If you want to talk about falling off of the face of the earth, and if you want to experience it: Lusaka. A flat, small town with one main boulevard, and almost nothing to see. A few tall buildings exist along the main street, but otherwise it looks like a stop in the middle of nowwhere. In fact, I would give it my vote for being the arbitrary capital of nowwhere.
In the middle of the southern African savannah, which stretches on endlessly in every direction, Lusaka sits. It takes a long time to finally arrive to its "downtown" from the airport, and even then it will look like nothing more than a small town to anyone from the first world. In effect, it's a city that's not a city.
I was lucky enough to skirt around the usual taxicab fleecing at the airport, by trying to get a night at a rather upscale hotel, for a deal - us$45 instead of us$75. They drove me to the hotel, but their manager was out, and the goody two-shoes desk girl would not give me the price we had bargained on. Well, that's too bad for them - they just lost a customer. The honesty of the man driving me was a bit startling, as was his friendliness - "next time, you bring enough money to stay at our hotel, okay?"
"Okay," I replied. It was more the principal of bargaining than the price.
He dropped me off at a cheaper hotel, but I couldn't find a reception desk. And there you go, I thought - I'm downtown now, and it cost me nothing to get here. That's not a bad deal. Another taxi ride further down the road cost US$2, where I began to walk. The hostels that LP had listed in its book were nonexistent; I love travelling with Lonely Planet books. Eventually I came across one that was mentioned to be closed: Hubert's Hostel. I walked in, and was greeted by an African fellow.




I should mention that the official language of Zambia is english; there are eight main tribal languages, but the unifying language was chosen to be english. Not only because their imperialist colonizers were english, but also because they gained their independence late enough to notice that english was quickly becoming the language of business. So thus they gave their citizenry a head start by designating their official language as english.
"Where did you find out about this place?" the man asked. "I read about it, and noticed it as I was walking by, so I though I would come in and ask," I said.
"Well, this hostel is for teachers only," he said. "But we will let you stay for one night."
"Really? I hope it is okay," I said. I was surprised at the 'teachers only' designation, which seemed quite strange.
The room was basic but private, with a shared bathroom - I had a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe all to myself. For the grand price of US$3.50 for the night. All of my basic necessities for so little compared to the other hotel. for once, I managed to save money upon my first day in a new country.




And finally, a chance to really have a rest after my ordeals in Vancouver trying to obtain a replacement passport at the last minute, in New York trying to obtain my original passport, and in London trying to ship off my air ticket so I wouldn't have to carry it around with me and risk losing it - there isn't anything worth seeing in Lusaka anyways. But if you're like me, you'll get a kick out of being in a town so unassuming and so laid back. The best thing to do is marvel at the endless expanse of plains in every direction. And maybe have a cheap beer or two - Mosi Beer isn't too bad, and a good deal at 700 kwacha, about US$0.25 a bottle.









To Mongu
Back