Zimbabwe

Hello all,

I’ve met many people in SA who spoke of Zimbabwe with such fondness and desired to live there once the trouble went away that I was sure it would have to be an anti-climax. It was with great surprise that I discovered a wonderfully beautiful country full of people still eager to befriend and aid you despite the cloud of hopelessness that lies over everything. It wasn’t until I left Zimbabwe and returned to Mozambique that I truly noticed the difference. You can see it in the way they walk, slow and without purpose. There is nowhere to go and nothing to be done to better the situation.

As a result of removing most of the farmers there is no food in the country. Everything has to be imported and it’s expensive. Inflation is running in the hundreds of %. Not even maize meal, the staple food of southern africa, can be found and the crops that I passed on the road did not look healthy. There is no money for fertiliser.

Victoria Falls, as most tourist towns are, is not representative of the rest of the counry. Everyone is trying to sell you something and the endless hassle I received from men wanting to buy me dinner (the irony), be my friend or have my contact details was driving me insane. The falls were stunning but difficult to see as the spray would rise 200m up in the air!! The falls themselves are about 100m high. Needless to say, as you approach one end of the falls you are completely soaked by the spray which is an exhilerating experience. I really wanted to go white-water rafting but the first 10 rapids were shut (too much flow), so I gave them a miss.

The people from my overland tour gradually left on different days until it was just myself and Yvonne. We visited Zamiba for a day, partially for something to do and for me, an essential requirement if I wished to stay longer in Zimbabwe as so many places (accomodation by law) required payment in US dollars. The local currency looks like toy money and has an expiry date of 1 year (so most notes were expired), also with inflation running at is and the black market going double time, dollars are a far safer bet. Thereby making them impossible to acquire in Zimbabwe. I was lucky to change just $200 in Zambia, several other people who came to do the same were turned away. When I arrived in Zimbabwe, the black market rate was running at about 160,000 Zim$ to the US$ (the offical rate is 100,000), when I left, 9 days later, the rate was running at 200,000 Zim$ to the US$. Not a sign of a healthy economy! Zambia seemed like a friendly, relaxed and stable country but I doubt I will go back.

I left Vic Falls on the overnight train to Bulawayo. The two ladies in my compartment spoke to each other in English and their conversation revoled around business oportunities and the best place to buy goods. One of them mentioned how her (Zimbabewan family) used to help out her sister in Zambia. Now it’s the other way around. The second lady was from Botswana. The train was similar to the ones in Russia but not as clean, no cabin attendants and no linen but still a perfectly good way to travel. As we pulled out of the station, I had my head out of the window watching the moon was rise over the bush, careful not to have it knocked off by a passing branch ; )

Bulawayo is a perfectly ok town but I decided not to stay long. Due to the lack of tourists I was lucky enough to hire a car to take me to the wildlife orphanage, driven by an ex-tour guide, so he also showed me around the orphanage and told me a little about some of the animals. They have lions and rhinos raised from birth and I got to touch them both!! Awesome! Only though the gate though.. Probably safer that way! They also had leopars, civets and servals so I manged to see some cats that are really difficult to see in the wild. The leopard was the only one of the big 5 we missed on the overland trip.

Leaving Bulawayo I was assisted by a man who met me at the station. He helped me get to my hostel (hoping I would book a trip through him), I never did but he turned up at the hostel when I was leaving (still hoping) and I used his car as a taxi to get to the bus station. When we arrived, he was worried about me getting mugged in the station and went running through (in midday heat) to find the correct bus and price for me, escorted me there and then insisted to the bus conductor that I was properly taken care of. A lovely man. Most Zimbabwaeans I met were although I was frequently sceptical at first.

The minibus journey took 5 hours with no toilet breaks. It gave me a lot of time to think and enjoy the passing scenery. Today was my birthday. In the morning, I went to the internet cafי to find a email from my friend Andy saying that I'd probably not be needed back in Tofo. I really believed that I’d be going back and was quite devestated. After leaving the internet I went to an upmarket bakery for a slice of birthday strudel and a diet coke. Tears pretty much running down my face the whole time. Finally facing that I was not going back proved to throw up a whole bag of worms.

For a while, I had felt my heart wasn’t in travelling anymore and I hadn’t enjoyed the overland trip as much as I though I would. I was starting to think that perhaps my goal of travelling the world had surplanted what would actually make me happy. Perhaps I should be hanging up my travelling shoes and settling down. I missed my friends and also someone extra special. In short, I was in emotional turmoil.

Long bus rides have a sort of medititational effect on me. There is nothing to do (too squashed and bumpy to even read) and you enter a sort of a trance. Perfect state for my mind at the moment. On the road I realised that I wasn’t enjoying travelling so much because I wasn’t doing what I really wanted to do (follow the major dive sites) and had been side-tracked by the need to do countries “properly” otherwise I haven’t done them justice. Also I realised that I was allowing myself to be lured away by the easy safe path. It’s hard to follow your dream and when things get a little rough, living in an easy place like Tofo and having a normal life for a change is an attractive option. So something in me died, my overpowering desire to return to Tofo, and something came alive again, my joy in travel. The evening to come felt like a present for both my birthday and my decision.

Arriving in Massavingo, a couple of boys insisted that I use their car as a taxi, I was tired, just wanted to get to the hotel and couldn’t see any other taxis so I agreed. The boys must have been in their late teens and were drinking this awful alcohol that smelt 100% proof, luckily the driver not so much. The drive took ages (we were only going 36km) because whenever we reached downhill slope, he would turn the engine off to save petrol. A common practice in Zim at the moment. There is little petrol because there is no foreign currency to bring it into the country. They were really starting to annoy me, asking inane questions, also it became increasingly obvious that what we had agreed was percieved differently by both parties. They though they were taking me 22km for 5million Zim$ (about $50us) and I thought there were taking me 36km for 5US$. Trouble was coming. In fact it was just setting in as we turned the corner as the sun set over the lake casting a beautiful purple glow all around. I could only enjoy it for a few seconds before it was back to the argument.

Eventually we pulled up at the Inn on Zimbabwe. A lovely colonial style lodge with budget rooms and also a complete surprise to me as I was expecting something quite rundown. I was always surprised to find any of the hostels I arrived at open at all. The arguing continued in reception which was very embarrasing as this was a “nice” place with a sign saying no sandals or shorts in the dining room. I gave them $10 which is about fair but they still wouldn’t go. I asked the manager to show me to my room and even then it was a good 20mins before the car pulled away. Relief. A shower and a change, I returned to the manger and apologised for the preceeding events. The manager was eager to apologise on their behalf and explain that not all Zimbabweans are like that. To me, there were drunk kids who don’t really know what they are doing.

I had dressed in my best clothes for dinner and sat down in a dining room that reminded me of the clubs in Hong Kong. It was comforting and poignant. The waiter introduced himself to me (Sam) and explained what was on the menu for the evening (a very traditional 4 course English dinner). At various stages he would come over to talk to me in a polite but not intrusive manner, as did the manager. I can’t imagine there are many places like this left in Africa. After the meal, he showed me to the sitting area and asked if I wished to peruse the reading material avaiable. It’s hard to explain as most of you have no idea what the colonial club style is but to me, it’s a reminder of my childhood and this was straight out of it. It was a very moving and special occasion especially after the day I’d had. My first birthday by myself and an utterly rememerable one.

The next day I was lucky enough to grab a lift with a passing overland company to the ancient ruins at Greater Zimbabwe. The oldest ruined stone structures south of the pyramids and legacy to the Zimbabwean empire. I spent the day there on a tour and exploring by myself before walking the 10km back to the Inn, passing other locals on the way with a smile and a nod. The evening was similar to the night before and also very pleasant although no Sam this time and the new waiter wasn’t as good.

Considering the prices the hostels I Zimbabe charge, this Inn, whilst being the best place I stayed, it was also the cheapest. The 4 course dinner costing the same as a burger and fries did in Vic Falls. The manager arranged for me to have a lift with the owners who were driving to Mutare the next morning. The trip took several hours and I had some very fascinating conversations with this white man who had been living in Zimbabwe for most of his life. Again, we had the colonial background in common and it was very easy to feel a kinship.

That night he and his wife insisted I stay with them at their home in Vumba, which has to be the most stunning place I have ever seen to live. High up in the mountains of native bush, overlooking a valley where the mists come up in the morning. Most of their neighbours have left and they worry for their future. There is no money here but where would they go. They have several black staff who do not want them to leave, one of them, Oliver, has been with them 20 years since he was 14. This was my first taste of true African hospitality and it was extremely welcome.

The next day, I changed some money on the black market… and hitched to Harare. In Zim, when you hitch, you still pay the same price as a bus but go in comfort in a proper car. My driver was a paramedic with the fire service in Harare and he was taking his niece back there. On the way, we stopped off at his Uncles’ farm to say hello.

In Harare, your average city, looks quite modern in places, I went on internet to find an email saying pls come back to Tofo so have decided to do so.

Zimbabwe was quite an adventure and it has restored my love of travel and helped remove my fear of travelling in Africa. It took me 36 hours straight to come from Harare to Tofo by 5 buses, 1 train, 1 shared taxi and a boat but that too was enjoyable in its way. It’s good to be back and seeing everyone again. My two old housemates Paul and Nadine have left and I miss them terribly but apart from that Tofo is basically the same. I should be here till at least after Easter.

This has been quite a long email but I had a lot to say. Been back for 10 days now. Hope you are all well and happy.

Lots of love
Kathryn xxx