Spirits are high today as we have borrowed a vehicle and are going in to Ndola. We need to get some food, and also plan to have a steak and chip lunch at a ‘proper’ restaurant. We are however going in a 40 year old Land Rover. Me: Hulking Piece of Break-Down Shit. The Husband: Great Boy-Toy Adventure Vehicle. Spirits are dashed again when we discover there is no petrol on site and there’s not enough in the LR to get into town. Spirits hovering again when we learn that there are men by the side of the road who will sell us petrol from a plastic container…Not sure if this is a good thing. We decide to go. We take Frank with us to show us where to stop, as Delboy is unavailable today.
The petrol seller’s venue is off the tarmac road, behind a broken-down bottle store. In the middle of some fairly tatty traditional huts is a crenellated, turreted house painted in garish colours. Clearly the dodgy petrol business is a profitable one.
We barely make it in to town. The LR breaks down on the way home. We have to abandon it complete with groceries. Oh the anguish! We hitch and hike back to the project. So far we have spent about 8 hours travelling 200 kilometres, and still have no food.