The bus station was a cacaphony of sights and sounds.

By the time we touched down in Zambia’s capital city Lusaka, we were pretty done - after some 25 hours of flying, a 10 hour layover in Doha and not much sleep on the 3 different planes.

But of course the sights and sounds of Africa kept us awake!

We found our luggage without any problem - a large suitcase full of books for The Book Bus where we will be volunteering for 2 weeks. Another even larger suitcase full of clothing to give away, 4 skateboards with wheels and all tools needed to assemble them. Plus our own modest daypacks for a month of travel.

Just outside the airport entrance, we were able to buy sim cards for our phones. The nice guy also installed Yango App for me, the Zambian equivalent of Uber. That allowed us to call for a taxi without having to hackle over a price. And lo’ and behold, all four of us plus our luggage fitted in the tiny car that showed up!

We drove the red dusty roads into Lusaka with eyes wide open. Tall, straight backed women, wearing colourful African cloth skirts and carrying loads of water buckets, fruit platters or large shopping bags on their heads. Men on bicycles, lots of tiny tin roofed shops selling car parts or phone cards… What a difference with the world we left behind.

I was glad I had booked a nice hotel: the Garden Hilton in Lusaka was an oasis amid chaos. The crisp white sheets were the best thing we’d seen in 3 days and we slept half the day away. Even ordered room service!

The only time we ventured out, to cross the busy roads with cars that don’t stop for pedestrians, was to go to a supermarket to stock up on snacks and drinks for the next day. Shopping in a new country is always a fun adventure and here, right away, we are the only white people.

After another long night of catching up on sleep, we left early for the local bus station. There, absolute chaos reigned. It was a good thing our taxi driver knew which bus was ours and how to drop us off by the door to the bus. Smaller, rust bucket busses were parked hop scotch all over a square with people and piles of luggage trying to board. Busses came and went while people pushed wheelbarrows loaded with sofas, packs of water bottles, and vendors hawked headsets and fruit. We knew we were in Africa!

But our bus is a good looking, clean, air conditioned tour bus. It had taken me many hours online to figure out the best and safest way to travel north from Lusaka to Kitwe. NBZ looked good and, compared to any other bus I saw, was definitely the best choice except for flying. But flying was several hundreds of dollars per person and the bus cost about 15.- However, the 7 hour ride turned into almost 11 hours due to incredibly busy roads.

The first announcement as our bus pulled out of the ‘station’ was “Dear Passengers let us pray” followed by a prayer to guide our bus and driver. I prayed that the bus would make it all the way to Kitwe in northern Zambia.

The next announcement told us that the toilet is only for urinating, not for a number 2.

Not only did our bus have a hostess, it also had a cleaner with a mop who mopped the floor any time we stopped.

Outside was a chaotic jumble of people selling phone cords, bananas from large flat baskets carried on their heads, cookies, bags of flour, tshirts… Every time we stopped, these vendors descended on the outside of the bus in hopes of making a sale.

Along the dusty red roads, children ran along pushing sticks with milk jug toys. Women carry 12 packs of water, huge fruit platters and plastic pails, all on top of their heads. Men dug through piles of dirt to recover rocks, or cut firewood from fallen tree roots. While inside our bus we munch on biscuits and don’t have enough eyes to take it all in.

A little boy, maybe 9 years old, is in the seat next to me - all the way from Lusaka to Kitwe. He tells me that he is going to stay with his uncle for a while. His mom dropped him off, gave him a bag of food and asked me and the lady on the other side of the aisle to keep an eye on him. He calls me ‘auntie’ and contently plays some games on a little device until he falls asleep, drooling on my shoulder.

I can't imagine the weight of that many melons carried on the head!

Luckily we have front row seats because there is so much to see! Soon the outskirts of Lusaka gave way to a reddish dusty landscape dotted with villages and lone houses. Chickens scurried along the road, school children walked in knee highs and blue skirts. And everywhere, beautiful women carry everything possible on their heads while carrying babies in a sling on their back. I especially loved the little roadside stalls displaying piles and piles of shiny red tomatoes - the only bright colours among the rusty dust. The two lane road had non stop bumper to bumper traffic of lorries thundering from South Africa to the Congo, through the length of Zambia.

While Zambia has many local languages, Engllish is the official language.

I notice interesting signs: one is for Hybrid Chicken. I can’t help but wonder what that means…

I spot the ‘Lucky Angels Primary School’ and ‘Termite Meat Seller’.

Outside, it’s 40º, inside we were subjected to 11 hours of endless music videos of Abba and Celine Dion…

At the one pit stop we made, we were loath to use the latrine but were happy to buy hot samosas and cold cola.

It was absolutely fabulous to arrive, at 7 pm, in the city of Kitwe in Zambia’s Copperbelt region, and to be welcomed by big hugs from the local Book Bus team. Our adventure was off to a good start!