BUSH WHACKED
rubbed my bleary eyes as the caffeine kicked in, and the fog lifted. Twenty-three hours of air travel, on a nearly 12,000-mile marvel of a modern journey from Gotham City to Lusaka, Zambia—what used to be Northern Rhodesia. Then, three hours’ sleep in a fantastic hotel after greeting friends old and new. I cracked a local Mosi beer for breakfast. It would have been almost rude not to. Some might well agree that it would even out the cockeyed view of the world-class sunrise peeking through my
