By Tristen Taylor | Photos by Nathalie Bertrams
Nathalie and I have been stranded in Zambia for the past 115 days, and Zambian customs won’t extend the temporary import papers for her 1988 Toyota Land Cruiser. Despite a quarter million kilometers on the clock, a yelping suspension and the pickup of a slug on barbiturates, it’s a much-sought-after vehicle, the car for Africa. Sand, rocks, deep mud, no problem.
The gangster bosses running violent mining syndicates in the Copperbelt complimented us on the car.
Customs wants us to park it in a dusty lot behind their office in Lusaka. They tell us we can fly back after lockdown ends and pick it up: Don’t worry, they say, police guard the lot.