Category Archives: Zambia

Since 1993 I’ve been a regular visitor to Zambia. Like Tsetse fly bites, it gets into your system and itches when you least expect it! I never feel quite right if I haven’t been for more than a year. A journalist recently said I should be an honorary Zambian for what I’m doing for Zambia. I’m doing very little, to be honest, but I was thrilled he said it. If the sales of my book A Wake of Vultures can help to make the Heritage Centre for the Luangwa Valley a reality I’ll be happy. Here’s the link: And if you want to help here’s that link!

An un-diplomatic incident, a dead motor & a perilously pregnant woman

The men who go for water don’t make it back till after dark. My ‘kitchen’ – the back of their vehicle – is covered in bits of charcoal and running with water. But never mind. I rustle up another macaroni … Continue reading

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In which bravery is rewarded with a carrot, but not a pear

It rained in the night. What is it about us? This is August, the southern hemisphere’s winter, the dry season. It seems wherever we venture in the Northern Province we act as rain-bringers. Last time it was at a rock … Continue reading

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Naked bathers, stone tools, the eleventh tuna sandwich and the last straw

Rising with the sun I slide out of our tent feet first, past the sailcloth ‘Ratbags’ containing all our (present) worldly goods. At the far end of the campsite stand three women, calling at us. They lapse into silence and … Continue reading

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An historic surrender, the last flushing loo and Custard with charcoal

November 1918. The end of the war to end all wars. Would that it had been so. We’re heading to Mbala. In 1918 Mbala was called Abercorn. The town was – is – close to the border between Northern Rhodesia … Continue reading

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A spot of welding, a leopard and a mission

He’s looking worried. It was meant to be an overnight stop – but there’s no way we’ll fit everything in and reach Kalambo in time to pitch camp by daylight. We have to stay another night, but not at Thorn … Continue reading

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Harrison Fording in Zambia. (Archaeologists head north, the hard way)

Wet vehicle batteries aren’t good news. As any fule kno. But it’s not always easy to keep them dry. When crossing a river, for example, at a little too fast a pace. It’s our first river – unless you count … Continue reading

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It’s been a while. But there’s something in the air. An email from my friend the huntress, asking if I’m going to Zambia this year. Who knows? But in my head – now there’s a different matter. Time for a … Continue reading

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