Take a walk on the Wildside - North Luangwa

Take A Walk ON THE WILD SIDE

[WRITER: Sarah Kingdom ] [ PHOTOS: Remote Africa Safaris ] NORTH LUANGWA

Africa’s Great Rift Valley extends southwards into north-eastern Zambia. It is here that the Luangwa River, a tributary of the Zambezi, has carved out a unique and beautiful landscape. Home to Zambia’s only black rhinos, its elephant stronghold and with one of the highest lion densities in the region. We had come to explore this amazing place on foot. Remote and wild, only accessible by flight, or with good bush driving skills. Walking in North Luangwa is the way to explore this place. With few roads and even fewer people, you are unlikely to see anyone else for the duration of your safari.

First stop was Chikolongo campsite on the outskirts of the park, high on the dramatic Muchinga escarpment, just three kilometres from Mano Gate, the north western gate of the park. 24% of North Luangwa NP lies within this escarpment which means a diverse range of habitats within the park. The campsite is nestled in miombo woodland on the banks of the Mwaleshi River, close to the river’s source. The rocky stream is an ideal place for a quick swim, and the sound of the water gurgling over the rapids is the perfect sound to lull you to sleep at night. We had the campsite to ourselves. Sitting beside our campfire that night, we looked up and watched the stars in the clear sky above… that is until I lost my balance on my rickety three-legged camping stool, toppled over backwards, and found myself lying on my back like a turtle!

Morning came and we woke to the dawn chorus of what sounded like hundreds of birds. Emerging from our tent we sat silently, nursing tea and coffee by the fire. Not yet awake enough to start breakfast preparations, we watched pied wagtails hop from rock to rock in the river, while kingfishers darted along the water’s edge and double-collared sunbirds flitted through the bushes. Overhead a troupe of monkeys chattered as they leapt from tree to tree. We explored a small, scenic trail beside the river, heading upstream for about 1km, pleasantly surprised, considering we weren’t actually inside the park, to see a bushbuck, hyena scat and several elephant footprints in the sand. Rounding a bend in the river we found a pair of elephants tearing down branches to feed… given that we were alone and on foot, we thought it wise to beat a relatively hasty retreat and head back to camp. Packing away our tent, we headed down the escarpment and into the park itself. A couple of hours later we arrived much further down the Mwaleshi River, where it had widened considerably, turning from fast and rocky to broad and sandy. We could see our destination on the opposite bank. A little reluctant to drive across, having had some 4x4 issues, we parked the car and after a little arm waving and exaggerated miming to the team on the other bank, a couple of camp staff were dispatched across on foot to assist with our luggage and we all wadded across the shallow water together, arriving at Mwaleshi Camp in time for lunch.

Walking out from camp that afternoon, we were given some final instructions… “stay behind the guide, single file, no loud noises, pay attention, do NOT wander off.” We walked through long grass, across rivers, ducked under branches and stopped occasionally to untangle ourselves from ‘wait a bit’ thorn bushes. The ‘bush’ is very different when experienced on foot, you become aware of every rustle and crackle in the undergrowth, the snap of every twig underfoot.

Our first afternoon walk lasted three hours. A magnificent martial eagle soared overhead, lilac-breasted rollers displayed vibrant colours as they swooped through the air. Rattling cisticolas shouted warning calls and grey louries, with their distinctive ‘go away’ calls were everywhere. We watched the insect catching antics of bee-eaters, the ungainly flight patterns of hornbills and had an upclose look at the various nest styles of some of the 12 different weaver species found in North Luangwa. The air was heavy with the heady aroma of Natal mahoganies.

Cresting a rise as we approached the river, we found three lions lying in the sand, about 30 metres ahead. We sat on the ground and watched them sleep. A persistent honeyguide called and called, trying to get our attention, and almost revealing our location to the lions, who from time to time raised their heads to see what the commotion was about. As we sat Brent, our guide, explained how honeyguides are brood parasites, laying their eggs in the nests of another bird species, very often bee-eaters. They have been known to physically eject the host’s chicks from the nest or to puncture the host’s eggs with the needle-sharp hooks on their beaks, whilst any of the hosts young that do hatch are often stabbed to death by the vicious imposter chicks, in order to eliminate competition for the host parent’s care. Incredibly honeyguides have also developed the ability to produce eggs and young that mimic the egg type and gape of their hosts so that the interlopers can pass undetected in their foster homes. It also seems that the honeyguides ability to produce eggs resembling those of their varied host species is not just to prevent choosy hosts from ejecting mismatched eggs, but also to fool other honeyguides, who would otherwise destroy the eggs because of fierce competition for suitable host nests.

Leaving the lions, and the honeyguides, we headed back to camp. Sunset turned the river orange and scarlet as we walked along the bank. The smell of the native ‘potato bush’ hung in the air, as did the trademark “popcorn smell” of a genet cat’s scent markings. Back in camp that night we ate dinner by lantern light, overlooking the darkened river. Hyena’s calls filled the night sky, lions roared on all sides and a young elephant across the water trumpeted in alarm. A typical day’s walking safari in North Luangwa starts at about 5 am. After coffee and breakfast around the campfire on the riverbank, we set off for what would be a five-hour walk. Taking off our shoes we crossed the river. Almost immediately we saw the spoor of the previous day’s lions, but they proved elusive, always seeming a few steps ahead of us. The sun rose and with it, the tsetse flies became a little more bloodthirsty. We skirted the edge of the mopane scrubland and watched the tantalising lion footprints heading deeper into the forest. We carried on, walking through sand, over river pebbles, past woodland and grassland. The occasional nocturnal creature rustled in the undergrowth as they made their way home, while birds and other daytime creatures started to wake up.

We were pursued, in vain, by a succession of honeyguides, each one seeming keener than the one before to lead us to the ‘prize’. A juvenile martial eagle, perched in a tree. Nowhere near as magnificent as the adult from the previous day, but still destined to become a fabulous specimen. A couple of Cookson’s wildebeest (one of the valley’s endemic subspecies) crossed our path and

then a lone bull elephant, walking along the top of the river bank. He’d found a tree laden with fruit and paused for a leisurely meal. Continuing our walk, ilala palms marked the ancient trails taken by elephants, who had eaten the ginger chocolate tasting palm fruit and ‘deposited’ the seeds as they walked. As the day grew warmer we moved into a grove of bushes on the edge of an almost dry pan. There was a trickle of water remaining, just damp enough to attract elephants, baboons and warthogs, but not quite deep enough to conceal a small crocodile.

Lunch and a ‘swim’ in the shin-deep water of the Mwaleshi River right below our room, followed by a siesta, had us refreshed and ready to head out again on foot in the afternoon. Brent gave us a lesson in animal psychology. Explaining to us that if we ‘walked with purpose’ in a straight line, focussed on a destination, we appeared to other animals as a potential threat, like a predator. However when we stopped to look at plants or birds or footprints, giving the appearance of milling about aimlessly, then our behaviour was more like that of another browser and therefore less of a threat, allowing us to get a lot closer to our quarry. We also learnt that among the larger browsers and grazers there are two distinct types of breeding/territorial behaviour. There are those like the wildebeest, where a lone male will guard what he feels to be prime real estate, and which he hopes will attract a bevy of eligible females into his domain. Then there are those like the zebra, where a male will maintain a harem of females and exert his energy rounding up his females and fending off any male who dare make a move on his ‘ladies’.

The rest of our afternoon was filled with animal tracks… the swish marks of a crocodile’s tail, the scrape marks of a hippo’s chin bristles in the sand, elephant footprints large and small, lion, leopard and hyena tracks, the indentations of Crawshay’s zebra footprints in the damp river sand, and signs of a trifecta of elusive nocturnal creatures… honey badger, porcupine and aardvark.

A three-hour walk (or one hour’s drive) downstream from Mwaleshi, in a beautiful part of this largely unexplored park, is the newly opened Takwela Camp. In the Game Management Area opposite the National Park, at the confluence of the Mwaleshi and Luangwa rivers, the camp offers both walking safaris and game drives. Nestled among groves of African ebony, mahogany, winter thorns and sausage trees, with the occasional ilala palm, the camp is perched three metres above the river. Our room was the perfect vantage point to watch an African fish eagle hunting. He plummeted down to grasp a fish in his talons, resting briefly on the bank before flying off to feast in private. White-fronted and little beeeaters continued swooping out over the water once he’d gone.

A necklace of fifty or more hippos stretched across the river here, resting their chins on a sandbank in the shallow water, grunting and squabbling, sounding like a flotilla of motor boats revving their engines. These were fascinating creatures and we would spend many hours watching their territorial quarrels and wide-mouthed displays as they jockeyed for prime positions in the water.

Early morning we crossed the river in canoes, setting off on foot into the park. Handsome kudu and waterbuck gazed passively at us. We followed the tracks of leopard, hyena, genet, aardvark and paused to examine a somewhat pungent civet toilet (civetry). We saw traces of the ‘owners’ varied omnivorous diet. Digested and excreted rodents, lizards and frogs as well as insects, fruit and berries. A civet is one of the few carnivores capable of eating toxic invertebrates like termites and millipedes, and we saw the remains of the distinctive rings of ‘shell’ left from a digested millipede called a chongololo, (which can grow up to 28cm in length). Finding ourselves with elephants on all sides, never close enough to pose a real danger, but close enough to get our adrenalin going, we made a tactical retreat.

Final sundowners in the park were spent on the riverbank, overlooking the same large congregation of hippos, who continued to agitate and disagree over territory. The following day, as we crossed the river in the vehicle to head back to civilisation, we found a pair of shy lions resting on the cool sand in the shade of a mahogany tree. Driving out of the park, we rounded the corner and came face to face with a huge herd of buffalo, numbering many hundreds, the perfect farewell to our safari.

Did you know?

Grey Crowned Cranes - are seen in large numbers on the Busanga Plains in Kafue National Park and is one of Zambia’s most beautiful birds. [ PHOTO: Barbara Ingram ]