The trumpeting caused a slight confusion, while we broke down our camp. We knew there were no elephants at Kapishya, but we knew that recognisable trumpeting.
Three had ventured to Kapishya from North Luangwa Park and scared the living daylights out of the local villages. Mark Harvey smiled and remarked that it felt good to hear the Jumbos again on his farm.
The road to Mpika was interesting and fulfilling as well. We were crossing over the Central African Watershed, the divide between rivers flowing Northwest into the Great Congo and Southeast into the mighty Zambezi. The watershed was once considered the source of the Nile by earlier explorers and vastly explored by Dr David Livingstone and Henry Morton Stanley. We were riding across the terrain once thought to be “darkest Africa” and the land which sparked the sense of adventure in most Victorian boys.
After Mpika we had 250 km to Serenje. Locals had warned us of the lack of facilities between the two. We loaded enough water and hit the road. After 111 km of fighting a headwind and dodging potholes we reached a familiar resting landmark for Marc and me: a communication tower.
These towering beacons were our lifeline through Mozambique, and the flat ground perfectly suited for camping. The difference between communication towers in Mozambique and Zambia is that in Zambia you have security guards living at the towers, whereas in Mozambique they are surrounded by a village.
So we asked permission to camp from the guard. No problem at all. We were even brought water and given a prime spot equipped with a bench under the cover of trees.
Marc cooked up an unreal soya chilli-con-carne served over a heap of spaghetti. We both worried about the possible outcome of the spicy follow-through.
The elderly guard named Genesis asked very politely if we would post him a photo of all of us chatting around the camp. A payment for his hospitality, he said, and so he would not forget us when his memory starts fading.
We departed early the next morning, all fuelled up on Oat-so-Easy and bananas, to set a new tour record. We knew Serenje was 140 km away and it was obtainable. We had a contact too, so even if we reached it late, we had a place to sleep.
Our lunch break was a huge motivation. We camped out in the shade of an umbrella tree after knocking back 90 km. After a lunch of tuna and avocado sandwiches we reflected on the tour and how far we had come.
The road was long, but we were determined and reached Serenje before three in the afternoon. Our longest distance covered in a day so far. After the second cold beer, our host Steve asked if we had travelled a distance to Serenje. We had a short silence before chirping out our new record.
After a good meal we passed out in the conference room of Mapotela Lodge, dead to the world with a new record under our belts.
