<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:31:11.872-08:00</updated><category term='Lusaka International Airport'/><category term='In country training Lusaka'/><category term='My House My Home'/><category term='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRR8ivy-GI/AAAAAAAAAPo/X5wMm7_-uBk/s1600-h/DSC01624.JPG'/><category term='The 18th at Lusaka GC'/><category term='Oh the Sacrifice'/><category term='The Smugglers'/><title type='text'>Tom's excellent adventure</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-5573229404869756043</id><published>2010-06-14T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T01:02:53.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fond farewell</title><content type='html'>so here's some pics of me and my Mobile Transactions colleagues saying goodbye.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXYjzLDa7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/tvRUct7t2UI/s1600/DSCI00141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXYjzLDa7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/tvRUct7t2UI/s400/DSCI00141.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482526230937037746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above is Tresphord our first ever champion agent. He started by handing out flyers and is now a proper little business man, he's even started dressing like an English country gentleman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXaCayrmXI/AAAAAAAAAWI/eh-PB8YxZbQ/s1600/DSCI00151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXaCayrmXI/AAAAAAAAAWI/eh-PB8YxZbQ/s400/DSCI00151.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482527856479934834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leshain, our accountant visiting from Cape Town and Memory my Marketing assistant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXdDE72ucI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/TVlk4xVJZds/s1600/DSCI00501.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXdDE72ucI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/TVlk4xVJZds/s400/DSCI00501.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482531166327585218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brains trust; above left Dave MBA from Yale and right Mike Masters from LSE &amp; Oxford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXdft-jOZI/AAAAAAAAAWY/k_V9EzFo3Pw/s1600/P51900221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXdft-jOZI/AAAAAAAAAWY/k_V9EzFo3Pw/s400/P51900221.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482531658381080978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From left to right: Tresphord, Danny, Max, Leshain, Memory, Claudius, Misozi &amp; Teddy &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXeSdBLktI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Bc811glN7hk/s1600/P51900331.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXeSdBLktI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Bc811glN7hk/s400/P51900331.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482532530002039506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memory &amp; Misozi leading the goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXe2wMpQkI/AAAAAAAAAWo/dLKjj90ocyI/s1600/P51900551.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXe2wMpQkI/AAAAAAAAAWo/dLKjj90ocyI/s400/P51900551.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482533153625686594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone had written messages on what Claudius called my Turin shroud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXgS-SpjhI/AAAAAAAAAWw/fAJumc8CYbk/s1600/P51900591.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXgS-SpjhI/AAAAAAAAAWw/fAJumc8CYbk/s400/P51900591.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482534737956933138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-5573229404869756043?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/5573229404869756043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=5573229404869756043' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/5573229404869756043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/5573229404869756043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2010/06/fond-farewell.html' title='A Fond farewell'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/TBXYjzLDa7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/tvRUct7t2UI/s72-c/DSCI00141.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-5298236068821223570</id><published>2010-04-18T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T07:37:20.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zanzibar 2010</title><content type='html'>So the day has finally arrived, I'm meeting Helen at Dar airport today and then flying on to Zanzibar, can't wait. I'm feeling a little weary as I was up late last night celebrating Alisdair's birthday with Ben, Marte and Rosie. All VSOs other than Marte who is a diplomat with the Norwegian gvt and Ben's girlfriend. They are taking the train to Dar and the ferry over to Zanzibar so will be there roughly the same time as us. So I was little taken aback to see them in the cafe at the airport. It turns out that those kindly chaps at Tazara for no reason had decided to cancel the train. So after a bit of a mad dash they'd managed to get to Lusaka airport and get a couple of seats on my flight. So a few texts later Helen has managed to get them seats on the Dar to Zanzibar flight an we're all set.&lt;br /&gt;Sadly the taxi driver booked wasn't waiting for us but we managed to score a deal with Omar who took us to "Red Monkey" in Jambiani our first stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sPAr_Jt7I/AAAAAAAAAVY/xTIYwloD_io/s1600/DSC00770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 88px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sPAr_Jt7I/AAAAAAAAAVY/xTIYwloD_io/s400/DSC00770.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461475477598877618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a little run down but boasts a fabulous spot on the beach and our bungalow has uninterrupted views up and down the beach. This end of the beach is where Jambiani village is so we see a lot of fishermen action and get the local kids running around screaming and playing footy on the beach, which is great fun most of the time except earlymorning... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sRn5YU1jI/AAAAAAAAAVg/_VnRR2j9hTs/s1600/DSC00805.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sRn5YU1jI/AAAAAAAAAVg/_VnRR2j9hTs/s400/DSC00805.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461478350232278578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day was beautiful but short lived... the rain set in for a few days with brief spots of sunshine to tease us. Mind you when it rains it really does so at least the weather was quite exciting. Although frankly, it didn't really matter it was just great to be together again after 3 months. We spent 6 nights in Jambiani, the highlight being coming 3rd in the Pub quiz competition held at Coral Rock (Local Resort) and won free shooters, sadly with some pretty revolting names. From there we moved on to the Dhow Inn at Paje beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sUrjMb0VI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Mas7EDKQwQA/s1600/DSC00867.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sUrjMb0VI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Mas7EDKQwQA/s400/DSC00867.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461481711531184466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dhow Inn is a rather fancy boutique hotel with just 6 roomsbuilt around a courtyard, it's about 50m from the beach but has a pool to make up for it. The only problem we had here was that on Saturday night a bunch of students turned up at midnight to start a party, planned to go on til 6am. THere was a time I'd have welcomed this but sadly nowadays I'm the grumpy old git who needs his sleep (I know...) so after a number of polite requests failed to quell the excitement I let out Mr Angry which did the trick and closed the party down. To be fair it was 4am by then so I think they got a fair crack. We got a free dinner out of it so not a complete lost cause. The weather brightened up here and we had some rain free days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got to Stonetown the weather was perfect, typical now we've left the beach. After a stroll around and a bit of shopping we end up at the Africa House Hotel for sundowners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sXYxH_IxI/AAAAAAAAAVw/TYtTBSdUV-8/s1600/DSC00924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sXYxH_IxI/AAAAAAAAAVw/TYtTBSdUV-8/s400/DSC00924.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461484687387992850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sXp6BeCPI/AAAAAAAAAV4/tQaHAPKCOo4/s1600/DSC00933.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sXp6BeCPI/AAAAAAAAAV4/tQaHAPKCOo4/s400/DSC00933.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461484981834352882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at the Southern Sun in Dar for our last night and had dinner next to  "Tatiana" the runner up of Big Brother Africa and her entourage of flunkies which was entertaining. It seems that D list celebs act the same all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;It's tough saying goodbye, on the positive side in another 10wks we'll be together for 3 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-5298236068821223570?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/5298236068821223570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=5298236068821223570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/5298236068821223570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/5298236068821223570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2010/04/zanzibar-2010.html' title='Zanzibar 2010'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S8sPAr_Jt7I/AAAAAAAAAVY/xTIYwloD_io/s72-c/DSC00770.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-1671468323549233290</id><published>2010-03-13T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T02:32:54.812-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My new home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S5tjjzAYeEI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/yK0tTcTzlH8/s1600-h/DSC00745.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S5tjjzAYeEI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/yK0tTcTzlH8/s200/DSC00745.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448057640873130050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S5tjK5VPbgI/AAAAAAAAAVI/RdHzslmV5MI/s1600-h/DSC00744.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S5tjK5VPbgI/AAAAAAAAAVI/RdHzslmV5MI/s200/DSC00744.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448057213074501122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi all,  my latest update. I've now moved from Northmead to the leafy suburb of Kabulonga. This was traditionally where the whites lived but is now much more cosmopolitan in fact Kenneth Kaunda lives here and just by is the ex wife of Chiluba (The guy who took over from KK. I live in the cottage (Previously known as servants quarters) of a much grander house which Mike &amp; Isobel live in. Mike is my boss at Mobile Transactions. They're both really cool and have given me the run of the grounds including their rather lovely pool, I also get to use their wi-fi so life is really rather comfortable here. My cottage has a large lounge &amp; dining room with a small but functional kitchen and ok bathroom (just need to get the shower sorted, and single bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;On a work perspective things are pretty hectic but incredibly exciting, there's a palpable sense of achievement in the air. I've written and produced a TV ad and a couple of radio ads which have been on air for about a month now. Despite this our business continues to grow with Feb 40% up on Jan and Mar 50% up on Feb. We've also closed a couple of deals and are really close to nailing a mjor contract that will pretty much nail our targets for the yr in one go. Another fascinating aspect is an introduction to venture capitalism, The Grass roots Business fund have invested in us and visited a couple of weeks ago. They were impressed with what we were doing and the consultant they brought with them was very optimistic that we'd be able to attract quite significant investment.&lt;br /&gt;In a couple of weeks I'm off to Zanzibar to meet up with Helen for an holiday. I've a friend there who's sorting us out with a nice deal for a fancy pants bungalow on the beach, not cheap but certainly a little bit of paradise.&lt;br /&gt;That's all from me, remember I do have email so if anyone wants to drop me a line don't be scared ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-1671468323549233290?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/1671468323549233290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=1671468323549233290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/1671468323549233290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/1671468323549233290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-new-home.html' title='My new home'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S5tjjzAYeEI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/yK0tTcTzlH8/s72-c/DSC00745.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-4621102057291674033</id><published>2010-02-15T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T10:16:49.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home.....</title><content type='html'>So I'm back in Lusaka and facing a whole new non VSO world. The most obvious disadvantage is nowhere to live, swiftly followed by having to do a full days work for a living, no more VSO siesta's!! &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mMoKPBW7I/AAAAAAAAAUw/reUKLGBHBZQ/s1600-h/DSC00740.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mMoKPBW7I/AAAAAAAAAUw/reUKLGBHBZQ/s200/DSC00740.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438532646596598706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mNFNxi7RI/AAAAAAAAAU4/kmddAmEm1s8/s1600-h/DSC00741.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mNFNxi7RI/AAAAAAAAAU4/kmddAmEm1s8/s200/DSC00741.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438533145762917650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The good news is that I've managed to bag a room in a fab flat for 8wks whilst I find a permanent home. I'm sharing with a Canadian ODI called Laura who works in the ministry of trade. The infamous Vinny also lives in our small compound &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and is an ex ODI working in the ministry of trade. The best way to describe him is as a modern day Indian Arthur Daly and one of the shrewdest characters I've met since I've been here. Equally it's a shortish walk (25mins) to work in the morning which is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mOj91k6DI/AAAAAAAAAVA/OrTD5DKI68Y/s1600-h/DSC00742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mOj91k6DI/AAAAAAAAAVA/OrTD5DKI68Y/s200/DSC00742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438534773572429874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Even more exciting is the pool, darlings... which completes the ex pat lifestyle. At the end of the month I'm moving to Kabulonga, a posh suburb of Lusaka. I'll be renting the servants quarters (From now on to be known as the cottage) of Mike &amp; Isobelle. Mike is canadian and the general manager of Mobile transactions ((The guy who got me on board). They have a lovely house in it's own grounds (Built by a Scandinavian, so a little unusual), I think it's gonna be great, as long as we can avoid talking work 24/7.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-4621102057291674033?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/4621102057291674033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=4621102057291674033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/4621102057291674033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/4621102057291674033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2010/02/home.html' title='Home.....'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mMoKPBW7I/AAAAAAAAAUw/reUKLGBHBZQ/s72-c/DSC00740.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-2559197956510702833</id><published>2010-02-15T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T10:02:14.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mutinondo Wilderness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mBPHqF_JI/AAAAAAAAAUI/OhHzQxqv0wg/s1600-h/mut+view.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mBPHqF_JI/AAAAAAAAAUI/OhHzQxqv0wg/s200/mut+view.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438520121780206738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday lunchtime, some 8hrs after we left and the dirt, dust &amp; heat was worth it. This is the view from our Chalet in Mutinondo, overlooking the valley in full "Flush" The "Flush" is where all the trees change colour, I guess a bit like a New Hampshire autumn.&lt;br /&gt;Mutinondo is way off in the Northern Province on the trd to Tanzania. We are also only a few hours from the Africa House, an amazing story of a crazy English guy who built a statley home in the middle of the bush, you should read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mD6md6PRI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/NicnglFwekk/s1600-h/+walk+view"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 44px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mD6md6PRI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/NicnglFwekk/s200/+walk+view" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438523067808234770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's owned an run by a Zambian/Kenyan couple as conservation area, they make some money from tourists to fund their work. It's in the middle of nowhere and there are few amenities but it doesn't feel that way especially with the clever use of solar power to deliver electricity where needed. And when you have views like this what more do you need? &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mGlcqa3UI/AAAAAAAAAUY/3M43OS3MJ1g/s1600-h/walk+view1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 44px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mGlcqa3UI/AAAAAAAAAUY/3M43OS3MJ1g/s200/walk+view1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438526002933980482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We went for a walk today, it was meant to be a couple of hours strolling along the river and catching the small waterfalls along its course. Sadly we missed a turn and ended up on a bit of a route march and did a 21k round trip. As you can imagine we were ready for lunch which was awesome. They have established a kitchen garden here so we were plied with wonderfully fresh veg &amp; salad and the piece de resistance.... a truckle of amazing cheese, none of which is easy to get in Lusaka let alone 8hrs into the bush.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mI7FVbr1I/AAAAAAAAAUg/nNTbK_Jwu1c/s1600-h/bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mI7FVbr1I/AAAAAAAAAUg/nNTbK_Jwu1c/s200/bar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438528573652315986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; all washed down with an ice cold beer from the "honesty bar" It's Sunday and this time we find the right turn and wander along the riverside until we get to paradise pool and have lunch (Packed lunch provided by those lovely people at Mutinondo) and a bit of dip. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mJ6HQAt9I/AAAAAAAAAUo/LcXEZx3GbPU/s1600-h/waterfall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mJ6HQAt9I/AAAAAAAAAUo/LcXEZx3GbPU/s200/waterfall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438529656498206674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After lunch it's time to say goodbye and head back to the big city.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-2559197956510702833?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/2559197956510702833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=2559197956510702833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2559197956510702833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2559197956510702833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2010/02/mutinondo-wilderness.html' title='Mutinondo Wilderness'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S3mBPHqF_JI/AAAAAAAAAUI/OhHzQxqv0wg/s72-c/mut+view.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-6739859455816012855</id><published>2010-01-23T03:41:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T22:10:07.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lower Zambezi</title><content type='html'>Mmm. I'm way out of date on this so bear with me as I catch up; imagine yourself back in the balmy days of last summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting at Lusaka International Airport for the plane to land and my butterflies to settle, fortunately, unlike Dad's flight the planes on time although Helen's a week late. She was offered a second interview for a training contract last week. Which posed a dilemma, attending meant cancelling her ticket and having to buy another but the prize is big. It's worth the risk. A glimpse through the doors sends a shot of adrenaline through  me and moments later she's here. It's comfortable and easy, things are gonna be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're off the Lower Zambezi this weekend, I blagued a great deal on 5 star lodge from a friend of a friend, know what I mean, at the Royal Zambezi. We set off early as despite being only 250k away it will take us over 5hrs to get there, could quite afford flying into their private landing strip.The first part of the drive is tarmac heading south towards the Zim border. It's one of the most picturesque drives in Zambia and the road is pretty good apart from a few booby trap potholes. The sight of overturned lorries keeps you honest though. This is normally as a result of brake failure or mythical modern day highwaymen who lay traps on the rd to overturn lorries and then rob them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we get to Chirundu it's dirt track all the way apart from a short ferry crossing. 3hrs later with only one or two mishaps we make it and it's worth it. Our "Tent" is super awesome and hardly deserves the title of tent. We have a balcony with our own private plunge pool, bath &amp; shower and stunning views of the river &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2El6RSeAQI/AAAAAAAAATY/2Xb03M5w1aM/s1600-h/balcony.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2El6RSeAQI/AAAAAAAAATY/2Xb03M5w1aM/s200/balcony.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431664308589035778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2EoKMkj-5I/AAAAAAAAATw/Efk-aRztkJ4/s1600-h/view.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 44px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2EoKMkj-5I/AAAAAAAAATw/Efk-aRztkJ4/s200/view.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431666781223910290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After settling in and lunch we took a cruise on the zambezi, we have the boat to ourselves, wow. It's not long before we come across a group elephants and their young taking a mud bath by the side of the river, which we enjoy for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an hour or so the sun begins to and the G&amp;Ts appear, mixed at industrial strength. It's difficult to take in the enormity of it all, I guess an enourmous G&amp;T helps, it was  special moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2Em03w54ZI/AAAAAAAAATg/-TgzPXh5nGg/s1600-h/sunset-Edit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2Em03w54ZI/AAAAAAAAATg/-TgzPXh5nGg/s200/sunset-Edit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431665315349651858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up early in the morning for a game drive in the National Park. The park is stunning set between the river and the mountains sadly virtually no game today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we take another cruise and get up close and personal with an hippo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2EnOk47BtI/AAAAAAAAATo/e1f5eFwcW6U/s1600-h/hippo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2EnOk47BtI/AAAAAAAAATo/e1f5eFwcW6U/s200/hippo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431665756959606482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The river is even wider and more impressive here, the combination of serenity, simplicity and scale takes your breath away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2EoxIRAtlI/AAAAAAAAAT4/baWkxecWGqI/s1600-h/zam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 44px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2EoxIRAtlI/AAAAAAAAAT4/baWkxecWGqI/s200/zam.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431667450083063378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we dine on a small island in the middle of the Zambezi complete with fancy tables and candelabra, from there off for a night drive. The morning disappointment is soon forgotten as we come across a leopard lounging around after pretty big meal by the looks of things. She doesn't seem in the least concerned by us and looks disdainfully on. It never gets boring seeing leopards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2Epkmm8ODI/AAAAAAAAAUA/QEwN2LlJlH0/s1600-h/leop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2Epkmm8ODI/AAAAAAAAAUA/QEwN2LlJlH0/s200/leop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431668334401435698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following morning we canoe on the Zambezi or more accurately we are taken by speed boat up river to where they have driven our canoes, given a guide/rower and gently amble down the Zambezi to the lodge, followed by another guy in a canoe with drinks. Just time for another marvelous lunch and off. We're held up at the ferry for an hour but back in Lusaka by 9pm and ready for Mutinondo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-6739859455816012855?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/6739859455816012855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=6739859455816012855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6739859455816012855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6739859455816012855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2010/01/lower-zambezi.html' title='Lower Zambezi'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/S2El6RSeAQI/AAAAAAAAATY/2Xb03M5w1aM/s72-c/balcony.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-6956665611625317958</id><published>2009-07-08T01:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T02:49:49.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A visit from Ken Bates II this time it's personal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRn7BILAZI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Lvi_uknpMko/s1600-h/DSC01665.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRn7BILAZI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Lvi_uknpMko/s200/DSC01665.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356020120463016338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"&gt;Friday sees heading East to South Luangwa national park, some 9.30 hrs drive away.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Most of the drive is on pretty good road but the last 130k is on a dirt track that is heavilycorrugated. I’m told to drive at 60kph otherwise the car will feel likeit’s gonna fallapart, which is true. The only problem i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"&gt;s that at that speed it feels like the car will slide off the road any second, a bit of a roller coaster.We arrive late afternoon and dad is introduced to the wildlife immediately as I nearly run over two Giraffe who are meandering down the dirt track to our camp, Flatdogs. We’re staying in a posh permanent tent with proper beds and ensuite outdoor shower &amp;amp; toilet (Thanks for paying dad). It’s right on the edge of the river Kafue overlooking a raft of Hippos who are snorting &amp;amp; grunting but otherwise doing nothing. There’s a large elephant stool 2ft from the tent, I’m not sure if this is a good or bad thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Next morning I go on a walking/driving safari &amp;amp; dad on a drive (Claims of bad ankleand all that). My trip is fascinating but mainly consists of studying dung whilst the old boy gets to see a leopard, a herd of Buffalo &amp;amp; a parade of elephants walking trunk to tail. I’m not sure he realises how lucky he is, people spend their whole lives hoping to see a leopard. In the afternoon we watch the Lions (British Lions) take on SA and nearly come back from the brink to snatch victory. It’s hard to be that disappointed when you’re somewhere as stunning as south Luangwa. The next morning we do a drive together and have great fun tracking Lions and follow a herd of stampeding impala, who we think are being hunted by the lions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRobhxLdWI/AAAAAAAAARg/XM38flIC14w/s200/DSC01723.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356020678980760930" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRpCBNYrsI/AAAAAAAAARo/CBbr5wnHAkI/s200/DSC01706.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 151px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356021340255596226" /&gt;It turns out to be wild dogs on their trail. Whilst not as glamorous as Lions they are way more rare and quite a spot. We stop for tea in the Giraffe’s front room as our guide puts it which is also amazing. We spend the afternoon in camp watching a “Tower” of Giraffe wandering around the camp and a single Bull elephant meandering through it. I’m not sure the health &amp;amp;safety boys would be happy about this.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRoGcwynHI/AAAAAAAAARY/KXIsXVQ6RbE/s200/DSC01763.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356020316859702386" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That evening the piece de resistance a night Drive. We start at 4pm and mooch around until sunset where we stop for G&amp;amp;T’s and an opportunity to drop our jaws at the all round splendour of our surroundings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Whilst here our guide hears tale of a badly wounded Lion who’s been in a scrap with another male, he’s strayed into the wrong territory. A bit of a moral dilemma here, is it voyeuristic to find it and have a gawp, maybe, but we’re gonna do it anyway. The poor thing really is in a bad way, intestines hanging out and barely a movement from the chest cavity. The vet’s on the way and they’re hopeful of saving him but as rule it’s the law of the jungle here and they rarely intervene.We see some still lights and investigate, there’s a leopard in them there trees and our guide and spotter gently tease it out. We follow it for a few minutes, most of which I spend busily deleting photos from my camera as it’s decided that this would be the perfect&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRfZ6UWrUI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/bpEBS6INZc4/s200/DSC01789.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356010755606359362" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;moment to tell me memory card is full. It’s an amazing animal and surprisingly small, still wouldn’t fancy taking it on though. Next stop, an eagle owl hidden away in a culvert, god knows how the spotter saw it and whilst not as thrilling as Leopards an incredibly rare find. As we head for a pride of Lions we’ve heard about we come across another stationary vehicle and get our second Leopard spot of the night&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRgBqPyD1I/AAAAAAAAARA/wE1RSJIm7q4/s200/DSC01799.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356011438486982482" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’ve become blasé about leopards and move on quickly to find the lions which we duly do, a pride of about 6.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They are the females &amp;amp; younger males of the injured Lion we saw earlier, the guide gets uncomfortably close. Apparently unless we move they think that we’re just one big animal and will leave us alone. One young male saunters past our open topped car within stroking reach of me, needless to say I didn’t move. We were then privileged to watch a hunt. One young male left the group and circled a grazing Puk&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;u whilst the rest got into stealth mode, spread out and made their way towards the unfortunate beast. Almost immediately it knew something was up and stood stock still waiting for events to unfold. The team from the south were pushing him towards the lone male in the&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRhCPH8yYI/AAAAAAAAARI/MisQDdzucoc/s200/DSC01809.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356012547897870722" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;north, good military tactics here. Inexplicably the lone lion in the north decided to arc round and approach the Puku from the east which opened up the north for it to flee, schoolboy error my friend back to Sandhurst for you. After all the excitement back to camp for dinner and a few beers before retiring as we head off at&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; 5.30am the following morning. We wake to hear from our tent guard that a Lion killed a buffalo outside the tent 2 doors down from us during the night, health &amp;amp; safety really wouldn’t have been happy about that one. So off we go, stopping in Nyimba for Tea &amp;amp; Muffins at Sarah’s (Canadian VSO) on the way.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We get back to Lusaka early evening and I take dad for a pint at Poritco to round off what’s been an awesome couple of weeks, look forward to your next trip Ken!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-6956665611625317958?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/6956665611625317958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=6956665611625317958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6956665611625317958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6956665611625317958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/07/visit-from-ken-bates-ii-this-time-its.html' title='A visit from Ken Bates II this time it&apos;s personal'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRn7BILAZI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Lvi_uknpMko/s72-c/DSC01665.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-3582193998485868220</id><published>2009-07-08T00:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T01:09:01.963-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRR8ivy-GI/AAAAAAAAAPo/X5wMm7_-uBk/s1600-h/DSC01624.JPG'/><title type='text'>A Visit from Ken Bates - Vic Falls</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRKEG5Ks5I/AAAAAAAAAOg/QpRFrO_xqnE/s200/Copy+of+DSC01584.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355987291280683922" /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRKEG5Ks5I/AAAAAAAAAOg/QpRFrO_xqnE/s1600-h/Copy+of+DSC01584.JPG"&gt;So, the old boy’s arrived. The plane was only 3 hrs late so I’ve been waiting at the airport since 6am for no reason. Oddly I barely noticed, I must be getting truly Zambianised. I wonder if this makes “Culturally sensitive”, something VSO keep&lt;/a&gt; telling me off for not being. Anyway, more importantly, when did my dad turn into Ken Bates?!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our first trip is to Livingstone to see the falls. We’ll be staying at Jane’s (A VSO in Living&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;stone) and picking up Luke &amp;amp; Rosanna (VSOs in Choma) on the way. It’s about 600k but takes about 6hrs because the road is so bad at Zimba, what’s euphemistically called the Zimba by pass. It’s in fact 40k of dirt rd followed by a stretch of tarmac so potholed they can only be avoided by driving along the side of the rd. We arrive about 8pm and Jane has kindly organized a food for us from the restaurant she has just launched with her ladies from the church. Its dad’s first introduction to Nshima, he copes remarkably well.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Next morning we head for the falls, which as normal are on great form, there’s a bit more spray this time than last and of course we get completely drenched, the good news is it’s hot enough to dry off in minutes. Sadly we’re a couple of days late for full moon, when you get the amazing site of a Moonbow. Nonetheless the water is high enough to create a number of rainbows and its great fun to look down on them from our vantage point on the bridge.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As dad says you can see pictures &amp;amp; film footage but nothing quite prepares you for the awesome power of the real thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRKgnWLhII/AAAAAAAAAOo/bLlcjlIR-_0/s200/Copy+of+DSC01586.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355987781028643970" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRJla-4alI/AAAAAAAAAOY/0UYDp71Et_8/s200/Copy+of+DSC01564.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355986764097415762" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After a couple of hours wandering around the falls we head for the “Boiling pot”. The falling water is forced through a narrow gorge that turns straight right. This creates an amazingly powerful whirlpool of water that crashes around looking for somewhere to go, hence the “Boiling Pot”.&lt;/p&gt;Its a +600m hike down the gorge, through rivers and over boulders, it’s not a tourist friendly route! But worth it when we get there, the ascent is as challenging as the descent. However, we meet a Flange (I think it’s that) of Monkeys on the way back messing around in trees and busy grooming each over, especially cute were the babies. It was pretty hard work and Dad did well to get through it so I took him for Beer and burgers at the Zambezi Sun. An appallingly distasteful hotel but right next to the falls.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After being fed &amp;amp; watered we met up with Jane, Luke &amp;amp; Rose.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlROTc4w7HI/AAAAAAAAAPI/o2j5J6XWvQU/s200/DSC01602.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355991952929123442" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I had promised dad an afternoon snooze by the pool but it’s getting late and we need to head for the Royal Livingstone for Sundowners. The RL is the poshest hotel on the Zambian side and has a decking area on the Zambezi from which you can watch the falls and the sun going down over it, a memorable experience. Dad’s had enough excitement for one day so we head off to Olgas for dinner whilst he heads back to Jane’s for some shut eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRQGDYndqI/AAAAAAAAAPY/swB4mWxYcdg/s200/DSC01621.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355993921768355490" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRPYz0seLI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/6fsHdYaI-3c/s200/DSC01620.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355993144497043634" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The next day we take a swift trip to the bridge and take a look at the Falls from a new angle. The mid point of &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRQ8GpBQOI/AAAAAAAAAPg/MsDXA8V5Y0k/s200/DSC01627.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355994850355396834" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;the bridge is the border with Zim, so we can officially claim to have visited Zimbabwe, I hope mister Mugabe doesn’tmind, I have been quite rude about him in the past.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-3582193998485868220?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/3582193998485868220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=3582193998485868220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3582193998485868220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3582193998485868220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-old-boys-arrived.html' title='A Visit from Ken Bates - Vic Falls'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRKEG5Ks5I/AAAAAAAAAOg/QpRFrO_xqnE/s72-c/Copy+of+DSC01584.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-6866691964434940876</id><published>2009-07-07T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:16:03.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome to Lochinvar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRDERHJuhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/pbVIXbOY3QM/s200/DSC01507.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355979597442300434" /&gt;So it’s true, I’ve bought a car. She’s a bit of a monster, Toyota Hilux surf 3litre turbo diesel but I’ve managed to convince myself that there’s a rational reason for doing this mainly based on Safety. In truth I just couldn’t bring myself to buy a rav4, I’m not ready for hairdresser school just yet.The change of ownership process is almost as much fun as getting your license. It starts with a letter of sale (After you have paid) given to you by the previous owner along with the white book (Which is neither white or a book). You take this to the police to check that it’s not a stolen vehicle; frankly a bit late given you’ve already paid for the dam thing!! The police tell you to go to ZRA (Zambian Revenue authority) Lawrence sucks his teeth and shakes his head at this, Lawrence is the agent helping me buy the car. He claims that the ZRA will want 3% of the value of the car in tax (k1.4m) but If, I were to give him K200,000 he could sort it out for me. I kinda know that this is bullshit but I really don’t want to take a risk with ZRA so I give him the cash and we move to phase 2. “Physical Check”... Whilst Lawrence is off doing his thing with the ZRA, his buddy Colins takes me to Ridgeway RTA for my cars physical. Fortunately he knows everyone there and I get bumped to the front of the queue, pushing in is so much more fun when it’s you doing the pushing. The inspection consisted of the bonnet being opened and the front driver side tyre being kicked, gently.  Fortunately Lawrence and Colins offer to go to Lumumba RTA to hand the documents in and get the white book transferred to me, which will save me a couple of hours of queuing, two days later it’s all done.  PS I’m still on my temporary license as after two months they’ve still not managed to print my permanent one.&lt;br /&gt;Now I have a car I need to use it and I know just the place, the bank holiday is almost upon us and a bunch of VSO’s are going to Lochinvar National park, so I become nominated driver. Lochinvar is geographically the nearest park to Lusaka but it is actually quite hard to get to because the roads are so bad and it has no big cats &lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRGrMrTEAI/AAAAAAAAAOI/X7YRiUUNJ3Q/s200/DSC01559.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355983564801511426" /&gt;which is what the people want but it does have a lot of birds, great. It’s 7am and I’m on the road to Monze to pick up Tash &amp;amp; Dhun (Two VSO’s) and a friend of theirs Michelle. I turn on the radio to hear a familiar voice. Anne, is an ex VSO who now works for Iconnect (Zambia’s leading ISP), she is also a Toastmaster and is doing a feature on Phoenix FM trying to drum up interest. She sounds bright and articulate, which she is, oddly she gives out her personal mobile number, which will come back to bite her. The road to Monze is fine and takes about 2.30hours but from here to Lochinvar is a nightmare. It’s 45k of which the first 25 are on a graded road which has pretty much been washed away leaving just flinty underlay, it feels like you’re gonna lose your fillings on this stretch. The last 20k is a dirt track that honestly doesn’t warrant the title track. All in all it takes 1.3hrs to do 45k; at least the car got a work out.&lt;br /&gt;We’re staying with “Griff” a friend of Tash who lives and works in the park. So that afternoon we go off to visit the plains and hot springs. Sadly these are too hot to take a dip (approx 90c) but do have an interesting array of poached insects floating on the surface.  Griff’s house neatly sums up a lot of Zambia it’s in the middle of nowhere but has satellite TV but no running water. So we get to wash in buckets but can keep up with Paris Hilton’s search for her new best friend.  On Saturday we go out into the park and soon the value of no big cats becomes clear. We sp&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRDyEbV6cI/AAAAAAAAANg/qGfYXZrakB0/s200/DSC01522.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355980384311306690" /&gt;ot a bunch of Zebra &amp;amp; Impala about 500 yrds away stop the cars and make our way towards them. It’s great gently sneaking up on them and clearly something you couldn’t do if there were Lions &amp;amp; Leopards in the park. They didn’t seem in the least unnerved by us and in fact seemed to rather enjoy our amateurish hunting technique. From here we went off rd, a good thing as the roads are much worse here than driving in the Bush, stopped in the middle of nowhere and off walking again. After 15 mins we arrived at a small lagoon hosting about 30 hippo, an incredible sight. A few facts about Hippos: the collective noun is a “raft” of Hippos, they’re very big and fat (A Hippos head alone weighs 250kg) and apparently they are the biggest man killer in Africa, so be careful. They spend all day lolling about in the water only coming on to land in the evening to eat. They are creatures of habit and follow the same path to their feeding ground, known as the “Hippo highway”. The highway is demarcated by the Hippo intermittently defecating against a tree and using its gentle wafting tale to spray said tree. If disturbed they head straight for the water down the highway and stop for nothing, so if you do disturb one don’t get between it and the Agua!!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We stop for Lunch at an old bush camp by the Lagoon, which stretches +20k to the river Kafue. It’s a beautiful spot and a real shame that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tourists no longer visit in enough numbers to keep such places running. It seems that whilst most of Africa is short of water Zambia i&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRFG1OoUDI/AAAAAAAAANw/uyFY68DG_EQ/s200/DSC01557.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355981840520335410" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;s not, apparently it gets about a third of the total water in Africa, which make&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRGKAm_eJI/AAAAAAAAAOA/7nrNIHXreQU/s200/DSC01532.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355982994626541714" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;s it even more annoying that they have such a crap water supply. The camp is now used by the wardens to hang out whilst not ch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;asing poachers. They tell us about a Python they found this morning and take us off to find it. It’s resting under a rotting canoe about 5 mins away and is well over 3 metres long, which they didn’t tell me when making me step over the canoe to get a better look.  We oooh &amp;amp; ahhh at it for a while and then realise the wardens are cowering some 10m behind the Mzungo, what do they know that we don’t. It turns out that they believe the python can jump and that it’s got a sting in its tale, neither is true but the power of folklore is amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After this we go to Drum rock, so named because hitting certain parts of it produce the sound of a drum. Our guide also tells us a story about initiation ceremonies for young men that used to be held here. I won’t go into detail but it involves doing som&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ething young men do a lot of and reaching a certain distance in order to become a man. We then head off to the giant Baobab tree which is hollow inside and accommodated 6 of us. And Home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRHHmw2HqI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/L2eMvqHQRQ4/s200/DSC01561.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355984052840439458" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-6866691964434940876?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/6866691964434940876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=6866691964434940876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6866691964434940876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6866691964434940876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/07/welcome-to-lochinvar.html' title='welcome to Lochinvar'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SlRDERHJuhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/pbVIXbOY3QM/s72-c/DSC01507.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-7860030990467906993</id><published>2009-05-15T03:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T03:36:22.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning to Drive</title><content type='html'>It looks like I’m gonna be buying a car so it’s become necessary to pass my Zambian driving test which whilst not difficult is something of a Palaver. We get dropped off at the Road Traffic offices at 8am and joined the already 30plus strong queue waiting to get their provisional licence application form. After queuing for a while Laura (Who was also applying) chatted up the guy at the information desk and managed to blague a form,  I of course didn’t get one (Not pretty enough &amp; wrong sex). After about an hour I went in to see “The Man” who took 10 seconds to stamp my form &amp; tell me to go to window 9 pay. By all accounts this also means that I’ve passed my theory examination (Go figure?!). Apparently because the UK now ask Zambian drivers to retake their test when they come to the UK (You’ll see why later) they have determined that all Brits must do the Zambian Driving test, I believe this is the only country in Southern Africa where you can’t drive on your UK licence. Laura, on the other hand has been told to go to window 11 or 12 for a “Conversion” which would mean not having to take the test. Whilst this is against my guy’s advice we decide to give it a go as it would save a lot of time if we could avoid doing the test. I go to window 11 &amp; Laura window 12. Laura arrives first and hits the next obstacle apparently we need a medical certificate before we can proceed, this sounds like bollocks but “Missy” behind the counter has go her best “Whatever” face on and we’re going nowhere. One of the security guards offers to sell us a medical certificate for 40,000k but we decide against. It’s now midday on day one (4 hrs in) and so far we’ve managed to get a form, it’s not looking good.&lt;br /&gt;Stage II medical certificate. &lt;br /&gt;I’ve contacted Corp med and booked myself in for a medical at 8.30 tomorrow morning and am now on my way to the government printers, thankfully close to the office in order to buy my medical form, which goes remarkably smoothly, so it’s off to Corpmed in the morning. After waiting a mere 15 mins the receptionist calls me, saying “I’ve looked you over and there’s nothing wrong, you look pretty healthy, so I’ve told the doctor you only need to do the eye test” which we do. I’m ushered into the Doctor’s office to hear “Yeah you’re right doesn’t seem to be much wrong with him”. He writes on my form “In excellent health”, signs it has a moan about the need to do medicals for this type of thing and then I’m off medical certificate in hand. &lt;br /&gt;I’ve been driving around in a friends borrowed car for about a month without a licence and now have to decide whether to risk driving to the RTA licence centre or not, I take the risk. Unusually there’s little or no queues so “Missy” in window 12 happily authorises my form and sends me to room 3 where I have my photo taken and then to window 15 to pay for my provisional licence and try to book my test but apparently the cashier at window 15 can’t do this and I have to go to Cashier 6. I do this wait for an hour but eventually get my test form; I’m booked in for Friday at 2pm.&lt;br /&gt;Having organised to hire a car for the afternoon I duly arrive at the test centre on time to be told I’m in a queue and they’ll call me when their ready. The driving test is in two parts one is a cone test and the other a drive around their test track. The cone test consists of driving forward and turning left then reversing back to where you started, then repeating the manoeuvre but turning right instead of left. If you touch a cone you’re out. There’s not much space either side of the car and once you’ve started you can’t readjust, it looks quite daunting to be fair. Fortunately for me the girl in the office takes pity on me and says I don’t need to take the cone test as I already have a UK licence. No-one passes it in the entire time that I’m there. Eventually the instructor comes for me and after driving for less than 5 mins he asks me to park and informs me that I’ve passed. Forty minutes later the requisite people have signed my form and I’m off. All I have to do now is go to the RTA to get my temporary licence on Monday and then go back in about a month for my permanent licence, a piece of cake!!! &lt;br /&gt;I cause a bit of a stir at the RTA by questioning a number of queue jumpers and sending them to the back (Very British), One got so upset that he told me to "Fuck Off" (V unusal for a Zambian) and that I'd be fixed. When I suggested he may need some help "fixing me" the rest of the queue laughed and started to gang up on him, he scarpered. From there on in no-one was allowed to queue jump as all the locals were now challenging the jumpers as well as me. I see this as my greatest moment of capacity building since I've been here. It seems to me queue jumping isn't cultural, it's simply that most Zambians are too polite to say anything so some take advantage.&lt;br /&gt;It looks like I've bought a car, a Toyota Hilux surf. The guy wanted 50m for it so I offered 45m thinking he'd back out but he's accpeted so now I'm worried about what's wrong with it, never happy.Anyway hopefully over the weekend we'll get things sorted but surprise surprise it's a long and bureacratic process to buy a car!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-7860030990467906993?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/7860030990467906993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=7860030990467906993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7860030990467906993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7860030990467906993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/05/learning-to-drive.html' title='Learning to Drive'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-2667392059942861754</id><published>2009-05-15T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T03:19:10.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There'll always be Zanzibar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg0-hbNXJPI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ahdQwJNyaJ4/s1600-h/DSC01325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg0-hbNXJPI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ahdQwJNyaJ4/s200/DSC01325.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335989877464311026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well today’s the big day, I fly to Dar to meet Helen and then on to Zanzibar. She’s only given me one task; buy some Gin, which shouldn’t be too hard, so it’s off to the airport and Paradise Island. Sadly the departure lounge is undergoing major renovation work at Lusaka airport so no Duty free shopping to be done, not to worry gin can be bought on board or at Blantyre (Malawi stop off). We get off safely despite the check in desk booking me onto the wrong flight, which they seemed pretty unconcerned about. A couple of hours later we stop at Blantyre and it’s off to duty free to do the Gin buying. Shit! The dollars I had in my pocket have gone. I rack my brains and can only conclude that the security guy at Lusaka lifted them when I put everything through the X-ray machine, a rookie Mzungo mistake. Oh well, the duty Free magazine tells me I can pay by credit card, so it’s Gin from the plane then. Silly me, when they say you can use credit cards what they meant was no you can’t use credit cards, so no Gin. However, we do have a previously unannounced but by all accounts scheduled stop in Lilongwe (Capital of Malawi). So all in all a 3-4 hr flight to Dar has taken from 10am until 6pm to arrive. I thought that I’d grown accustom to the weather in Africa but getting off the plane was like walking into an oven, so hot and tired I arrived at the Guest house I was staying in and I could always console myself with the fact that Helen was on a 30 hr bus ride from Uganda.6 hrs late she arrives, frazzled as you can imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day we take the slow Ferry (Approx 3hrs) to Stone Town, capital of Zanzibar, at least we get 1st class for our foreigner rate of $20 each (locals pay about half). After a lot of fannying around looking at flop houses we find Zenji Hotel on budget. It’s HOT here and very humid, just coming to the end of the rainy season and you can tell. Off to the Africa House Hotel for sundowners. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1A8y0mTBI/AAAAAAAAANI/r1cISkm0oY0/s1600-h/DSC01449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1A8y0mTBI/AAAAAAAAANI/r1cISkm0oY0/s200/DSC01449.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335992546682620946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The AFHH was formerly the British Club, left to go to rack &amp; ruin when they left, now owned by an Omani business man who has restored it to its former glory. It even has darts &amp; Billiards. The next few days are spent exploring the maze of narrow streets and alleys avoiding the intermittent downpours and trying to catch a museum or two in order to demonstrate our cultural credentials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg0_pP5ADxI/AAAAAAAAAMo/MRfQH2jH6zE/s1600-h/DSC01343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg0_pP5ADxI/AAAAAAAAAMo/MRfQH2jH6zE/s200/DSC01343.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335991111376703250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday we eat at the top tower restaurant, part of the hotel creatively entitled 236 Hurumzi (It’s on Hurumzi st and guess what, its number...). This is the second tallest building in Stone town (not allowed to be taller than the palace) and the rooftop restaurant affords fabulous panoramic views of the town and bay. There’s great food, music and dancing. Although Helen reckons their hip thrusting is not in the same league as the Zambians, it works for me?! All in all a pretty memorable night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1ABDquESI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Qc0aJHzMDdk/s1600-h/DSC01361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1ABDquESI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Qc0aJHzMDdk/s200/DSC01361.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335991520412438818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Stop Kendwa beach, which is in the north of the island and about an hour form Stone own. After more messing about and haggling we agree a deal at Sunset Bungalows on an apartment overlooking the beach and sea. They also have a great restaurant/bar on the beach with sofas and comfy chairs as well as what looks like a defunct pool table, the whole place has a pretty cool vibe. So, it’s down to the beach for a spot of afternoon sun bathing. Almost deserted beach, pure white sand and azure blue perfectly still sea (sorry got into a bit of brochure speak, but it really is true). The sand is such pure silica that it doesn’t absorb any heat from the sun even in the hottest part of the day.  The next day we’re entertained on the beach by the antics of an attractive young lady who has decided that despite this being a Muslim country topless sunbathing was the order of the day. To be fair I was entertained, Helen less so, she was concerned about the cultural insensitivity. The story developed when a portly old  boy (In speedos Natch) who was with her started taking her picture, swiftly graduating to film and seemingly only focused on one thing. It all got a bit steamy and we came to the conclusion that they were either Italians or porn stars; either way explained the cultural insensitivity. &lt;br /&gt;We spent 3 days here lounging on the beach Helen getting a tan me sunburn, as per normal and not doing a lot else. Although we did check out the posh resort at the end of the beach who told us the cafe was closed despite there being people at the bar serving coffee, I don’t think we were up to “Snuff” as they might say at Westminster school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1ASw-LvZI/AAAAAAAAAM4/GM0ytuusMyA/s1600-h/DSC01416.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1ASw-LvZI/AAAAAAAAAM4/GM0ytuusMyA/s200/DSC01416.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335991824631446930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1AsPUMDyI/AAAAAAAAANA/CItKUCS7Mdg/s1600-h/DSC01432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg1AsPUMDyI/AAAAAAAAANA/CItKUCS7Mdg/s200/DSC01432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335992262273535778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Kendwa we moved to Bweju, via Stone Town, on the East coast of Zanzibar. Bweju is even more remote than Kendwa and the sand is even whiter &amp;finer, if that’s possible. There’s tremendous tidal shift here with the sea going out 100’s of metres at low tide which makes for an ever changing view but swimming only possible at certain times, oh well just lie about in the hammock then. No deal to be done this time but get a really cool bungalow at “Twisted Palm”. Another 4 idyllic days here lazing around eating great seafood and drinking G&amp;Ts, hope it never ends but it does. So back to Stone town for the Spice Tour, not great and back to Dar to get the train home.&lt;br /&gt;3 Days on a train goes surprisingly quickly but none the less we arrive 8-9 hrs late and have to get the bus back to Lusaka in the Dark, always an unnerving prospect but we get home safely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-2667392059942861754?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/2667392059942861754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=2667392059942861754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2667392059942861754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2667392059942861754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/05/theres-always-zanzibar.html' title='There&apos;ll always be Zanzibar'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/Sg0-hbNXJPI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ahdQwJNyaJ4/s72-c/DSC01325.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-2695347822304673415</id><published>2009-02-18T03:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T03:10:00.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Road to Lundazi</title><content type='html'>As part of my “Self induction” I’ve decided to hold semi structured interviews (A euphemism for not bothering to prepare properly) with all of the members of the Alliance that I’m working with, in order to familiarise myself with what they do, what their issues are and how ZAAA can help them. Of the 10 members 7 are in Lusaka and 2 in the Copperbelt (6 hrs away on the bus), all pretty straightforward but Thandizani are miles away, my last stop. Before I get into the trip maybe I should give some background to what I’m up to.&lt;br /&gt;The Zambia AIDS advocacy Alliance is an consortium of 10 NGOs who all have a common advocacy platform; “To mitigate the impact of HIV/AIDS on women” .The full mission also includes youths(Boys &amp;amp; girls) and children, which only leaves out men, I’m trying to get them to focus their target audience a bit but actually they want to include the elderly now as well, on a budget of £20k I’m not sure how this is going to be achieved. Their primary objective is to “Reduce the burden of care on women” particularly those who are Home Based Carers .&lt;br /&gt;The National Health Service is screwed, it has the budget of a medium sized PCT in the UK and a similar amount of Doctors. This means there’s one doctor for every 18,000 people, in the UK there’s one GP for every 1,800 people, let alone hospital doctors. Therefore, when the AIDs epidemic hit the hospitals simply couldn’t cope. As a result many communities formed volunteer led Home Based Care operations, initially driven by the church. At the start their role was to enable people to die in dignity at home with family and friends but with the arrival of cheap ART they are much more focused on supporting the clients to adhere to their ART regime and prepare them for getting back to a semblance of normal life. The women who do this are “Angels”, they don’t get paid, they often have AIDS themselves, they walk great distances to see patients often in appalling conditions without even an umbrella, operate with little or no equipment or training and to top things off are generally stigmatised by the local community who don’t understand and are scared if HIV/AIDS.&lt;br /&gt;The Zambian culture is such that women do the caring and men are the bread winners, so the burden of this care lies primarily with women. Our primary “ASK” (Advocacy speak) is to get more men involved in Care Giving. This, clearly, increases the number of Care Givers, reduces some of the issues surrounding women to men care giving and has the effect of sensitising men to some of the country’s gender inequalities.&lt;br /&gt;So, back to the trip. The members of ZAAA are a diverse bunch comprising of large national advocacy organisations as well as some small community led Home Based Care organisations, in total we represent over 100,000 people living with HIV/AIDS and over 2,000 care workers. Thandizani are in the Eastern province and I’m told it’s a nightmare to get there, mainly because of the Chipata to Lundazi rd but more of that later.&lt;br /&gt;It’s 7.30am Monday morning and I’m sat on the 8am bus waiting to leave for Chipata, 5 hrs later at 12.30p we decide to leave. In Zambia the buses only leave when they are full.  8hrs later I arrive in Chipata and walk round to Amanda &amp;amp; Anna’s, local VSOs who are putting me up. I go out for dinner with Amanda who is the current chair of the volunteer committee, from whom I’m taking over, to chat about the role and the issues I’ll face. I’ve somehow managed to become chair by default in what seems like a wholly undemocratic process.&lt;br /&gt;The next day I’m supposed to be picked up at 10am but kick my heels until 2.30pm waiting for Maurice &amp;amp; George ( VSO programme managers who are giving me a lift)nonplussed by the fact that we’re already 4.30hrs late they decide we should go for lunch at the local Indian restaurant, we leave at 3.30pm. The first half of the Chipata to Lundazi rd has had the tarmac ripped up and is now a graded dirt rd. I was unimpressed but the guys were hooting and a hollering about just how much of an improvement it was and getting excited about the fact that they could go at 70kph. As we got half way I began to see what they meant, we hit tarmac. This is like the rd to Basra with the bombed out vehicles removed, I’ve been less shaken up at Alton Towers. In fact it’s so bad that we spend most of the second half o the journey driving by the side of the rd because it’s better than the road?!? It’s only 100miles long and it takes nearly 4 hrs in a Toyota Hilux 4x4 going at pace. A colleague who lives here went by car (2wd) and it took 8hrs.&lt;br /&gt;I’m staying at John &amp;amp; Betty’s tonight (he’s welsh she’s Spanish) a couple we met during our in country induction, they’re good company and great fun. In a fit of unexpected generosity Maurice buys us dinner at the Castle. Which actually is a castle built by a lunatic welsh colonel god knows when, it’s sort of Gaudiesque and I think yer man Charlie would describe it as a carbuncle.&lt;br /&gt;We meet Thandizani the next day, an excellent NGO who offer a pretty comprehensive HIV/AIDS service to the region, in many instances better than the health service. We have a good meeting and I get to visit their Health Clinic which is as good as anything I’ve seen in Zambia, including private hospitals. Maurice &amp;amp; George keep me waiting for an hour and a half after saying they were just off for 10mins.It’s getting too much, so when we get back to Chipata I give them some GIFT feedback but I suspect it’s gone over their heads based on the response, which went along the lines of telling me not to be so English. The next day the bus leaves dead on time, 6am and I’m back in Lusaka by 1pm as Dave would say I must have stored up some good Karma somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-2695347822304673415?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/2695347822304673415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=2695347822304673415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2695347822304673415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2695347822304673415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/02/road-to-lundazi.html' title='The Road to Lundazi'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-1093304819773040869</id><published>2009-01-22T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T07:21:06.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr Livingstone I presume</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiOPZeexaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/amBPOXS9k2U/s1600-h/DSC01239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294137757161932194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiOPZeexaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/amBPOXS9k2U/s200/DSC01239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiOIYKWIaI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/qVujOK4ahuI/s1600-h/DSC01233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294137636549960098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiOIYKWIaI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/qVujOK4ahuI/s200/DSC01233.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We bunked off school on Friday and got the bus to Livingstone. It's only 350k but it took us 6.5 hrs, which apparantly was quicker than normal. On arrival we made our way to Jane's flat, another VSO volunteer who lives in Livingstone and after a quick refresh, off to the falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not sure of the value in trying to describe them as I'm not sure I have the words, but I guess to borrow from our American cousins "Awesome" gets you part of the way there. I'll content myself with a few geeky facts: The drop is over 100m, it's 1.8 km long and this is the 8th iteration of the falls. It's starting to get full as it gathers water from the rainy season, hence the enourmas amount of spray, by Easter the spray's so great you can't see the falls. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane ever the perfect hostess did us dinner in the evening and then off to "Jolly Boys" Backpackers (I know, what a name!!) for a few cheeky beers before the main event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiK-cDoIYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mR_XWGhXGYU/s1600-h/DSC01277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294134167261946242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiK-cDoIYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mR_XWGhXGYU/s200/DSC01277.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saturday we do the Livingstone Island tour. A speedboat takes you to Livingstone Island, in the middle of the falls and right on the edge (as the picture shows) where you have a swanky lunch and live it up. The highlight is a trip to Devil's pool. This consists of swimming &amp;amp; walking through the Zambezi approximately 30m from the precipice against pretty significant currents until you get to said Pool. The pool is right ont he edge of the falls and has a torrent of water running over it, which on the face of looks like you will simply be swpt over if you jump in, nonetheless that's what we did. Fortunately you don't get swept over the edge and you don't die but suffice to say the adrenaline was pumping as you sit in a pool less than 3ft from the dge of Victoria Falls with the mighty Zambezi gushing over you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiNpDcTWxI/AAAAAAAAAFA/W063Qd7pUJ0/s1600-h/Devil"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294137098412186386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiNpDcTWxI/AAAAAAAAAFA/W063Qd7pUJ0/s200/Devil%27s+pool.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiN2Mx7v6I/AAAAAAAAAFI/Sr5_C4267m4/s1600-h/DSC01292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294137324257132450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiN2Mx7v6I/AAAAAAAAAFI/Sr5_C4267m4/s200/DSC01292.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it's back to the Royal Livingstone for Tea &amp;amp; Cake, sundowners etc. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A big night followed in Livingstone culminating in a 5am finish in Chez nTembe a dodgy dance club. Up at 7am because of next door singing Gospel?!?! and then 7hrs back to Lusaka, what a weekend. Gotta go I'm late for my first ever yoga class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiIMk-JU2I/AAAAAAAAAEo/iX9lWWuDM8g/s1600-h/DSC01233.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-1093304819773040869?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/1093304819773040869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=1093304819773040869' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/1093304819773040869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/1093304819773040869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/01/dr-livingstone-i-presume.html' title='Dr Livingstone I presume'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SXiOPZeexaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/amBPOXS9k2U/s72-c/DSC01239.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-6813499709630799511</id><published>2009-01-08T02:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T03:21:43.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Senga Bay and beyond</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The 28th sees us on the speedboat heading towards Senga bay. John and I have an in depth discussion about what appears to be small black tornados emanating from the lack on the horizon, swapping more and more fantastical stories about their origin. As we get closer the driver tells us to cover our faces, we soon find out why. They are in fact columns of millions of flies, not a pleasant experience flying through them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXfSR0hT8I/AAAAAAAAAEY/b-5OeqU9Y9w/s1600-h/DSC01187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288878842530844610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXfSR0hT8I/AAAAAAAAAEY/b-5OeqU9Y9w/s200/DSC01187.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Senga bay is much less touristy than Cape Maclear and has the feel of faded grandeur about it. The beachfront is lined with large old colonial houses in various states of disrepair. You can imagine double barrelled names drinking G&amp;amp;T on the lawn at 6pm and all sorts of “Out of Africa” fun. I like it. Cool Running’s captures this feel and throws in a bit of hippy chic for flavour. Add to that a garnish of perfect sunsets &amp;amp; sunrises and you have a pretty heady combination &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288869253476956722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXWkHz6ujI/AAAAAAAAAEA/TjTHy5IYiTs/s200/DSC01204.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We meet a couple of likely lads on the beach the beach, one is called Mr Fantastic (Ne Simon), it could of been worse he could ave got mr boombastic!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's a Rasta cockney and rather took us aback by slowly drawling “I’ll get him on the dog &amp;amp; bone” when we asked them to organise us a cab. They sorted us out with a Barbie on the beach&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then took us to Salima (30 mins away) in the back of a pick up to see Lucius Banda, the biggest pop star in Malawi. A great night out capped off by beers in the back of the pick up home accompanied by Mr Fantastic &amp;amp; John (A former choirboy) trying to outdo each over singing bob Marley songs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXhdVepQgI/AAAAAAAAAEg/9KmOJqe1fh0/s1600-h/DSC01217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288881231514649090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXhdVepQgI/AAAAAAAAAEg/9KmOJqe1fh0/s200/DSC01217.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXYL2xI_BI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/bcP3a53t9bQ/s1600-h/DSC01226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288871035608300562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXYL2xI_BI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/bcP3a53t9bQ/s200/DSC01226.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The gang of four are staying in Cape Maclear for New Year so we have a quiet night and head to Lilongwe on New Year ’s Eve. Once there 3 of us head off to organise buses home while the rest go to Mabuya camp where we’re staying. The salesman entertains us when we negotiate on price by boldly telling us that they are the only service in town that goes to Lusaka, despite his next door neighbour boldly displaying bus services to Lusaka, so we go next door and get 25% cheaper. Mabuya is owned and run by a couple who are friends of one of our group, the wife is heavily pregnant so we stay there to see the new year in and then head for Serenity the “Rockingst” nightclub in town. The whole event is enhanced by the arrival of gorgeous Dutch girl along with her almost as gorgeous mate. They agree to hang out with us and join us at Serenity. It’s entertaining watching them fend off the advances of the locals who appear to have no shame. I ask GDG how she deals with it and in typical Dutch style she replies “I ask them politely to stop, if that doesn’t work I tell them to fuck off, that usually does the trick”. I have a long drunken conversation with Miller, sorry about the phone Bill but it was great to catch up. We get back late, watch the sunrise and go to bed. The next day is a quiet affair punctuated by a trip to the craft market, not advised with a hangover, the pestering is incessant. We’re up at 4am to get the bus home sadly the early to bed plan is scuppered by playing pool until midnight. As we arrive at the bus station “The crew” from our operator burst into song and dance because we’re going with them rather than next door. Despite this the competition leave before us (Buses in Africa only go when they are full, they don’t work to a time table, funny that). We catch them and pass them but then 10hrs in we break down for 2 hrs and are caught and passed by the enemy. One of our passengers, a Chinese guy, jumps ship and joins “Them”. He lives to regret this as we catch and pass them again an hour outside Lusaka, and home. It only took 16 hrs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-6813499709630799511?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/6813499709630799511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=6813499709630799511' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6813499709630799511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6813499709630799511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/01/senga-bay-and-beyond.html' title='Senga Bay and beyond'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXfSR0hT8I/AAAAAAAAAEY/b-5OeqU9Y9w/s72-c/DSC01187.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-2856256922151703753</id><published>2009-01-08T01:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T02:17:03.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cape Maclear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXRDvTvWoI/AAAAAAAAADo/OAvH-wx-w2A/s1600-h/DSC00243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288863199585589890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXRDvTvWoI/AAAAAAAAADo/OAvH-wx-w2A/s200/DSC00243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXQSfGIUQI/AAAAAAAAADg/x7zdW-JCnAU/s1600-h/DSC00233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288862353419948290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXQSfGIUQI/AAAAAAAAADg/x7zdW-JCnAU/s200/DSC00233.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We’ve done a deal with Austin (People Carrier guy) to take us directly to Cape Maclear it’s almost twice as expensive as public transport but much quicker and more comfortable, what hardened travellers we are. We managed to sort accommodation for our first night whilst in Dedza and this will allow us time to organise the rest of our stay once we get there. We spend a pleasant 3hrs in air conditioned luxury driving through the windy mountain rds enjoying the spectacular scenery and arrive before midday. Anna &amp;amp; I are in the dorm at Gecko Lounge whilst the rest are camping at Gaia Lodge, as it turns out we manage to stay like this until we leave on the 28th when we’ve organised a speedboat to take us to Cool Running’s, an Hostel in Senga bay further north on Lake Malawi.&lt;br /&gt;Cape Maclear is on the southern tip of Lake Malawi and a pain to get to, as a result it’s still relatively unspoilt. There’s a long arcing sandy beach, protected on the southern corner by an Island with another just north of centre. The water is still &amp;amp; clear and because it’s a lake not Salty which is a big bonus. The downside is that this is a Bilharzia area, I won’t bore you with the details but suffice to say you don’t want to get it. We’re told you just take a tablet 6wks later and you’ll be fine, this turns out to be something of an over simplification. The lake contains over 1,000 species of fish of which over 400 can only be found here, do if you’re into diving or snorkelling there’s plenty to be seen. The Gecko Lounge is pretty central on the beach, its run by a English guy, Simon, and is probably the most modern &amp;amp; professionally run lodge on the beach. The main building is “U” shaped facing out sea. The left prong is the bar area with great views out from and along the beach. The base of the “U” houses the bar and restaurant with right side being the dive &amp;amp; activity shop. Built in and around this base are chalets, a dorm and hammocked lawns. Gaia Lodge is similar but has a less corporate feel, is a little older and more hippy. Once in situ we pretty quickly managed to arrange ongoing accommodation at Gaia &amp;amp; Gecko and the ever helpful Simon has organised for accommodation at Cool running’s and for its speedboat to pick us up and take us to Senga bay where we plan to meet 4 other volunteers who could only make it for a week. The control freak in me is beginning to relax, maybe the “It’ll be alright on the night” philosophy isn’t so bad after all. Everyone’s making all sorts of plans to Kayak, snorkel, walk and so on I have only one plan, to weigh down an hammock. The next couple of days are spent in a relaxed haze of sun &amp;amp; sand. The big night on Christmas Eve is curtailed by the mother of all storms, the night sky is lit up a milky white by the lightning refracting through the clouds and rain the size of pear drops beats down on us. Despite everyone decamping early I sat up for a couple of hours with a beer watching the show. The only other event to speak of is the arrival in the dorm of a stunning Dutch girl, I kinda hope Becky’s prediction is gonna come true, sadly she’s young enough to be my daughter so no-one needs to go out hat shopping just yet. Christmas day is spent with a couple of cold beers on the beach in the company of an ex pat who’s set up and running a campsite on the beach. We had Christmas dinner in the evening at Gaia, they did their best to deliver a traditional dinner but truthfully it was as traditional as the setting and the weather.&lt;br /&gt;Having heard of our speedboat trip the VSOs we’re meeting are eager to have a go, so they get the boat from Senga bay to Cape Maclear and we take it back it. This has the advantage of dramatically reducing the cost and the disadvantage of us not getting together, oh well, they’re gonna come back to Senga bay in couple of days so we can catch up then.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288864152568450786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXR7NcjzuI/AAAAAAAAADw/HvGGJTwNC1E/s200/DSC01175.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-2856256922151703753?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/2856256922151703753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=2856256922151703753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2856256922151703753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2856256922151703753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/01/cape-maclear.html' title='Cape Maclear'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXRDvTvWoI/AAAAAAAAADo/OAvH-wx-w2A/s72-c/DSC00243.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-4130386309577405677</id><published>2009-01-07T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T01:51:15.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>first stop Dedza</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beth, Dave &amp;amp; I have been picked up and we’re off. Vinny has long way to go today (Best part of 1000k) and is not hanging back in the early morning gloom, taking advantage of the empty morning roads, it’s a touch hairy but we’re making good progress. We arrive in Chipata just before mid day say goodbye to VInny and hello to Anna &amp;amp; Amanda. They have an amazing house in the town centre which used to be an hostel, it has spacious grounds surrounded by an high protective wall. Inside has benefited from the female touch, in particular Amanda’s who’s been here some time, and is very much a home. John &amp;amp; Betty arrive later in the afternoon after an hellish trip from Lundazi a combination of rubbish roads, broken down buses and collapsed bridges, so we’re all together. Amanda, who’s even more anal than me has given John &amp;amp; I a briefing on house rules (apparently we look the most sensible) along with a neatly typed checklist of all the things we need to do before leaving e.g. which lights to leave on, doors to leave ajar etc to make it look like someone’s home and we’re off to the local curry house, which doesn’t do curry, or beer?! We end up in Hills cafe later and bump into some American Peace Corps who are “Letting their hair down” in a very American way. After waiting for the rain to stop, we hadn’t planned for this and are not well prepared, we head for the border. Getting across was incident free but there was a bit of a fight between minibus crews on the other side over who was going to take us to Lillongwe, eventually resolved, we’re on our way. We’ve got to the bus station sorted Malawian SIMs and sorted a bus to Dedza, it’s all going too smoothly. It was, Anna’s just had her bag snatched (Credit Cards, phone &amp;amp; money)what a bummer. It doesn’t help that the bus has decided to sit around for nearly two hours before leaving which means we don’t get to Dedza until after Dark, in the rain and by the way there’s nothing too colourful about the rainbow rest house. Next morning the sun’s out and the spirits are up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWWldy_z9GI/AAAAAAAAADI/XYbNYQqeppQ/s1600-h/DSC01082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288815268740723810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWWldy_z9GI/AAAAAAAAADI/XYbNYQqeppQ/s200/DSC01082.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288855685066534802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXKOViyL5I/AAAAAAAAADQ/n7bFrpDJoIQ/s200/DSC00223.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decide to sort out accommodation at the internet Cafe (Grandly titled the AY Business Centre) but sadly internet access is not available at the internet cafe, so it’s off to the mountain(?). As expected we’ve lost the trail and our now battling our way through the undergrowth on a steep incline for a couple of hours. We don’t get quite as far as the top but we do reach a magnificent plateau with stunning views. A quick spot of lunch and the descent begins, we’ve heard that the Dedza Pottery Coffee shop serves improbably good cheesecake and we want to get there before it shuts. Once we get to the road we have approximately 2km to go, having not kept up the pace John &amp;amp; Betty have fallen someway behind, as Betty in particular feels the pace, or so we thought, they suddenly go roaring passed us sat in the back of a “Matola”(Pick up truck)which drops them off at the right turn for “Dedza Pottery”. We catch and pass them, we’re on a mission, the coffee shop shuts at 5pm it’s 4.40pm and we still have the best part of 2k to walk. It happens again, this time Betty &amp;amp; John going flying by in a big people carrier waving and cheering, amidst incessant horn blowing. We arrive at 4.57pm dash into the coffee shop ready to plead with the staff to find that it shuts at 9pm, so feeling in deserving mood we plunge into a combination of Ice cold beer, proper filter coffee, real tea, cheese and various cake as well as main course somewhere along the line. This place is a real oasis with standards that outstrip anywhere we’ve seen so far in Malawi, in fact it wouldn’t be out of place in the Lake District, with beautiful tiered and manicured lawns overlooking dark and moody mountain ranges. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288857425488924786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWXLzpH0UHI/AAAAAAAAADY/K9Q2OTe1rLU/s200/DSC01114.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That night we pop in to the rest house bar for a couple of cheeky beers and spend some time with Wellington &amp;amp; Oscar a couple of Malawian old boys who entertain us with stories of their youthful adventures. Wellington was particularly entertaining; setting new standards in political incorrectness having shared with us his criteria for choosing a wife, “Beauty &amp;amp; Productivity”.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-4130386309577405677?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/4130386309577405677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=4130386309577405677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/4130386309577405677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/4130386309577405677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-stop-dedza.html' title='first stop Dedza'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SWWldy_z9GI/AAAAAAAAADI/XYbNYQqeppQ/s72-c/DSC01082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-8644919201383381314</id><published>2009-01-07T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T23:00:25.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to Malawi</title><content type='html'>So, it’s all organised  Christmas &amp;amp; new yr  in Malawi, There’s 6 of us going pre Christmas &amp;amp; another 6 joining between Christmas &amp;amp; New Year. The game plan is: we travel to Chipata which is on the border of Zambia &amp;amp; Malawi, early on the 20th (it’s an 8hr bus ride) and stay with Anna (Who’s coming with us  &amp;amp; Amanda (going to South Africa with other VSOs). From there to Dedza for some walking, on to Cape Maclear &amp;amp; then Senga bay for some lounging and finally Lillongwe for New Year. When I say organised what  I mean is; we know what we’re doing but haven’t sorted transport or accommodation yet so the control freak in me is feeling a little anxious,  I’ve been told to get with the culture and stop being so anal. I finally crack and email some hostels in Cape Maclear(The most remote spot we’re going to) the news is not good particularly for 6 people but it appears camping is generally possible, so we start to round up tents. Good news Beth has managed to get us in the Rainbow rest house in Dedza for two nights, sounds like a retirement home but its accommodation booked and I feel better for it. More good news, Vinny, a friend of a friend who works at the ministry of finance is heading to Mozambique for Xmas and has offered to give us a lift to Chipata, he’ll pick us at 5am. The night before we go is “Nilesh’s last stand” back to London Friday, so out for a few quiet beers to say goodbye. Nilesh is a consultant working in the Health Service sector, he’s been on a short term placement with the Eastern province mission hospitals, he’s a shrewd guy and good company. Unfortunately the quiet drink finishes at 5.30am in Alpha bar, this seems to be happening all too frequently.  Friday’s gonna be a tough day I’ve got loads to sort out before we leave tomorrow as well as preparing for the arrival of Taco, Lysette &amp;amp; a friend of theirs from Holland who are staying on their way to Namibia. They’re a Dutch couple based in the Copperbelt on a 1 yr placement. Taco is an Accenture consultant, who run a programme where they place and fund employees with VSO, Lysette is a nurse. Ok it’s midnight I’ve got myself sorted, been out for a meal  &amp;amp; a couple of beers with the Dutch and ready for bed up at four for hols, I really need them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-8644919201383381314?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/8644919201383381314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=8644919201383381314' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/8644919201383381314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/8644919201383381314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-going-to-malawi.html' title='I&apos;m going to Malawi'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-2874754800806812424</id><published>2008-12-19T05:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T05:19:35.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The cockpit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUueJ2p36JI/AAAAAAAAADA/U38zONkwqmk/s1600-h/cockpit2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281488880149194898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUueJ2p36JI/AAAAAAAAADA/U38zONkwqmk/s200/cockpit2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A big night out in Lusaka with Crispin, Laura, Tash, Perry &amp;amp; Il professorie. Me at Mikes Car Wash trying to look nonchalant after being told we were going into the compound. Later at the Cockpit enjoying the ambience before we managed to make ourselves unpopoular and needed a police escort off the premises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUudv1Df0lI/AAAAAAAAACw/m2n7MA8SRPQ/s1600-h/Me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281488433043198546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 97px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUudv1Df0lI/AAAAAAAAACw/m2n7MA8SRPQ/s200/Me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUudv1Df0lI/AAAAAAAAACw/m2n7MA8SRPQ/s1600-h/Me.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-2874754800806812424?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/2874754800806812424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=2874754800806812424' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2874754800806812424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/2874754800806812424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/cockpit.html' title='The cockpit'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUueJ2p36JI/AAAAAAAAADA/U38zONkwqmk/s72-c/cockpit2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-6382848351550141376</id><published>2008-12-19T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T05:09:58.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Smugglers'/><title type='text'>The local</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUucv4N18DI/AAAAAAAAACo/mOCRR7IIPaA/s1600-h/Smugglers.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281487334380269618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUucv4N18DI/AAAAAAAAACo/mOCRR7IIPaA/s200/Smugglers.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the famous Smugglers Inn, our local. I'm not sure about the Sun Sea &amp;amp; Piracy motif but I guess at least it's topical.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-6382848351550141376?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/6382848351550141376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=6382848351550141376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6382848351550141376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/6382848351550141376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/local.html' title='The local'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SUucv4N18DI/AAAAAAAAACo/mOCRR7IIPaA/s72-c/Smugglers.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-7408614356583999270</id><published>2008-12-08T02:31:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:48:47.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guitar Axe Hero</title><content type='html'>As some of you will have heard, despite being utterly tuneless I have taken up the guitar, Dave my flatmate has decided he’s going to teach me.  His unique mixture of fine musician &amp;amp; Buddhist monk will be tested to the limits but may be a combination that could work. He’s supremely confident I less so. I have managed to learn the major chords i.e. where the fingers should go as oppose to actually being able to play them and have nearly mastered the basic chord sequences of “Wild Thing” &amp;amp; “She’ll be coming round the mountain”, neither of which I recognise when I play them. My next piece of homework is to learn “When the saints go marching in” apparently it’s similar to “Yi Yi Yippee”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-7408614356583999270?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/7408614356583999270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=7408614356583999270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7408614356583999270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7408614356583999270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/guitar-axe-hero.html' title='Guitar Axe Hero'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-3075729301145359818</id><published>2008-12-08T02:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:45:26.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old footballers never die, they just get slower &amp; need more neoprene</title><content type='html'>In an attempt to recover some fitness after my post Bristol Half marathon slump I’ve started playing football with Sam  who’s far too good &amp;amp; a guy called Justin, who for a white boy’s pretty good too. We play at the woodlands Stadium but don’t let the name deceive you. The pitch as level and evenly covered as a teneriffe pool table and the floodlights merely pinpoint the pockets. A mixed group of expats and Zambians play, the expats being older, wiser &amp;amp; slower the locals young fit and incredibly skilful. As a result we hang around in defence waiting for the others to finish charging around the pitch in a mass of whirling arms &amp;amp; legs and approach a goal, we then relieve them of the ball pass it to one of our Zambians and start the whole process again. The only exception to this rule is a Jordanian called, thoughtfully, “Jihad” who goal hangs all game abusing his team mates for just about everything they do but primarily for not defending properly when they don’t have the ball and for not giving him the ball when they do. Fortunately he’s always in white so I can avoid being on his team otherwise I think we’d fall out&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-3075729301145359818?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/3075729301145359818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=3075729301145359818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3075729301145359818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3075729301145359818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/old-footballers-never-die-they-just-get.html' title='Old footballers never die, they just get slower &amp; need more neoprene'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-3015619388119620619</id><published>2008-12-08T02:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:42:55.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STz6IFrmsmI/AAAAAAAAABY/KWT_RB-qxuw/s1600-h/Carling.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277367880242344546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STz6IFrmsmI/AAAAAAAAABY/KWT_RB-qxuw/s200/Carling.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STz4ZtnqB9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/UtyH8rR1mFI/s1600-h/Carling.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It’s a small world... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a cruel twist of fate I walked around the corner form where I live today to be confronted by a Carling (Black Label) 48 sheet telling me “I’ve earned it”, I know over 21yrs, Martin what are you up to? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone comes back from trips to various far flung places with stories of having met people from “Just down the road”, well I’m no different.&lt;br /&gt;Rachel, another VSO volunteer works at the same organisation and in the same office as me comes from Chalfont St Giles. She’s been here for a while and is engaged to Sam, a local Zambian. I’ve also met a guy called Ian who works for UNICEF, who comes from Prestwood and used to drink in the Kings Head, which apparently is a Sports Bar now, criminal. So that’s the sunny south 2 The Grim North 0 what’s the matter is this volunteering thing too home counties for you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-3015619388119620619?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/3015619388119620619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=3015619388119620619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3015619388119620619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3015619388119620619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-small-world.html' title=''/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STz6IFrmsmI/AAAAAAAAABY/KWT_RB-qxuw/s72-c/Carling.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-7945065390643509981</id><published>2008-12-01T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T22:52:32.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A night at the theatre</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STTbH7F6KjI/AAAAAAAAABI/EzZe2tf0RH4/s1600-h/KTH.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275081992725735986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STTbH7F6KjI/AAAAAAAAABI/EzZe2tf0RH4/s200/KTH.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week we’ve put the brakes on partying and have booked tickets to the Lusaka playhouse, which as the end of our road. The play is called “Kiss the Hangman” and was written by a Zambian from the Southern Province about 10yrs ago. In typical Zambian style we had to sit through interminable speeches, the Mayor’s being a particular gem. He was trying to say let’s restore the theatre to its former glory but only managed to say that this place is a real dump compared to 15yrs ago and take forever saying it. On a brighter note we all sang the national anthem which is well cool and as the Zambians are great singers our out of tune warbling were well and truly countered. It’s a two hander between the hangman and his hangee (What do you call the object of a hangman’s labours?). I think it’s meant to be a metaphor for the troubles in Africa but it was a bit difficult to follow, no-one here sits in hushed silence during the play. Not only do phones go off people answer them, have a natter, pass them on to their mates for a bit more of a chat and eventually ring off, equally if they enjoy a bit they’ll guffaw &amp;amp; laugh or have another chat about the merits of the scene, line etc. This gives the place more the feel of a gig rather than a play which is great fun but it does make it difficult to keep up. The basic premise: It’s the victims last night and he’s talking to the Hangman (Represents the State) who wants him to confess his crimes, the victim (Represents all who challenge the state) refuses to as he believes his committed no crime. The hangman treats him badly (Beatings, ritual humiliations etc) and even tries to trick him into confessing by disguising himself as a clergyman. The victim survives his ordeals and his last act is to forgive the hangman for what he’s done and is about to do, kissing his feet to prove his. The old hang man can’t cope with this and becomes, I believe the Americans call it “Conflicted”. Clearly he can’t hang the man so puts him under house arrest whilst he decides what do next. Exeunt stage left. It was thoroughly entertaining and thought provoking, as the only “Muzungo” there we were invited to meet the cast afterwards but blessedly not the Mayor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-7945065390643509981?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/7945065390643509981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=7945065390643509981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7945065390643509981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7945065390643509981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/night-at-theatre.html' title='A night at the theatre'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/STTbH7F6KjI/AAAAAAAAABI/EzZe2tf0RH4/s72-c/KTH.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-7346711661338843862</id><published>2008-12-01T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T22:47:28.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Elections</title><content type='html'>This week saw the presidential elections, the previous president Levy Mawanwasa had died in Paris in Aug. Whilst Zambia’s a peaceful country with a stable democracy it’s a little tense and VSO have told us not to go to work the day after the elections just in case of riots, there had been some isolated incidents in some of the rougher compounds e.g. Garden, after the previous election. This in addition to the official day off we get for the election means a short week. The main candidates are Rupiah Banda acting president and Sato Pabwate leader of the opposition. There’s also a guy nick named HH who’s popular in certain areas but has no hope of winning. He’s a bit of a Tony Blair/David Cameron character, young, thrusting and image led. However, in attempting to sound  like them he’s alienated a lot of the normal Zambians who just don’t get it when he says things like “I’m going to increase your capacity for wealth generation by 7.2%” or, of the army “I want to turn it into a multi-dimensional rapid reaction force” even the army are a bit confused. Sato just says “If you have K1,000 in your pocket I’ll make it K2,000” . So, HH is out, never really a convincing candidate, it’s between Sato &amp;amp; Rupiah. I’ve been told that in Africa the residing GVT only ever lose an election when they want to and there’s a little bit of unrest with claim &amp;amp; counter claim about planned election rigging. To be fair after the event they were praised by international election monitoring body of some sort for the way the election was run. It also looks like it’s going to be a close run thing with Sato heading out in front &amp;amp; Rupiah chasing. This is because Sato is popular in urban areas where votes get counted quicker and rupiah the other way round. Sato’s call to action seems to reference a combination of everyone getting on Noah’s ark to be safe and everyone pulling together to row in the same direction as a result you see loads of peopled driving around Lusaka with passengers leaning out of the windows “air rowing” a pretty surreal sight. Anyway the night of the elections comes and we all go out to celebrate an ex VSOs birthday despite concerns about election night tension, as it turns out it was absolutely fine and a very Lusakian night was had by all. A couple of days later and all the predictions come true, Sato rushed out into a lead by was caught and guess what the ruling party won.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-7346711661338843862?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/7346711661338843862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=7346711661338843862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7346711661338843862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7346711661338843862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/12/elections.html' title='The Elections'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-7637059279143897104</id><published>2008-11-02T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T23:18:06.098-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We move to our accommodation on Saturday morning and have been told to be packed and ready to go by 8am at the latest, our driver turns up at 11.30 by 12 we’re off and by 1pm we’re back where we started, Jacob, our driver had forgotten the house keys. This is particularly galling as we suspected this may happen so cunningly asked him if he had the keys, he confirmed to us that “Yes he did” with a beaming smile. So eventually we’re in by 2pm, only 6 hours late another lesson in “Africa time”, I will never moan about the “Go To Market” process again!!!&lt;br /&gt;Our House is a 1930’s semi, which is part of a compound of 6 in Minerva Court, which on Ituna rd a leafy avenue lined with Jacaranda &amp;amp; Red fire trees in the heart of Lusaka. We have 3 bedrooms, kitchen, dining room, Living room &amp;amp; shower!! I’m sharing with a guy called Dave from South East London so we have a spare room and have immediately become the Lusaka Hotel for our “Hick country cousin” VSOs when visiting town. At the end of our rd is the Lusaka playhouse &amp;amp; theatre, holiday Inn &amp;amp; Intercontinental Hotels, so all in all a pretty civilised existence. A 20 min walk west gets you to Cairo &amp;amp; ChaChaCha rds which is where the average Zambian hangs out &amp;amp; about 40mins East gets you to Manda Hill &amp;amp; arcades shopping centres, where the Whites &amp;amp; middle classes hang out and at all points in between are dotted bars &amp;amp; restaurants, oddly often in the middle of a residential st, Northmead is for trendy bars &amp;amp; clubs.&lt;br /&gt;I started work today and have immediately run into more examples of “Africa time”, it’s normal for meetings to start an hour &amp;amp; half late as you wait for people to gradually wander in. A particularly frustrating aspect is that people put their heads around the door see that no one’s there yet and wander off again, thus perpetuating the problem. I’m based at one of the members offices (ZARAN) which is next door to Manda Hill shopping Centre, you can see this from Google earth if you’re that way inclined. My role has swiftly changed from Advisor to coordinator, which seems to mean that I’m now responsible for doing everything. I’m coordinating a group of 11 NGOs who have common agenda around reducing the burden on those who care for Aids sufferers (generally women &amp;amp; small children).This is a particular issue for women who are often the main breadwinners, so if they’re caring for someone it’s difficult for them to earn an income, which is why they often turn to prostitution which in turn exposes them to a high risk of getting HIV/Aids themselves, a particularly unpleasant vicious circle&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been at work 2 wks and already had 2 bank holidays( Zambia has 12 per yr) and a bonus day off, to celebrate Independence day &amp;amp; for the presidential elections. On one of these days I took a walk up to the local Golf club to check out prices etc. It looks like I might be able to afford a monthly game, assuming I buck up my ideas about appearance. They were very distressed at my shirt hanging outside my trousers, despite my protestations about about walking 40mins in 35c temperatures and surely you can give a Muzungo (Foreigner) a break, there are even rules about length &amp;amp; colour of sock. They eventually relented and allowed me in for a cup of tea, in bone china no less.&lt;br /&gt;Natasha a VSO from Monze(2/3 hours from Lusaka) has joined us for the long election weekend. Born in Zambia but brought up in London Tash is something of a force of nature and has the locals completely confused, she looks local but talks in pure estuary, innit!! We met up with a bunch of other volunteers tonight at a bar called Smugglers Inn which was showing the Arsenal v Tottenham game, it was pandemonium when Tottenham equalised I thought I’d been transported to North London for a moment. It seems that the premiership has replaced historic tribal allegiances and by all accounts you’re as likely to see Zambians fighting over their team as anything else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-7637059279143897104?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/7637059279143897104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=7637059279143897104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7637059279143897104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7637059279143897104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/11/we-move-to-our-accommodation-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-4236966532495199066</id><published>2008-10-25T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T05:22:22.270-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The 18th at Lusaka GC'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQM1UyO-rII/AAAAAAAAABA/7legLdChong/s1600-h/DSC00109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261107420897127554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQM1UyO-rII/AAAAAAAAABA/7legLdChong/s320/DSC00109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-4236966532495199066?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/4236966532495199066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=4236966532495199066' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/4236966532495199066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/4236966532495199066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_4840.html' title=''/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQM1UyO-rII/AAAAAAAAABA/7legLdChong/s72-c/DSC00109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-3532428584237055394</id><published>2008-10-25T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T05:24:34.565-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My House My Home'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMz3xNCnII/AAAAAAAAAA4/NImILaur5wQ/s1600-h/Our+house.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261105822892727426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMz3xNCnII/AAAAAAAAAA4/NImILaur5wQ/s320/Our+house.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-3532428584237055394?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/3532428584237055394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=3532428584237055394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3532428584237055394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/3532428584237055394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_4369.html' title=''/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMz3xNCnII/AAAAAAAAAA4/NImILaur5wQ/s72-c/Our+house.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-8202947820744814860</id><published>2008-10-25T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T05:25:59.047-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In country training Lusaka'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oh the Sacrifice'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMx7QTvPtI/AAAAAAAAAAw/EnkL-D5o3JY/s1600-h/View+from+barn+bar.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261103683758669522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMx7QTvPtI/AAAAAAAAAAw/EnkL-D5o3JY/s320/View+from+barn+bar.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-8202947820744814860?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/8202947820744814860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=8202947820744814860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/8202947820744814860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/8202947820744814860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_25.html' title=''/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMx7QTvPtI/AAAAAAAAAAw/EnkL-D5o3JY/s72-c/View+from+barn+bar.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-7948615471270219415</id><published>2008-10-25T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T05:26:45.079-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lusaka International Airport'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMsM6bPyiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/lO1_KGFbQ4U/s1600-h/airport.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261097390052461090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMsM6bPyiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/lO1_KGFbQ4U/s320/airport.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-7948615471270219415?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/7948615471270219415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=7948615471270219415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7948615471270219415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/7948615471270219415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SQMsM6bPyiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/lO1_KGFbQ4U/s72-c/airport.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7646151732827387857.post-5521490235853019819</id><published>2008-10-19T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T23:51:59.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One "Let's off rd"</title><content type='html'>Where to start? I guess at the beginning and that would mean Heathrow Terminal 5 what a place. Check in terminals that print your boarding card and let you pick your seat, fast bag drops and no queues for security, they even promised not to lose my bags. I sat next to Martha on the plane who produces wildlife documentaries for the BBC, her main focus is Polar but as her sister lives in Zambia she’d managed to wangle the trip .Mind you 2 10hr flights for 2 days filming doesn’t sound that glamorous. It turns out that her sister’s brother in law’s partner (Keep up) is “Someone big” in the Aids community in Lusaka (Funded by the Bill Gates institute no less).  Martha was kind enough to get me her number so I get 1st prize for best VSO networking before landing in Country, funny that, more networking than I managed in 20yrs at Coors?!&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at 6am, it was 22c. I can confirm that Lusaka airport is not quite terminal 5, I had my first experience of “Africa time” whilst queuing at immigration, not only did it take forever but people were randomly whisked through the VIP channel for no apparent reason, I may have been more sanguine about this if I’d been selected, sadly not.&lt;br /&gt;We were taken from the airport to the Barn Motel on the outskirts of Lusaka, a place that the phrase “Faded Grandeur” could have been invented for. However, it’s got 2 pools and a cool poolside bar, tough stuff this volunteering. We’re here for our first week of in Country training.&lt;br /&gt;Induction amongst other things consisted of a day trip around Lusaka, where we went to Kenneth Kuanda’s house, the museum &amp;amp; a ”Cultural village”  which was in the middle of an housing estate. At the Museum our educated &amp;amp; articulate told us about Kenneth Kuanda’s special walking stick that made him invisible to the police, enabling him to continue with independence struggle unhindered. After questioning it became clear that he took this very seriously and utterly believed in its mythical powers, he also told us about men in the Western province who still had the ability to turn into Lions and crocodiles at will?! This is a little concerning.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight it’s the reception at the British High commission celebrating 50 yrs of the VSO. Zambia was one of the first four countries VSO went to and has been here for 46yrs. Interestingly, the High Commissioner should be High Commissioners as it consists of  an husband &amp;amp; wife team who are job sharing in what I understand is an unprecedented act. Unfortunately and with perfect timing I got my first dose of “Delhi Belly” an hour before going so spent most of my time in the Commish’s Loo redecorating, I hope that’s not treasonable. I managed to attend and nearly look interested for the speeches but spent most of my time worrying about the fact that that the presenters were between me and the loo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7646151732827387857-5521490235853019819?l=jphat1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/feeds/5521490235853019819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7646151732827387857&amp;postID=5521490235853019819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/5521490235853019819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7646151732827387857/posts/default/5521490235853019819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jphat1.blogspot.com/2008/10/day-one-lets-off-rd.html' title='Day One &quot;Let&apos;s off rd&quot;'/><author><name>Tankster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05123612270051508848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='15' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mfh-_9-SfGM/SO35xaM2RbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RkFtR-K52r0/S220/TF.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
