Mosi-oa-Tunya

I first visited Victoria Falls in October 1996. At the time I was enroute to Europe for my brother Hamish’s wedding in Kitzbuhel. Leading up to the main event, I stopped for a week in Africa with Victoria Falls as my first destination. I transferred there directly from Johannesburg after flying overnight from Sydney via Perth. I stayed two nights from 8-10 October at the now-defunct Makasa Sun Hotel, a few doors down from the iconic Victoria Falls Hotel.

The Falls are known to the Batonga people as Mosi-oa-Tunya which broadly translates as “The smoke that thunders”. It’s an apt name. The Falls are perpetually shrouded in mist that forms as the Zambezi River plunges into a craggy 1.7-kilometre ravine along the Zimbabwean and Zambian border. Their modern name was anointed by Scottish missionary and explorer Dr. David Livingstone who named them after his Queen in 1855.

I arrived in Victoria Falls towards the end of the dry season. As a result, almost two-thirds of the falls were inactive during my visit. Water was only flowing over the Devil’s Cataract and a short stretch of the main cascade east of Cataract Island. However, the scale and magnitude of this natural wonder was evident thanks to an imposing barren cliff face extending half a kilometre towards the Zambian border. I finally saw the falls in full-flood when I returned with my Mum a decade later. 

Without a doubt, the highlight of my visit was a microlight flight I took over the Falls on my first day in town. On a whim, I walked into the office of a local tour operator late afternoon. After a brief phone call with a local pilot, they booked me on the final flight of the day. I was then driven to the airport where I was duly strapped into the rear of a two-seater microlight.

The experience was simply stunning. Imagine this if you can, the wind in your hair as you fly in lazy circuits above the falls. Below you, the setting sun slowly transforms the fall’s rising mist into iridescent shades of orange and pink. It was absolutely magical. The pilot later admitted that he’d finished for the day when the tour operator called. However, he couldn’t resist the temptation of a final flight at sunset.

The following day, 9 October, I briefly visited Zambia. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was just after another stamp in my passport. My brief visit involved walking over the landmark Victoria Falls bridge, passing through the Zambian border checkpoint about 500 metres up the road, and then on towards what is now the Avani Victoria Falls Resort on the banks of the Zambezi River. An hour or so later I retraced my steps back across the border to Zimbabwe. In the years since I’ve often debated whether I can truly count this brief excursion as a visit to Zambia.

I then capped off the evening dining on the outdoor terrace of the landmark Victoria Falls Hotel. The hotel sits on the rim of the Zambezi River gorge, downstream from the falls. Its location is perfectly aligned to give visitors a dramatic view up the gorge, past its equally famous arched bridge, to the fall’s misty haze. Sadly, thanks to the dry season, the mist wasn’t visible during my visit.  

On 10 October, I transferred to Hwange for my inaugural African safari experience. However, before setting off, I booked a morning cruise on the Zambezi River. At the time, I was the only confirmed passenger. Therefore, in order for the tour to proceed I agreed to pay a minimum booking for two people. While waiting for my ride to the river, I met a young woman backpacking alone in Africa. As I’d already paid for an extra person, I invited her to join me at no extra cost. She gladly accepted.

Our river cruise started uneventfully enough. We passed endless herds of hippopotamuses wading in the distance. As we glided along our boat driver shared how dangerous they were. He warned that they’d attack the boat if we ventured too close. The guide accompanying us reinforced his warning. He claimed more people were killed by hippos than any other animal in Africa.

Suddenly, without warning, a hippo surfaced directly in front of our boat. These incredible animals can hold their breath for up to five minutes, then stride fully submerged along the bottom of the river for hundreds of metres. Momentary panic ensued as our driver took evasive action to avoid the massive creature and put some distance between us. For a minute I wondered if I’d end my days as another hippo attack statistic.

One final memory. Every morning as I went for breakfast I’d encounter families of Banded Mongoose frolicking around the hotel grounds. These restless creatures were everywhere with little ones constantly doing battle on the lawn. They stood in stark contrast to the baboons I passed on the path to the Falls. They were more interested in sitting around people watching as you strode by.