Zambia: Where Africa Breathes Deep and Wild

I didn’t go to Zambia for the Instagram photos. I didn’t even go because I thought I’d fall in love with it. I went because something in me said: go somewhere that’s still raw, still real, still humming with something older than roads and lodges and curated safari vans.

And Zambia is exactly that.

It’s the kind of place where you don’t always know what the next day holds. Maybe a lion sighting over coffee. Maybe a boat crossing where the “ferry” is a steel plate on floating oil drums. But if you’ve got patience, a good sense of humor, and a taste for wildness, Zambia might just grab hold of your spirit.

We spent three weeks driving and drifting across Zambia, staying in eco-lodges, rustic bush camps, and even the occasional riverside splurge. What follows is part story, part practical guide—for those who want a travel experience that feels alive, unpolished, and unforgettable.

The journey began in Lusaka...

Zambia’s capital doesn’t ask for your attention, but it’s worth a pause. We stayed at Wild Dogs Lodge, about 20 minutes outside the city. It’s green and quiet and has a pool that feels like an oasis after the dusty roads. There’s also Pioneer Lodge, which is a classic pre/post-safari stop—simple, friendly, and close enough to the airport to ease into things.

We stocked up on groceries, SIM cards, and diesel. If you’re self-driving, get used to carrying cash, filling up whenever you can, and asking locals about road conditions. Google Maps won’t always be honest with you here.

South Luangwa: The beating heart of Zambia’s wild

We headed northeast to South Luangwa National Park, a long, pothole-riddled drive but absolutely worth every jolt. This park is where safari-goers go when they’ve already “done” the Serengeti or Kruger and want something rawer.

You won’t find crowded game drives here. What you will find is a leopard slinking through dusk shadows. Elephants wading across the Luangwa River at sunset. Lions lounging like they own the place—which, let’s be real, they do.

We camped a few nights at Croc Valley Camp, which toes that line between adventure and comfort beautifully. There's a pool, a good bar, and you can hear hippos grunting through the night. We also treated ourselves to two nights at Flatdogs Camp, where the tents feel more like safari suites, and the food is so good you’ll start looking forward to meals more than game drives. Almost.

Walking safaris started here, and doing one is non-negotiable. There’s nothing like stepping into a lion’s world on foot, heart pounding, senses on full alert. We had an incredible guide who taught us to read tracks like they were stories in the dirt.

The Great Rift to Lower Zambezi

From South Luangwa, we crossed the country westward to Lower Zambezi National Park. The road is long, partly paved, partly wishful thinking. But the shift is dramatic—woodlands giving way to riverbanks, thick with fig trees and echoing with birds.

We stayed at Kiambi Safari Lodge, a lovely riverside camp just outside the park boundaries. You can go upmarket at places like Chongwe River Camp if your wallet allows—it’s next-level luxury in the bush—but we stuck to modest lodges that still gave us boat access and all the atmosphere we wanted.

Lower Zambezi is water-based safari heaven. Game drives are great, sure, but there’s something poetic about floating silently along the Zambezi, watching elephants swim, hippos yawn, and crocodiles sunbathe like they’ve got nowhere else to be. We fished, too—though the tigerfish outsmarted us more often than not.

Victoria Falls: Thunder, mist, and mischief

Eventually, we turned south for the mighty Victoria Falls, or Mosi-oa-Tunya—"the smoke that thunders." And thunder it does. You hear the roar before you see anything. Then the mist hits you in the face, and suddenly you're in one of the most powerful places on Earth.

We stayed in Livingstone, the town on the Zambian side, which is more laid-back than its Zimbabwean twin. Jollyboys Backpackers is great if you’re on a budget—it’s social, clean, and has a pool. For something a bit more indulgent, Maramba River Lodge strikes a lovely balance: canvas chalets, wildlife wandering through camp, and views of the river that make you want to slow down time.

The Falls themselves? Nothing prepares you for them. We walked the knife-edge trail (you’ll get soaked—embrace it), rafted the Zambezi rapids downstream (adrenaline junkies, this one’s for you), and watched the sunset from the Royal Livingstone’s riverside deck, gin and tonic in hand, as zebras grazed nearby like unpaid extras in a scene too perfect to be scripted.

Kafue National Park: The unsung giant

Before heading back to Lusaka, we made time for Kafue, one of Africa’s largest national parks and one of its least visited. Which is insane, because Kafue is magic. It’s remote, mysterious, and full of life that’s both wild and shy.

We stayed at Kasabushi Camp, which felt like a secret someone accidentally let us in on. The chalets are hand-crafted with wood and thatch, there’s no Wi-Fi or electricity, and the stars—God, the stars.

Kafue is for the patient traveler. You won’t see ten lion prides in a day. But you’ll hear the cry of a fish eagle echoing over the water. You’ll spot sable antelope or a leopard melting into tall grass. You’ll feel like you're truly out there—just you and Africa, with no filters or fences.

What I learned

Zambia isn’t trying to impress you. It doesn’t need to. It offers you space, silence, and the kind of deep wilderness that most places lost decades ago.

It teaches you to slow down. To look closer. To respect the wild not as a backdrop, but as the main character. It reminds you that nature is not just a photo opportunity—it’s an experience, a relationship, a pulse.

If you're looking for curated safari perfection, this might not be your place.

But if you're ready to sweat a little, improvise a lot, and open yourself to whatever the road gives you—Zambia will meet you with open skies, warm people, and a whole lot of soul.

And you’ll leave something of yourself behind there. I know I did.