So time had come to depart Livingston and head back to Lusaka. It was the beginning of the journey home even though that journey would take 4 days. On a side note these last few blogs have been an effort to write as I’ve struggled to find time to write them but as I write this I’m sitting beside a pool in the glorious sunshine of 3 in the afternoon with a beer in my hand, its gonna be so shit seeing rain again why can’t Ireland be sunny. So back to day 48 (or Monday as we called it) when we woke we had packed most our bags from the night before but we hadn’t cleaned the room, it was amazing how much rubbish we had generated in the short few days we’d been there. To get to the bus station Dan, Áine and our bags hopped in a taxi while me and Jamie set off walking to see Livingston for one last time and also to buy some breakfast on the way. Eventually we all gathered at the bus station and loaded our bags on the bus and set off for Lusaka. Once again the bus journey was only notable for 2 reasons only and one reason was the constant playing of the song Mandy (the bloody Westlife version) and an annoying Preacher who hopped on the bus about half way and spent about half an hour lecturing the bus by shouting about “believing in the death of Jesus” (I believe already the guys dead now shut up). Its amazing how much it sounded like attempted brainwashing. At the end he asked if anyone was willing to let Jesus Christ into their life (none of the Zambians cared either) and I was so tempted to put my hand in the air but thought better of it. Finally hopped off the bus and the journey continued with another couple of plays of Mandy before finally after 6 hours 40 minutes we hopped of the bus in Lusaka where we got a taxi back to the same hostel as before. We had booked a 3 bed dorm and a double room but when we got there these rooms weren’t available so instead we had to share so we reverted to the arrangement of the first night here with Jamie and Dan sharing and me and Áine sharing. Áine still wasn’t feeling great so she paid for a taxi to take us to Manda Hill, the fancy shopping centre. Here we bought some chocolately items and some crisps and headed back to the hostel. When we got back me and Dan sat in the only area of the hostel to have both internet connection a sockets. It was a small porch area in front of reception with a few seats. We were joined by a bunch of young English girls there was so many of them they surrounded us. They’re accents were really annoying and they were so loud. They started playing a game where two people had to face back to back and hold up either their own or the other persons show depending on what they thought the answer to each of the questions was. The game was designed to be controversial but the questions were really shit like “who’s more likely to get into Oxbridge?” Me and Dan kept slagging them off by writing message on our laptops for the others to see. The girl asking the question was really bitchy and really bossy “who’s the biggest bitch around “. Each time we laughed they thought we were enjoying the game and asked us if we wanted to join we declined their offer. We kept answering the questions with joke answers from people we knew. To make it bearable to listen to them I had a few beers and when buying one Dan asked me to check if they had “Amerula” they had so I bought to to try it. It was really really nice. It tested like melted honeycomb ice cream it was so easy to drink which is generally a bad thing. Luckily the girls went to bed and we didn’t end up ordering more (it could have ended shake shake bad). I stayed up for a bit on the internet after Dan went to bed but eventually around twelve I hit the hay. One day in Africa left, it’ll be weird to leave.
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