The Sweetest Town in Zambia

This afternoon - Sunday 15th July - around 3 pm I rolled gently into Mazabuka. It's 80 km from Kafue and I felt quite fresh, so I was pleased with myself. Clearly all that carbo loading chez Andrew Malunga and family did me good. The locals call it "the sweetest town in Zambia" as it's the sugar cane growing centre for Zambia. I was a bit nervous before setting out because The Munali Pass was marked as being on my route. It turned put to be no worse than cycling over The Ainleys and, on either side of the "pass", today's leg has been nearly all flat. I talked to a bunch of blokes in a cafe this afternoon and they assured me that the road to Livingstone (Vic Falls) is mostly flat. One said he'd like to join me - he'd had a few, I think - and another said he'd like my bike when I've finished with it.

Before leaving Kafue I inspected the statue to Keith Brown, a friend and former teaching colleague, who taught in a school in Kafue for a year or two before moving on to do something similar in Zimbabwe. The inscription simply says "Top sums teacher and big mate of Kenneth Kaunda". Keith was invited to coffee with the first president of Zambia during his stay. On the head of the statue is a battered straw hat that seems to have got singed in a fire. (Sorry, that's a joke of limited currency).

Actually I also made  up the bit about the statue. I've had an idea for a book for you, Keith:  "From Kafue to Keighley, a life devoted to numeracy". You'll be retired soon and have loads of time.

So, all in all, a very pleasant day. I was pleased to see the reappearance of a few Baobab trees just after the pass. They are leafless at the moment . Apart from being amazingly whopping trees with incredibly stout trunks, they also give me a double chuckle. Firstly, because they bear a remarkable resemblance to one of the funniest animated characters of all time, Eccles off the Telegoons. It's the fat shapeless body and the diminutive straggly branches which look just like his hair and vice versa.

Secondly, because of something I saw written on a Baobab tree, way back in Tanzania when I first came across them. I won't quote the message verbatim but it suggested that a certain local gentleman, Mister somebody, enjoyed an unconventional relationship with goats. And it was about 25 feet up the trunk. It was probably a gross schoolboy calumny by someone who got whacked by his geography teacher or something. Anyway it appealed to my schoolboy sense of humour. Baobab trees generally suffer from the graffiti artist's craft; they are so huge and smooth they make excellent bill-boards.. Often they are used to advertise bars, restaurants and guest houses. Or sometimes couples declare their love for one another. Why is it always geography teachers? It's so unfair.

I'm dead lucky today as I'm in the hotel reception tapping away on the rather nice hotel computer. I complained about the lack of hot water, as was promised, and the fact that the bathroom window flaps in the breeze, is burglar size and won't lock. I think it's a bit of compo.

I hope you are having good weather in England;  it's a lovely sunny day here. In fact it's the 45th lovely sunny day of my 45 day trip so far. Unbelievable.

Today's landscape was  savannah: broad, open grassland with a few scrubby trees. For the first time, miles of fence ran alongside the road. I asked the men in the bar about these and they said they were ranches belonging to white families, one called Cook and one called Coventry. They rear brahmin bulls, although I didn't see any apart from on advertising boards.

Being a snob and wanting to hang on to my teeth I don't generally touch Coca Cola or its substitutes. Today though, unable to find anything else - you can't always get bottled water out in the sticks - I've been drinking Crazy Cola from the Tangy Drinks Co.. I've invented several other alliterating names for it. When you unscrew the top, even though it's been bouncing along in my paniers for an hour, there's just a weak sigh. I've saved the empty bottle for when I'm in non en-suite accommodation. It says on the label "Fizzingly, bubblingly.......". The label had a bit missing and I'm intrigued what else it could be.

Just going back to Lusaka briefly, last Friday morning began with a memorable trip to church. Andrew, who was my host in Lusaka, and who is about 10 years younger than me, goes to church every morning at 5.30 am "to freshen up spiritually for the day ahead", as he puts it. Andrew goes to a Baptist church. As Christians, they believe in whole-body baptism and only when the person is old enough to understand. This sounds sensible to me. Not the dunking but the waiting till the person has some grasp of what is happening to them. I'm with the often but, unfairly I think, maligned Richard Dawkins on this. Bringing up "Catholic" children, "Muslim" children or "Hindu" children etc is wrong, he claims. Let children see what is on offer and then let them chose, is his suggestion. So, at 5.15 am, in the dark, Andrew and I began zigzagging our way through the dusty, pot-holed streets to his local church. On arrival - we were first there - I was introduced to Pastor Peter who was sitting quietly in the vestry. He was a very welcoming man with a big laugh. There were 20  or so of us, I guess, when the service began. It was taken by a visiting Pastor, Pastor Aaron, originally from northern Zambia, I think. He was a big guy with a powerful voice and would not have looked out of place in a pack of international rugby forwards. We began with a full-on version of Amazing Grace. The windows of the church were open to the air so it probably woke anyone in the neighbouring houses still asleep. Then there were prayers. The next phase of the service was interesting. Lead by Pastor Aaron everybody began their own individual conversation with God, some shouting or wailing loudly, some talking softly. Not being a Christian I was unable to join in. It reminded me of what I understand happens in Quaker services. It lasted a good 10 minutes. Then the pastor read from Luke and interspersed it with a homily, during which I was very shocked, embarrassed and moved to hear myself mentioned. "To God everything is possible and he can make things possible for you too. He can give you the strength to cycle great distances, he can....". This sermon lasted some minutes. I felt humbled by this personal touch as I had only been introduced to Pastor Aaron 30 minutes previously. The service lasted about an hour and at the end Andrew asked God to bless my journey and he introduced me to the congregation. I was a bit choked at this point, mainly at being made so welcome and at being made to feel part of the service. It still wasn't 6.30 in the morning. I said a few words about my trip and thanked them, and especially Andrew, for their warm fellowship. Each one shook my hand as they left to go about their day. After a month I was getting used to the spontaneity of life in Africa but this experience took me aback.

When I left the Malunga household a few hours later, I  got a hug from each member of the family. Andrew picked me up bodily and lifted me off the ground, although he is a bit smaller than me. I hope you didn't mind me not reciprocating, Andrew, but we long-distance cyclists have to look after our backs.

I could ramble on but I think the hotel staff would like to use the computer. Thanks for your comments and sorry if I don't get back to you . A lot of them seem to be "no reply" anyway.