By taxi we arrived in Ndola, Zambia after a 52hr train experience. Our arrival was even more of an experience than the train was. We arrived in the dark, traveled in the dark and got our first impressions of Ndola in the dark. Thank goodness, they were the wrong impression, for we received the impression that it was a dreary place, with pollution to the point of making the air thick with fumes mixed with dust. The main entrance was made up of refineries and mining operations amidst what appeared to be a barren landscape. Not a good first impression.
Thankfully in the morning we were treated to the view of the gardens of our BandB, Katuba BandB.
They were beautiful. Were we biased because we finally felt clean and fresh? Only time would tell.
Ndola,
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So imagine our surprise when we left the guesthouse and headed into town to find that the dust primed pollution of the night before was almost non-existent in the daylight. I would suspect that it is only allowed to flow freely at night. The wind that was blowing might have also had something to do with it. It is also a major transportation hub, including the presence of a 2nd even slower train that connects Livingstone to Kitwe.
Ndola is known for it's treelined streets
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The streets themselves were in a state of flux, some being repaired others already done. It was wonderful to walk down the dusty hot road in the shade of these beautiful trees, wondering as we went about the magnificent homes on the other side of the fences behind the trees. In it's heyday this truly was a place of wealth.
Our first stop: to buy tickets for the bus to Solwezi for the next day
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as well as a sim card for our cells. Success in both activities but was unable to access the data that I bought. Guess there was something to the statement "if you have any problems, come back and see me". The buses that we saw looked comfortable and definitely not ac'd but with windows that would open.
What I would later discover was that there was no assigned seating and if you didn't understand the system, you lost out! The ticket booth for the buses was a small zinc encased kiosk in the center of a corner lot, viewing for space and safety amongst traffic, both foot and vehicular.
From here we went on to find the National Copperbelt Museum.
For a small local museum, this one was very well presented. They had only a small amount of artifacts and items but they made up for this lack in their poster board informational signs.
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THEN BY BUS
The next day found us, bag and baggage, down at the bus stop waiting the arrival of our 11:30 bus, with anticipated arrival in Solwezi at around 5pm.
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Finally, on the bus, seated, and on our way only 3 hours late. I sat next to a wonderful young man who was full of questions about the USA/Canada and who in turn, gave me a running dialogue about the country that we going through. He worked, and proud of the fact, in one of the new mines a short distance out of Ndola so I soon lost my seat-mate. But the good part, Danny was able to then sit beside me. Stopping and starting, people on and people off, at no time did we seem to make up any of the time initially lost. The people watching was fantastic however and watching the vendors swarm the bus with their food stuffs was mind boggling. As we had brought shawarmas with us to eat, we did not need to buy anything but water - frozen, ice cold water - yes! Danny initially had a great seat in the very back where he could get some fantastic photos sight unseen
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while I, on the other hand, sitting on an inside seat was not able to get much of anything except blur.
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Throughout our ride we had African soap operas with some parts said in English and others in one of the many dialects. My favorite was called "?? Inside the Palace" and we missed the last segment getting off. (Gary, do you remember the actual name?) Now we will never know what happened with the new ruler.
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This is as good a time as ever to talk a little bout one of the more unsavory aspects of public transportation here in Africa. This would be the difficulty in finding and buying deodorant and the lack of excess water for bathing. Their clothing are fastidiously clean and well pressed but their emanating odors are overwhelming. No matter the station in life, it is the same from the lowliest street person to the highly professional ... no difference is smelled. At this time now more than ever, I can understand the habit of old of ladies and their beautifully decorated and perfumed white handkerchiefs: Oh how I wished for one on this trip.
We arrived in Solwezi around 8, and yes, in the dark. Travis and his fellow PCV friends were there to meet us. The taxistas were very aggressive here, grabbing for you while you were still on the bus. And they wanted exorbitant fees. When Travis spoke to them in their own language and told them just how much we should pay, they looked somewhat perplexed and maybe a little disappointed. {erosional space is an unknown here I believe as while waiting for our luggage, we were shoulder to shoulder, front to back and back to front and we weren't evens tanking near the basement of the bus. Definitely a different feel. Couldn't see much of the town as we headed out to the guesthouse but the plans were for a walking tour in the morning.
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