As you may recall from my last blog, I was beginning to experience an unusual entry into the land of Zambia. I had collected my Tanzanian exit stamp in the early hours of the morning and joined my mate Anita in order to get our visas from the on board customs officials. Having explained to the officials just what they needed to know, the officers felt the situation might best be dealt with in the privacy of their onboard office. The slight hitch to our situation was that Anita had slept through her Tanzanian exit stamp, and I had mine in the wrong passport. We stepped into the first class ‘office’ and the door was pulled closed for further privacy. As the window blind was shut as well, I decided to pull the corridor door back open. Sitting on top of a bed in a dark cabin with 2 officials wasn’t really how I had envisioned getting my Zambian visa. There really wasn’t a problem with any justification, so we battled with the first presented option of getting off of the train at the next stop and making our way overland back to Tanzania for a stamp. “There MUST be an easier solution officer?”

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