mkhonzo- did you go to Mozambique?
Oct 24th, 2006, 06:20 AM
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mkhonzo- did you go to Mozambique?
Hi mkhonzo-
I found an old post from back in July which mentioned you were planning a September trip to Mozambique. Did you go? How was it? There have not been many reports from Mozambique,so I would be interested to hear your comments.
Cruisinred
I found an old post from back in July which mentioned you were planning a September trip to Mozambique. Did you go? How was it? There have not been many reports from Mozambique,so I would be interested to hear your comments.
Cruisinred
Oct 31st, 2006, 01:40 AM
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Hi Cruisinred,
Regret that I cancelled the Moz trip, ended up walking in the South Luangwa Valley and Tiger fishing at Ntwala instead.
Seems much has been said about those two destinations so no point posting a trip report, but if you wanna know I'll do the telling. Not much of a photographer these days, so only have a handful of point and shoot shots to share.
I was at Indigo Bay earlier in the year though & that was fabulous, also in planning my trip to Moz for this past quarter have accumulated a good deal of info in getting there back etc.
Let me know what I can offer up.
Cheers.
MKZ
Regret that I cancelled the Moz trip, ended up walking in the South Luangwa Valley and Tiger fishing at Ntwala instead.
Seems much has been said about those two destinations so no point posting a trip report, but if you wanna know I'll do the telling. Not much of a photographer these days, so only have a handful of point and shoot shots to share.
I was at Indigo Bay earlier in the year though & that was fabulous, also in planning my trip to Moz for this past quarter have accumulated a good deal of info in getting there back etc.
Let me know what I can offer up.
Cheers.
MKZ
Nov 1st, 2006, 07:50 AM
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honestly Sant'ri I was thrilled with the SLV. It is not the first visit to that neck of the woods though, last year I walked the Nsefu sector with Remote Africa from Tafika and later Chikoko and Crocodile. Also headed up to Mwaleshi in the NLV during the same trip.
BBut this one I immersed myself in the BCC staying at Bilimungwe, Chindeni and Chamilandu. Eacch camp has its unique character and charm, which I enjoyed at all. The BCC is NOT for everyone, it is a walking experience primarliy, however does offer night drives, which I found to be simply extraordinary.
Memorable walks, traced the course of the luangwa river. I did two large hikes, Bili to Chindeni & Chindeni to Chamiland. On the former we stalked a few elephant, found a displaced hippo in a drying dambo, plus of course saw many of the plains game species, thornicrofy ggiraffe, impala, zebra, puku and so on.
If it were about sightings only, we had the good fortune of following three leopard on the hunt, had a few encounters with a variety of lion, in fact as I remember it saw a different pride of lions daily.
Had leopard mating next to my chalet, had elephants wandering through camp and so on. My lasting memory though is of understated comfort as close the wilderness as one can possibly get. At these camps (only sleep three couples) you feel and are exceptionally remote and seperated from the natural environment by a grass, reed or canvas wall.
hari, it;s awesome!!
I wrote an essay, which I'll paste next.
BBut this one I immersed myself in the BCC staying at Bilimungwe, Chindeni and Chamilandu. Eacch camp has its unique character and charm, which I enjoyed at all. The BCC is NOT for everyone, it is a walking experience primarliy, however does offer night drives, which I found to be simply extraordinary.
Memorable walks, traced the course of the luangwa river. I did two large hikes, Bili to Chindeni & Chindeni to Chamiland. On the former we stalked a few elephant, found a displaced hippo in a drying dambo, plus of course saw many of the plains game species, thornicrofy ggiraffe, impala, zebra, puku and so on.
If it were about sightings only, we had the good fortune of following three leopard on the hunt, had a few encounters with a variety of lion, in fact as I remember it saw a different pride of lions daily.
Had leopard mating next to my chalet, had elephants wandering through camp and so on. My lasting memory though is of understated comfort as close the wilderness as one can possibly get. At these camps (only sleep three couples) you feel and are exceptionally remote and seperated from the natural environment by a grass, reed or canvas wall.
hari, it;s awesome!!
I wrote an essay, which I'll paste next.
Nov 1st, 2006, 07:56 AM
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A WILD ZAMBIAN DAWNING.
The meal was hearty. The company was jovial. The setting was the remote. Bilimungwe camp in the South Luangwa Valley in Zambia.
We sat under the eaves of the thatched roof watching the night sky spiral around us. Our glasses charged with Remy Martin our tongues loosened around any topic that rose before the shooting stars fell. And then the heaviness of sleep sent us on our escorted ways to bed. I had barely removed my sandals before I was snatched from my mosquito net surrounded world and cast into a deep sleep.
I woke three hours later. The warm glow of the Remy long gone, chased away by the goblins that come from indulgence, I felt a dull rhythmic cerebral thud and a swollen bladder. The netted ghost tripped me as I staggered to the bathroom, wondering through the sleepy haze what in fact had stirred me from my never-never land. Business complete I fumbled in the darkness pulling at the many folds of the net before it finally parted and I was once again able to collapse gingerly upon my pillow. I lay still, listening to the silence of the night. Then I heard it.
The cabins at Bilimungwe are made of reed and grass, the windows aren’t, merely gaping holes covered with a taught length of fly screening. The South Luangwa is a remote valley: a thriving eco-system along the banks of the now idle Luangwa river. The sun bakes the valley for months, then the rain floods everything forever changing the course of the river and dispelling many big ebony, teak and fig trees on a long crushing cruise to the Zambezi basin. It was in the last few days of the baking sun that I was there, the river still lazy and the game teased by the scent of rain from the east.
It was a deep throaty, grunting rasping almost hoarse call that reverberated through the glade of our camp. The night air remained still. Nothing responded to the challenge. The baboons, normally chattering and chortling from their lofty roosts, were silent. The grazing impala did not even trot a hoof. Odd since the leopard sounded as if it was aside my cabin, feet from my throbbing head. I waited for it to call again. I loved the sound. My blood raced as the image of the leopard in the night danced through my brain. I could see him walking steadily, head high, white tipped tail flicking as he sprayed the bush scuffing his hind legs in his emission and continuing on, stopping to rasp out his name and domain.
Some moments passed, the bush held its breath, I did too fearful that if I inhaled too deeply I might miss the next utterance from the prince of cats. I was rewarded as the sound came in from the north, further away and softer. This time is was not quite as hoarse, not as loud and not as deep. It was another, and she was responding with more urgency than him. I lay and wondered at the outcome: two leopard, a still night and a grass camp under the dawning sky.
Still, I listened. Yards from my bed I could hear the dried mopane leaves rustle under the weight of padded feet. I could hear the grunts of greeting, the rasping roar began, this time a duet, then deep growling as if being emitted through a throat full of water, then a scary tearing almost guttural bark, pads on the leaves and then silence. Once again my mind raced and blurry images sharpened. I imagined him, the bigger of the two with his large block shaped head, mounting her, a smaller cat, crouched low on the ground, tail aside, muzzle wrinkled at the pain of entry, the growl of satisfaction at with-drawl and the hurried blur of clawed paws lashing out at his neck bighting jaws. I could see him spring back in the darkness, as she rolled over, showing her light belly and flashing tipped tail. He would stand yards away gazing at his conquest, annoyance and delight, to roll over in the grass and watch for her next move. She would wait. The driving urge eventually stalking her close to him, she’d be crouched sidling up to him, offering her tail to his face and rushing forward enticing him to another brief joust.
I could hear the calls, indifferent to my sleeping companions and my prying ears they continued into the darkness. I listened tracking their moves away from the camp, across the sudden break in the glade: a dumbo dried earlier in the season, now a well manicured grassland that attracted herds of waterbuck, impala, and baboon, and on into the riparian forest that guarded our camp from the Luangwa river.
The calls continued just until the false dawn, I could hear him heading south and her heading north. She must have started to hunt. The silent impala now blasted the sharp alarm. The sound ricocheting through the heard, then silence. The sound of hooves, a brief stampede meant she had been seen, smelt or heard, then silence. From the far side another call, a sharp blast, once again ricocheting through the heard and echoing through the valley, then silence. From the back of the camp, the baboon could be heard waking. Probably stirred to life by the impala they were shaking branches, shouting long and hard. The big males deep howls seemed to excite the shriller youngsters to greater levels of enthusiasm as the trees now became a cacophony of delirious asylum sounds.
I lifted up on my elbow and watched as the sky burned from a dull gray through shades of orange as the sun clipped the Chindeni hills and welcomed me to another day in valley.
The meal was hearty. The company was jovial. The setting was the remote. Bilimungwe camp in the South Luangwa Valley in Zambia.
We sat under the eaves of the thatched roof watching the night sky spiral around us. Our glasses charged with Remy Martin our tongues loosened around any topic that rose before the shooting stars fell. And then the heaviness of sleep sent us on our escorted ways to bed. I had barely removed my sandals before I was snatched from my mosquito net surrounded world and cast into a deep sleep.
I woke three hours later. The warm glow of the Remy long gone, chased away by the goblins that come from indulgence, I felt a dull rhythmic cerebral thud and a swollen bladder. The netted ghost tripped me as I staggered to the bathroom, wondering through the sleepy haze what in fact had stirred me from my never-never land. Business complete I fumbled in the darkness pulling at the many folds of the net before it finally parted and I was once again able to collapse gingerly upon my pillow. I lay still, listening to the silence of the night. Then I heard it.
The cabins at Bilimungwe are made of reed and grass, the windows aren’t, merely gaping holes covered with a taught length of fly screening. The South Luangwa is a remote valley: a thriving eco-system along the banks of the now idle Luangwa river. The sun bakes the valley for months, then the rain floods everything forever changing the course of the river and dispelling many big ebony, teak and fig trees on a long crushing cruise to the Zambezi basin. It was in the last few days of the baking sun that I was there, the river still lazy and the game teased by the scent of rain from the east.
It was a deep throaty, grunting rasping almost hoarse call that reverberated through the glade of our camp. The night air remained still. Nothing responded to the challenge. The baboons, normally chattering and chortling from their lofty roosts, were silent. The grazing impala did not even trot a hoof. Odd since the leopard sounded as if it was aside my cabin, feet from my throbbing head. I waited for it to call again. I loved the sound. My blood raced as the image of the leopard in the night danced through my brain. I could see him walking steadily, head high, white tipped tail flicking as he sprayed the bush scuffing his hind legs in his emission and continuing on, stopping to rasp out his name and domain.
Some moments passed, the bush held its breath, I did too fearful that if I inhaled too deeply I might miss the next utterance from the prince of cats. I was rewarded as the sound came in from the north, further away and softer. This time is was not quite as hoarse, not as loud and not as deep. It was another, and she was responding with more urgency than him. I lay and wondered at the outcome: two leopard, a still night and a grass camp under the dawning sky.
Still, I listened. Yards from my bed I could hear the dried mopane leaves rustle under the weight of padded feet. I could hear the grunts of greeting, the rasping roar began, this time a duet, then deep growling as if being emitted through a throat full of water, then a scary tearing almost guttural bark, pads on the leaves and then silence. Once again my mind raced and blurry images sharpened. I imagined him, the bigger of the two with his large block shaped head, mounting her, a smaller cat, crouched low on the ground, tail aside, muzzle wrinkled at the pain of entry, the growl of satisfaction at with-drawl and the hurried blur of clawed paws lashing out at his neck bighting jaws. I could see him spring back in the darkness, as she rolled over, showing her light belly and flashing tipped tail. He would stand yards away gazing at his conquest, annoyance and delight, to roll over in the grass and watch for her next move. She would wait. The driving urge eventually stalking her close to him, she’d be crouched sidling up to him, offering her tail to his face and rushing forward enticing him to another brief joust.
I could hear the calls, indifferent to my sleeping companions and my prying ears they continued into the darkness. I listened tracking their moves away from the camp, across the sudden break in the glade: a dumbo dried earlier in the season, now a well manicured grassland that attracted herds of waterbuck, impala, and baboon, and on into the riparian forest that guarded our camp from the Luangwa river.
The calls continued just until the false dawn, I could hear him heading south and her heading north. She must have started to hunt. The silent impala now blasted the sharp alarm. The sound ricocheting through the heard, then silence. The sound of hooves, a brief stampede meant she had been seen, smelt or heard, then silence. From the far side another call, a sharp blast, once again ricocheting through the heard and echoing through the valley, then silence. From the back of the camp, the baboon could be heard waking. Probably stirred to life by the impala they were shaking branches, shouting long and hard. The big males deep howls seemed to excite the shriller youngsters to greater levels of enthusiasm as the trees now became a cacophony of delirious asylum sounds.
I lifted up on my elbow and watched as the sky burned from a dull gray through shades of orange as the sun clipped the Chindeni hills and welcomed me to another day in valley.
Nov 1st, 2006, 08:21 AM
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Mkhonzo - Thanks for the report. I also stayed at those same 3 camps and duplicated your trip in 2004. I agree 100% with your assessment of the Bushcamp Company - first class operation.
Sounds like you had some outstanding leopard viewing. I also found the night drives extraordinary. Another big plus I found was that in that section of the of the park there will not be any other vehicles around on the night drives.
Sounds like you had some outstanding leopard viewing. I also found the night drives extraordinary. Another big plus I found was that in that section of the of the park there will not be any other vehicles around on the night drives.
Nov 1st, 2006, 08:26 AM
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Agree on the vehicle situation. It is that aspect alone that really sets the BCC guides apart from the rest: They can find game on foot or in a vehicle without jabbering on the radio or needing to team up to work tracks etc.
Also (I adore Bots, but) you do not have the airborne traffic either, although I have heard some complaints from the locals that Wilderness has started disrupting the quiet with wild helicopter trips over the valley.
Also (I adore Bots, but) you do not have the airborne traffic either, although I have heard some complaints from the locals that Wilderness has started disrupting the quiet with wild helicopter trips over the valley.
Nov 1st, 2006, 08:58 AM
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Wonderful sounding trip and wonderful essay. Thanks.
We recently returned from Lower Zambezi and South Luangwa NP (Luangwa River Lodge which we loved), and also had a wonderful time (soon to get back to our trip report now that the slides are back). Was intrigued by your comment on the wild dog thread re. tigerfishing. I fished for, and caught, tigerfish on the Lower Zambezi, a real kick, but was curious where you fished and how you did. The Luangwa River where we were was quite low except for some pools. In fact we just forded the river in the LR each day.
Jim
We recently returned from Lower Zambezi and South Luangwa NP (Luangwa River Lodge which we loved), and also had a wonderful time (soon to get back to our trip report now that the slides are back). Was intrigued by your comment on the wild dog thread re. tigerfishing. I fished for, and caught, tigerfish on the Lower Zambezi, a real kick, but was curious where you fished and how you did. The Luangwa River where we were was quite low except for some pools. In fact we just forded the river in the LR each day.
Jim
Nov 1st, 2006, 09:07 AM
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Fished the upper Zambezi. ntwala lodge is located at the tip of the Caprivi, literally at the confluence of the Chobe and Zambezi rivers.
I fished a stretch of water, which being in Namibia is void of motorised craft, saw many locals fishing from their mekoro, but not another motor for miles and miles...
I did NOT catch anything worth shouting about, although had heard reports from earlier that week of awesome 15/16 pounder tigers over gunwale. I can only dream.....!
However had some super sightings of malachite kingfisher, fish eagle, open billed stalk, clawless otter, and a rich variety of others.
I fished a stretch of water, which being in Namibia is void of motorised craft, saw many locals fishing from their mekoro, but not another motor for miles and miles...
I did NOT catch anything worth shouting about, although had heard reports from earlier that week of awesome 15/16 pounder tigers over gunwale. I can only dream.....!
However had some super sightings of malachite kingfisher, fish eagle, open billed stalk, clawless otter, and a rich variety of others.
Nov 1st, 2006, 05:50 PM
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mkhonzo,
I like the idea of no radios in the trucks. So, do they operate with a guide/tracker system? or guide only?
Another question, i dont know about the South Luangwa as i hv never visited...but, do the BCC camps operate away from the other vehicle routes? or do you still bump into jeeps from other trucks fairly often?
If you have been to Kaingo, how in your opinion would you compare your experiences between Kaingo and BCC?
Thanks
hari
I like the idea of no radios in the trucks. So, do they operate with a guide/tracker system? or guide only?
Another question, i dont know about the South Luangwa as i hv never visited...but, do the BCC camps operate away from the other vehicle routes? or do you still bump into jeeps from other trucks fairly often?
If you have been to Kaingo, how in your opinion would you compare your experiences between Kaingo and BCC?
Thanks
hari
Nov 1st, 2006, 10:41 PM
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Hi Mkhonzo
You were lucky not to be taken out by the leopards...but I suppose Remy Martin flavoured human doesn't go down too well with them. Probably the fumes that you were breathing scared them away! Thanks for the essay.
You were lucky not to be taken out by the leopards...but I suppose Remy Martin flavoured human doesn't go down too well with them. Probably the fumes that you were breathing scared them away! Thanks for the essay.
Nov 2nd, 2006, 02:57 AM
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Zenz.. I for a moment suspected that my snoring could have been percieved as another mate in the territory: Now that you mention it, pretty pleased that I was not mistaken and concur that the remy breath was probably the magic wand.
Hari. There are no other camps close to the BCC locations, so there really are not any other vehicles around. Since each camp is a significant drive from the next you pass vehciles irregularly.
Drives are escorted by a guide and a spotter/tracker. Walks the same however you are joined by an armed ZAWA scout.
The vehicles do have radios, however they appear to be seldom used.
I have never stayed at Kaingo, so cannot comment, however in the past have seen numerous vehicles in the area of Puku & Chichele as well as around the bridge and enterance to the park.
I will also add, that other vehicles are NOT to be seen as a negative as it appears that the guides work well with each other to limit traffic around sightings in the park. But it just really enhances the BCC experience, where you are a small group of up to 6 staying at a camp. By not encountering others really just enhances the wild and close to nature experience offered by these camps.
Hari. There are no other camps close to the BCC locations, so there really are not any other vehicles around. Since each camp is a significant drive from the next you pass vehciles irregularly.
Drives are escorted by a guide and a spotter/tracker. Walks the same however you are joined by an armed ZAWA scout.
The vehicles do have radios, however they appear to be seldom used.
I have never stayed at Kaingo, so cannot comment, however in the past have seen numerous vehicles in the area of Puku & Chichele as well as around the bridge and enterance to the park.
I will also add, that other vehicles are NOT to be seen as a negative as it appears that the guides work well with each other to limit traffic around sightings in the park. But it just really enhances the BCC experience, where you are a small group of up to 6 staying at a camp. By not encountering others really just enhances the wild and close to nature experience offered by these camps.
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