Falls and a bathtub with a view

Travelling always seems like an  expensive sport that only a select few can engage in. It feels difficult for many reasons — bills, children, work — the list goes on. 

But a week ago, I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see Zambia and Zimbabwe and the experience left me in awe — and also questioning accessibility, privilege and the cost of adventure. 

On the Monday of our departure, we boarded a plane that was having technical difficulties. 

Whatever was broken took a while to fix, and when it was finally sorted, someone in the cockpit must have decided to punish us for the wait by cranking up the air conditioning to Arctic levels. 

My joints felt frozen, the pain spreading through my limbs as if I had just taken a deep dive into a frozen lake. 

By the time we landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, an hour and 40 minutes later, my body had still not recovered from the near-frostbite experience. 

Stepping out onto Zimbabwean soil, we were met with thick, humid air, a sharp contrast to the manufactured winter we had just endured on the plane. 

The airport itself, like many across the continent, operated at its own pace. Immigration was an unnecessary headache. 

A single word — “journalist” — on my immigration form led to questioning from officers who suddenly found me more interesting than the tourists who were breezing through the queue. 

A colleague later warned me: “Never write that. Just say ‘writer’.”

Apparently, in some countries, the mere mention of “journalist” sets off alarm bells and I had just learned that lesson firsthand. 

The shuttle ride to our hotel, Anantara Stanley & Livingstone Victoria Falls, was mostly silent. 

Our driver attempted small talk, but between defrosting our bodies and taking in the lush scenery, the passengers were lost in thought. 

Victoria Falls is stunning — wild, green, untouched in parts, and vast in its beauty. 

Booking in 

At the hotel, we were greeted with song and dance, a warm welcome that momentarily erased the discomforts of travel. 

Check-in was seamless and soon we were led to our suites. 

The hotel struck a balance between modern luxury and safari charm. Wooden floors, handcrafted cupboards, and a freestanding bathtub made the space feel curated, yet personal. Unlike many hotel rooms, which can feel dark and musty, this one breathed. It felt lived-in, but not in a way that made it seem like someone else’s space. 

Just outside my suite was a pond teeming with wildlife. 

My rural upbringing taught me that, when it comes to nature, admiration should be done from a respectful distance. So, instead of trying to get closer, I let the sounds of the wild remind me that, for a brief moment, I was outside the chaos of the city. 

A taste of the wild 

Relaxed enough, we joined an interactive gin session — an interesting change from the usual wine tastings. 

But I have recently decided to put alcohol aside for a while, so I sat this one out. Maybe next time, I’d be back to my rock star ways. 

Dinner at the 1871 restaurant was paired with wine and hosted by the gracious Dionne Mutsonziwa, the hotel manager. 

She spoke about how the hotel caters to its guests but what caught my attention was her casual mention of the pride of lions that had wandered through the property just days before. 

That’s the kind of luxury experience you don’t get in a city —  having your morning coffee accompanied by the distant roar of a predator. 

The next morning, we set out to see Victoria Falls. The closer we got, the more the warm, humid air turned into a cool mist, a gentle prelude to the roar of the water. 

The experience was spiritual, like standing before something ancient and sacred — bigger than you. 

There are 16 viewpoints on the Zimbabwean side, each offering a different perspective, some allowing glimpses into Zambia. 

I wish I could see it again for the first time. 

 Back at the hotel, we freshened up and embarked on a safari drive, led by Sikhulu Nkomo, who had also guided us at the falls. 

Wildlife tracking is not like it appears to be in National Geographic — the animals don’t just pop up for a photo op. 

We saw giraffes, followed lion tracks and watched dung beetles doing their diligent work. 

But where were the rhinos? After what felt like a lifetime, we found them — two, in separate locations. 

The effort it took to see them made the sight even more rewarding. 

That night, we had a safari dinner, where I reluctantly tried impala stir-fry. I justified it as a well-earned meal after the day’s adventure, but when I glanced over at Nkomo’s plate, I noticed something missing. 

“Are you not having impala tonight?” someone asked. “I do not eat my clients,” he responded. 

The table erupted into laughter, and for the first time all day, the exhaustion felt worth it. 

Back in my luxurious room, with a bed big enough to fit a family of seven, I calculated the cost of this experience. 

It is R16 154 per night, including breakfast. For three nights? R48 462. Steep. But, if planned over a year, and shared between two people, R2 019.25 per month each makes it possible.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem entirely unattainable. 

Crossing into Zambia 

The drive took about 35 minutes, leading us into another world of romance and cosmopolitan luxury.

The room was exquisite, with one feature sparking the most conversation — a freestanding bathtub right in the middle of the bedroom. Clearly designed for Instagram. 

From the tub, you could see the Zambezi River and the mist of Victoria Falls in the distance. 

The next morning, we swam in the falls. Not near them. In them. For someone who believes in spiritual cleansing, this was a baptism by nature.

If there was any bad omen following me, surely it had been washed away by the sheer force of the water. 

There is no sangoma who could convince me otherwise — this was the purest form of cleansing one could get. 

Adding up the cost 

Before leaving, we went on a sunset cruise along the Zambezi, reflecting on the journey. 

The Royal Livingstone Hotel by Anantara costs R11 204 a night, with breakfast and complimentary access to the falls. 

Again, breaking that down over a year made it feel more manageable, but still, who truly gets to experience this? That’s the reality of luxury travel in Africa — it remains out of reach for most. 

The sheer privilege of witnessing such beauty up close, of being catered to in places where locals might  never step foot, is unsettling. 

It’s a reminder of the economic divide that exists, even in paradise.

However, if the opportunity presents itself, Zimbabwe and Zambia will change your life. And if you plan it carefully, maybe, just maybe, you can make it happen.

Lesego Chepape’s trip was sponsored by Minor Hotels.