I Want To Bee Free

It is with a heavy heart that I have to announce that operation “Lets not get stung again because it hurts like a bastard” comes to an end and a very undramatic end at that. Worse still, it’s come to a honey-free end! In fact, operation “Lets not get stung again because it hurts like a bastard” could easily have been renamed to “Lets sit on my arse and wait for the bees to leave”, an equally snappy title as the original. It would seem that my attic was only the bees winter get-away and now that the weather is heating up (how nice it is to be back in shorts again) they have decided that the attic is getting a little warm during the day and decided to relocate to a more temperate environment.

Watching them swarm Sunday morning, it didn’t really dawn on me that they were actually in the process of shifting. It was only when we went into the attic to (finally) retrieve the honey that we realised they had scarpered. I mean, honestly, they took every last drop of honey with them, how rude! So my bee problem has come to an end, not necessarily the end I was hoping for but at least I only got stung the once and we were able to live in relative harmony. Now I can go back to only being disturbed by the army of ants that now seem to be everywhere.

Your bee-free author in the middle nowhere

A Snake-tastic Weekend

While I am only hours away from another weekend, the last one is still very fresh in my mind and the thing that featured the most, other than perhaps laughter was my old leathery, scaly, slithering, scream-inducing friends, the snake population of Chikuni.

So I am sitting on my front step, enjoying a sneaky coffee and ginger-nut on a hot Saturday afternoon when I should be in Chikuni. The concrete underneath my (cute) butt is hot, the birds are flying through the air and I am pondering the meaning of… ”What the Hell was THAT?” Rustling comes from the corner of the flowerbed just below where the house meets the front step. I knew immediately what the hell that was. That was the sound of a snake slithering over the dry leaves that have built up in the corner. Next came the difficult question, do I finish this fine coffee or do I run away? Of course I finished the coffee; I mean come on, it’s coffee! I will admit though, I finished it quicker than normal with regular glances over my left shoulder. After escaping into the ‘safety’* of the house I got myself ready to return to Chikuni and then before shouldering my pack I picked up an old broom handle and went for a proper look. I could just make out the not-so-little bugger in amongst the leaves. It was light brown/tan in colour making it hard to distinguish. As the end of the handle got closer to it, it hissed louder and louder. In a moment of inspiration I suddenly came to my senses and thought, “what the hell am I doing? If I provoke it then it’ll probably bite me; if I leave it alone then I don’t get bitten and it doesn’t have to die.” So I sensibly decided (yes, me, imagine!) to leave it alone and hope that it didn’t decide to take up residence there. I hopped on the bike and we both went our separate ways, (hopefully) never to meet again. I will tell you though that coming home in the dark that night I made far more noise than normal in the yard and didn’t hang around before slamming the door behind me. *Fun fact though, snakes can get through the gap between the floor and the door, hurray!

Next was Sunday morning, on my way out to meet a friend for a picnic. I rolled the big gate that keeps the cows etc out of our garden shut behind me and made it approximately two steps forward when I heard and then saw a little wiry green snake jump into another pile of leaves. This one was only a baby compared to the day before. I didn’t have anything to poke it with and I was already on Zam-time (i.e. half an hour late, yes even here I am useless at time keeping) so decided to just keep going. I met a girl walking in to see the guy I live with so I did at least warn her and the contorted look on her face was well worth it.

Lastly, later in the day, this friend and I were walking along through the bush having a great old chat when lo and behold, we literally stumbled across a snake sunning itself on a patch of grass. I’ve always been led to believe that snakes can feel the vibrations of footsteps long before you get near them but if that’s true this one must have been a real dunce because it was as surprised as we were at the encounter. My friend screamed and ran for the hills (literally, because that’s where we were walking to) while the snake did a very acrobatic little jig and plunged head first into it’s hole (the internet has failed me in finding the name for a snakes home and even I don’t believe snakery is a word). All this happened as I stood there like a sack of spuds looking at the spot where the snakes tail had disappeared only moments before and thinking “cool, three snakes in two days”. Meanwhile my friend was fifty metres down the path in obvious shock and muttering “ewww ewww ewww, I HATE snakes!” I quickly realised that I had to go and calm her down but no amount of comforting words and accounts of personal heroics involving many a maiden would console her. She spent the rest of the walk keeping two very weary eyes on the ground and even the very mention of a s-n-a-k-e resulted in a shiver and a cold glance. Thankfully we didn’t meet any more though and the picnic turned out to be a very lovely idea.

Your snake-charmer in the middle of nowhere

The Lusaka Express

I welcomed the alarm after a wretched night of fitful sleep entwined with tear-jerking half memories, thoughts of a future love and “what ifs”, all choreographed to 65daysofstatic. Ninety minutes later, beautiful tall gnarled trees stand proudly in black silhouette against the cool dawn light as a new day is birthed from the horizon; this sight alone more than makes up for the early hour. Minutes later my favourite vista in all of Zambia appears as we crest a hill and the valley below, which must stretch out for over a hundred kilometres, is bathed in the soft pink light of dawn. Mountains on the distant horizon produce a topsy-turvy sky and the sun beyond them is only a few minutes away. Not long after, down in the same valley we come to a temporary statutory stop before crossing (yet again) the seldom used railway line that links Lusaka and Livingstone. The morning fog here in the bowls of the valley is light and patchy. It makes for a one more beautiful sight as the railway line heading northeast towards Lusaka disappears into the fog while at the same time people are walking towards us along the line who are in varying degrees of emergence from the fog. All very picturesque! This is the second “memory photo” at this crossing. The first was on the return leg of my trip to Lusaka with Gian when a group of boys were sitting on the railing just before the crossing. Annoyingly, both times I have been unable to photograph the moments and so the images only live on in my (often forgetful) mind.

It’s the colour and movement that catches my eye and draws my attention away from the conversation. It’s her shape that makes my head turn. Hey, whoa, hang on a second, I’ve missed this; well dressed talent (Irish slang for cute girl)! And it’s not just singular either but plural; sweet eye candy how I’ve missed thee… Now for clarification and in order to not get lynched by my local (female) audience, I should point out that there’s no shortage of good looking girls in Chikuni but most of it is out of bounds for one reason or another and is invariably wrapped up in a chitenge. A chitenge is a piece of patterned material, measuring roughly 1x2 meters, worn as a sarong and while functional (and more importantly tradition) it’s far from flattering. Many a cute derriere or lovely pair of pins are hidden away for private viewings only. This incidentally isn’t necessarily a bad thing in my humble opinion. It’s just that having it on display is a nice contrast to what I’ve been used to in my village life.


This productive little day trip to Lusaka was wonderful, a delightful day to contrast against my quiet life in the village. Amongst other things, I drank coffee, I wrote, I people watched and I browsed through shops. I felt the buzz of crowds of people going about their own lives and remembered what it’s like to live in a city. I leave you with this funny little anecdote though which happened to me as I found myself walking up and down the aisles of a supermarket. (In your best David accent) Look. CHOICE!! And look at all this fresh fruit and vegetables. And look at the eh…, oh dear Lord, look at the price! Quick, get me back to Chikuni…

Your day-tripper in the middle nowhere