Cowbells Down the Zambezi by David Lemon

Author:David Lemon
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781781482155
Publisher: Grosvenor House Publishing
Published: 2013-09-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

(Trouble in the Gorges)

Livingstone was roughly halfway between source and sea on my Zambezi walk. With over twelve hundred kilometres behind me, I was finally out of those vast, depressing plains, so felt extremely proud of myself on reaching the place.

Karien Kermer turned out to be a blonde Dutch lady with a bustling manner and an infectious smile. Shaking my hand, she inadvertently shattered my euphoria by telling me that Andy was away, but would send his Lusaka team down the following week to resupply me.

This was desperate news. I had been so looking forward to seeing Nicholas and Zara that I had pushed myself for days and was far too early for the planned resupply. Trying to hide my disappointment, I followed Karien into her house on the river. The garden led down to the water and I could feel tension ease from my shoulders as I looked out across ‘my’ Zambezi.

“Of course, you will stay here until your Cowbell people arrive,” Karien told me sternly. “You look in need of fattening up.”

I didn’t want to foist myself on anyone for a whole week, but she brushed my objections aside.

“Don’t be silly,” She produced tea and cake, swimming in strawberry sauce. “My husband is in Johannesburg and this is the perfect place for you to rest.”

I decided that I would enjoy a couple of days in that enchanted spot before moving on and camping closer to town. I knew there was a line of lodges along that stretch but felt sure I could find somewhere suitable. In the meantime, there was strawberry cake to enjoy.

Later that day, I weighed myself and the result was a shock. I had started the trip weighing ninety-three kilograms. A lot of it had been centred around my middle, but my weight was now down to seventy-one kgs. I had lost almost three and a half stone during my wanderings. No wonder I felt bad at times.

My face - never pretty - was lined and gaunt, bones standing out like buttresses above my cheeks. My collar bones jutted obscenely and my ribs made a washboard pattern on either side of my chest. As for the lower half of me - I had known my hips were prominent, but to see them was horrifying. My bottom had disappeared and while I had heard of bedsores, I wondered if I could start a new fashion with bed bruises, sustained where bones made contact with hard ground for night after night.

Karien smiled grimly when she heard how much weight I had lost.

“I will fatten you up,” She said firmly. “You can relax here and read in the sunshine, but you will eat at least three meals a day, with plenty of snacks in between.”

She was as good as her word, the lovely Mrs Kermer and when I moved on, I had regained nearly five of the lost kilograms - which isn’t bad for an eight day stay.

My hostess asked if I needed anything from South Africa and I hesitated.

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