Trail Rookie: Victoria falls swing, Cape Town 2 Cairo unsupported Bicycle tour. Livingstone. Zambia

Trail Rookie
So there we were—sweaty, slightly broken, and highly caffeinated—rolling into Livingstone, Zambia after a humble little 167 km cycle. No support vehicle. No cushy backup team. Just us, our bikes, and the questionable life choices that led to this Cape Town to Cairo mission.

At this point, my legs had the emotional range of a toaster, and my butt had filed a formal complaint with the United Nations. But we’d made it. And where had we arrived? Nowhere less than the thundering glory of Victoria Falls—a place so epic, even the mist has its own weather system.

Locals call it Mosi-oa-Tunya, which translates to “The Smoke That Thunders.” And they’re not kidding. You don’t just see this waterfall—you hear it, feel it, and occasionally taste it when the mist slaps you in the face like a soggy tortilla.

Quick stats for the nerds:
📏 1.7 kilometers wide.
📉 108 meters high.
💧 Over 500 million liters of water crash down every minute during peak season.
🌍 It's one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World—and I was standing there, trying to act cool while quietly panicking about what I’d agreed to do next.

Because apparently, staring at the world's biggest curtain of water isn’t thrilling enough. No, someone had to invent the Gorge Swing.

Let me paint you a picture.
You stand on the edge of a canyon, 111 meters above the Zambezi River. They strap you into what I can only describe as skydiver-meets-diaper harness, waddle you to the edge, and then, smiling sweetly, they tell you to jump. Voluntarily.

Now, I’d like to say I approached this with bravery and grace. I did not.
I asked the guide, whose name was literally Blessing, if the harness had ever snapped. He laughed. I didn’t.

Then came the countdown:
“Three…”
I saw my childhood.
“Two…”
I remembered I’d never updated my will.
“One!”
My soul left my body, slapped me on the back of the head, and screamed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

I jumped.

Or rather, I fell. I plummeted. The freefall was 70 meters of pure, unfiltered panic. I screamed like a malfunctioning kettle. If you were anywhere near Livingstone that day and heard a distant banshee cry—that was me, achieving new heights in vocal range.

Then came the swing—massive, majestic, and just a little vomit-adjacent.
And suddenly, I was flying.
Soaring through a gorge, the Zambezi glistening below, and Victoria Falls rumbling in the distance like nature’s own subwoofer. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was… kind of addictive.

But wait—because Zambia doesn’t do things halfway. If falling once isn’t enough, you can also try the Victoria Falls Bungee Jump. 111 meters of sheer insanity, right off the Victoria Falls Bridge, which connects Zambia and Zimbabwe.

The bridge itself has history—it was completed in 1905 as part of Cecil Rhodes’ dream to build a railway “from Cape to Cairo.” The same journey we’re cycling. Coincidence? I think not. Destiny? Probably also not, but hey—it’s a great story hook.

You leap from this historic steel beast, heart in your throat, wondering if your ancestors are watching and shaking their heads. Spoiler: they are.

Livingstone itself is a vibrant, welcoming town named after Scottish explorer David Livingstone—the first European to lay eyes on the falls in 1855. He was so impressed, he named them after Queen Victoria. Classic colonial move. The locals had already given it a way cooler name, but hey—history is complicated.

Zambia, by the way, is one of Africa’s most underrated gems. Friendly people, wild national parks, vibrant culture, and roads that either make you stronger or make you cry. Sometimes both in the same day. It's also one of the safest and most peaceful countries in the region, which, when you’re pedaling through on two wheels with no backup, is very comforting.

Back to me—after surviving the swing (and yelling “I REGRET EVERYTHING” mid-air), I made the hike back up the gorge, wheezing like a 90-year-old chain-smoker. My legs, already offended from the morning’s 167km ride, were on the verge of mutiny.

And yet—I couldn’t stop smiling.

That’s the thing about this trip. It’s not just about the miles. It’s about the moments. The laughter. The locals cheering us on. The kid who tried to trade me a chicken for my helmet. The sheer madness of jumping off cliffs after a full day on a bike.

Victoria Falls isn’t just a landmark. It’s a gut-punch reminder of how small we are—and how alive we can feel when we step off the edge (literally).

So, to recap:
✅ 167km of Zambian tar and tears.
✅ One rookie conquered the Gorge Swing.
✅ No diapers were worn, but many were needed.
✅ Screamed loud enough to be heard in Zimbabwe.
✅ Would 100% do it again.
After a nap.

If you liked this chaos, make sure to like, subscribe, follow, or send snacks. This is just one stop on the madness of Cape Town to Cairo—unsupported, unpredictable, and occasionally unforgettable.

Catch you in the next country. Or possibly the next cliff.