Mosi-Oa-Tunya

The Vic Falls are one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. Everything in Livingstone seems to be named after the Falls or Mosi-Oa-Tunya, which means the smoke that thunders.

Xanthe and I arrived on Easter Sunday at the tiniest airport in the world and were told that our shuttle driver, who was supposed to take us to Fawlty Towers backpackers, was tired of waiting for us - so he left! However, the driver for another backpackers called Jolly Boys smiled and said "Chris is busy, so I'll take you it's on the way."

That is a prime example of the friendliness we have encountered here in Zambia. Fawlty Towers is a brilliant place to stay and not just because the name makes me laugh and think about John Cleese. Walking distance from almost everything in the buzzing metropolis of Livingstone, which is a town that makes even sleepy Grahamstown look like a giant city, but I for one wouldn't have it any other way.

The challenge of changing our rands into US dollars and Zambian kwacha on a public holiday was neatly negotiated. I drew one million kwacha from the ATM and felt a lot like Scrooge McDuck from Ducktails when I tried to swim in the cash on the bed back in our room. Xanthe just shook her head and giggled at my antics.

The Vic Falls itself is breathtaking and you get drenched by the mist as soon as you get anywhere near it. The power and the mass of water coming over is far too much to conceive of accurately. Not even Indiana Jones could survive a plunge from the top I'll bet.

Next on the agenda was a canoe trip along the Zambezi with some excited Poms, where as competitive South Africans Xanthe and I overtook all four of the other canoes in the rapids and pretended to be pirates by ramming our boat into the side of the unsuspecting others on every opportunity and yelling "Aaaarrr! Avast ye."

We were lucky enough to see elephants playing in the water on the banks of the river close up and passed a lazy hippo before heading home for a brief nap. Then it was off to the river again to hop on the sunset cruise aka booze cruise, where we were joined by fellow canoeing couple Will and Siobahn from London. They were a hoot and after several Mosi Lagers we agreed that the night was young and sought a new drinking hole in town.

The Fez bar had been recommended by to all of us, but clearly by somebody who was either blind, horribly confused, had shares in the business, was a lunatic that pointed us down the wrong street or all of the above. It was a dingy little bar attempting to be some kind on Americana bar so that the misinformed over could live the dream. What's more the electricity was out as we arrived and a man dressed all in white came rushing out to insist that we move inside anyway. As the only patrons at the place we had a unanimous vote to finish off the evening at Jolly Boys' bar, where the Londoners were staying.

On the dawn of adrenalin day we climbed into the morning shuttle and headed bravely towards the bridge over the falls. There we signed up for the 'big air' package and slid along the zip line across the gorge to the bridge, but that was the easy part. It was time for the bungee jump and Xanthe insisted that she should go first or risk chickening out. The adrenalin junky leaped off the platform and loved every second of her 111 metre fall and left me with no choice, but to man-up and follow her example. Diving off the bridge and plummeting towards the water below was both terrifying and exhilarating, but mostly the former if I'm perfectly honest.

Finally we finished with a tandem gorge swing that I still maintain might be even more frightening than the bungee and embarrassingly Xanthe kept her cool as I flailed about in momentary panic during the long freefall. After rewarding ourselves with a coke and high-fives all round, we prepared to raise ourselves up to the height of civilisation that afternoon.

At the Royal Livingstone hotel we sat down for high tea and ordered a Chinese blend called Gunpowder. We scoffed down some of the most decadent an delightful cakes, scones, cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off and every tasty treat both savory and sweet you can imagine. None were better than the best tiny quiches in the world. To complete our over-the-top experience a group of Zebra trotted past our table on the perfectly groomed lawn and there was beautiful background music coming from a man playing a grand piano for the entire two hours.