What a roller-coaster month it has been…
The solstice is all about the furthest point. The extreme; the days are stretched to the longest they will be all year. The earth is full tilt toward the sun. I have definitely felt stretched and “full tilt” in terms of pace and chaos in recent weeks. One challenge has followed another in endless waves from all directions since arriving in this stunning country of Zambia.
For the six months of the rainy season, the camp sat stuffed with stacked-up furniture and boxes of inadequately wrapped bedding, while lush, tangled vegetation ran wild between the chalets. The dining deck stood in two feet of water while hippos trampled their way over the concrete bases and underground soakaways. Baboons went to town on the thatched roofing, searching for grubs and lizards embedded in the grass work. Bats took up residence in the eaves of the storage rooms, covering every surface in toxic excrement. It was not the ideal scene to be faced with after a long and arduous journey, arriving at sunset with no power or running water.
You could say I was under-prepared; you could also say I was crazy to take it on. But I don’t think anything can really prepare you for the North Luangwa National Park. Its remote conditions, especially after such a heavy, but much-needed, rainy season.
So, I sit here to write in my makeshift office (lovingly referred to as “the bat cave”) with a real sense of achievement and an equally real sense of trepidation. We managed to get the camp open. Eeven secured 5-star reviews from our first flurry of guests, but there is so much more to come.
It will get easier; I know this. It always does.
The season stretches ahead of us. It will get colder before it gets hotter, and the challenges will roll in and be dealt with. Just as guests will come and go. We will weather the storms and learn new lessons every day. It’s the main reason I love this job so much.
As the sun sets each evening and the creatures of the night make themselves heard. I grab a beer and marvel at what Mother Nature has gifted me. Yes, it’s tough, and yes, it’s frustrating living without first-world conveniences. But if this is full tilt, then I’m confident whatever lies ahead will be manageable.
As the valley dries out and the winter chill sets in, the wildlife is already changing its behaviour.
As the 2026 season progresses, I will share what wild Luangwa camp life looks like.
Blessings from the bush!
Joanne.
Days start before dawn
The sun rises in front of camp, lighting up the Luangwa river flowing in a huge double curve past the front of our dining deck, where a magnificent sausage tree stands guard over the riverbank.
The “sausages” (fruits) can reach a staggering 10kgs each…. so we cut the over-hangers down to save injury.
Last season Matson, on the left, was a night watchman. This season he has been promoted to room attendant. Doris, (borrowed from another of our camps in Luambe), has been teaching him the ropes and he couldn’t be happier. He loves his new role and is taking it very seriously – even wore his camp radio on a trip to Lundazi this week because I told him always to have it with him!
It’s week 25, so here’s card 25 from our 52-card Oracle deck – “Elemental Journey”…
The way a community rallies for each other out here is impressive. The men work the fields for days on end in the hot African sun, cutting grass for us to rebuild the camp, whilst their female family members keep them well fed and watered with a small fire in situ.
I arrive to collect the next truckload of bundles. I am instantly offered a cup of water, whilst they pick out the very best sweet potatoes freshly boiled and still warm, and fill a bag full of ground nuts for me, whilst we wait for the grass to be loaded and counted.
The ladies laugh at my attempts to speak Nyanja and push past each other to get a better look at me and my straight “muzungu” hair.
It’s such a privilege to witness these families working as one; laughing together, eating together, sharing what little they have with a stranger… buried deep in some unseen section of the grasslands, in the heart of the African wilderness.
I wonder how many white-skinned people the villagers see each season. Very few I expect. For some of the children here I may be their first and possibly only muzungu they see in real life. I’m acutely aware then of what a responsibility I have. To get the respect right, to appreciate the culture, and to participate wherever and whenever I am lucky enough to be invited to.
If you’re thinking about a truly wild safari, or just curious to see where I am, check out our website for Luangwa Valley Safaris from Everwild
My open-air bathroom is under the trees at the edge of the woodland behind camp. I have plenty of frogs to keep me company and a bucket shower, which is filled with warm water each evening, pumped from the borehole.
It’s the perfect spot; shady, cool and away from guests and staff. So nice in fact that a troop of baboons use it to roost at night, so I typically wake up when the baboons wake up and start peeing above me – I close my eyes and pretend it’s summer rain on canvas during camping trips with friends!
So until next time, solstice blessings from a very remote woodland, far, far away.
Joanne
x
