Simon Barnes

On sitting stil l in Zambia

Sometimes I think the best part of travelling is sitting still.

I was co-leading a trip to the Luangwa Valley in Zambia, and one of our guests, Heather, decided not to take part in the morning walk. This was quite a big deal: it is, after all, the centrepiece of the day – the principal activity, what you’ve come for, what you’ve paid your money for. So I was… concerned.

The others came on the walk, the highlight of which was a herd of 1,000 buffalo going down to the river 38 wanderlust.co.uk March 2019

The author and journalist meditates on the blissful benefits of not doing, not searching, not moving, not exploring – just in a special place, and understanding why it’s special

No urgent appointment. No jobs that need doing. No connectivity. But it’s not just the negatives: it’s the sense of being in a place you’ve fallen in love with, and having it to yourself. Places can grow on you – and these quiet times are when they do the growing.

I’ve noticed it happening in many of the guests. For the first day or so, we cruise around the park in vehicles, looking for big sightings: elephants under trees, leopards in trees, lions in an insolent doze, lilac-breasted rollers in a million colours, bateleur eagles defying gravity.

Walking safaris in South Luangwa offer close encounters with lilac-breasted rollers and huge buffalo herds

And then the pressure’s off. You no long need to tick off anything, or get the big cat photo. You’ve already seen an awful lot… so now you can start to understand it. Understand the place, and how it works, and why it is the way it is.

Profound sitting

At this stage we leave the vehicle behind and spend five days walking: coming to grips with the country, ceasing to be a spectator and becoming a participant. After the morning walk, back to the camp, and the long, slow afternoon. Doze, read, chat, look, listen, sit. Sometimes I sits and thinks; sometimes I just sits. And perhaps the second experience is the more profound.

It’s true of all kinds of travel, not just travel to wild places. Perhaps the most meaningful part of a visit to a European city is not the Botticellis but the beer: sitting quietly in a café after the visit to the Uffizi, the impossible images still fresh in your mind.

There are truths to be found in quietness. Perhaps the great passions of love are merely the way to reach a great shared quietness. Perhaps all action demands a quietness and stillness… the sort of things we mostly factor out of our busy 21st-century lives. Travel is a form of action – a violent assertion of the will. But if you want to understand your journey, you need the times of stillness – times to come to terms with big experiences.

One evening at Crocodile, we sat down for drinks just as the sun went down. Half an hour later were joined by a dozen lions. We moved away calmly and politely, and then had another drink. It was one of those experiences that stay with you.

But you understand such things better by sitting still. In this wonderful place, you sit there knowing that you are breathing the same air as lions wanderlust.co.uk March 2019

To understand your journey, you need the times of stillness – times to come to terms with big experiences