-money-saving sweaty walk into Zimbabwe from the Zambia border). We had booked a plane ride for that afternoon (Cessna 207 for any anoraks - or Airfix model to anyone else) and therefore had a limited time in which to partake in the best afternoon tea I've ever had (I don't think it had anything to do with the fact it wasn't rice, ropy beef or African street fare). So Will watched me run in the heat up the long drive to the hotel in time for tea, before our flight over the falls in the toy plane.

After deciding that it perhaps was not a clever idea to feel nervous (in a small plane made of balsa wood) on a full tum following the extensive afternoon tea, we wobbled into the sky. I smiled confidently at Will and the pilot (see pic) with my legs in jelly, wondering if it was still an option to get off as the ground disappeared below us, while looking around for the (non-existent) emergency parachute. And I'd forgotten my First Aid kit. Then I went into 'must take as many photos as possible' mode as we flew over the falls.

And Will pretended he was a pilot.