There are two parts to this page: the
Travel Facts section, and the
Diary section.
Key Travel Facts - Details that other overlanders might like to know
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Change US Dollars on the black market – the rate is significantly better, albeit illegal. A safe way is to visit one of the larger shops (eg Spar) and ask to see the Manager. They will normally be keen to buy dollars (as will anyone else who is in a position to be saving some income). In Feb 2005, bank rates were 5,500 and black-market rates 9,000.
Carnets are officially recognised though the customs officer may not have seen the form before. We had to explain to our customs officer where to stamp and which part to keep (Chirundu border). He seemed happy enough with this. You also need to purchase carbon-tax at the border.
Diesel: Fill everything up whenever you get the chance and you should be fine (and it’s cheap – 30c per litre). Diesel seemed readily available on the Chirundu – Harare road, and in Harare itself. Also in towns closer to Harare (eg Gweru). Further south seemed more scarce (eg Bullawayo had no diesel) and speaking to garages it is not uncommon for them to go without for several weeks. Vic Falls also had shortages (although many overlanders had claimed that ‘Vic Falls always has diesel’.
DIARY - How we're getting on, and what we've been up to
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Nights spent sleeping in proper buildings: Plenty thanks to good hospitality!
Number of punctures: One. Tube blown apart by the heat.
Number of cock-ups: One if you count forgetting to extent our seven day transit visa. Though of no significance.
Treating ourselves: Antelope Park. Superb lodge, great value.
Slumming or Adventuring it: Wild camping in Mana Pools with the hyena and hippo.
ZIMBABWE
It was good to be in Zimbabwe again after so many years. In many ways it was Zimbabwe that had inspired the trip, since Nigel had fallen in love with Africa after visiting Grandparents and family out here several years ago. First we would have the border to negotiate.
We had heard that some of the more distant borders would not accept carnets, and indeed Chirundu appeared never to have seen one before. However, after explaining to the clerk that he would simply need to ‘stamp here, keep this, and sign there’ the form was completed. At least to our satisfaction. The InterPol police check of the car was due, and with the prospect of more confusion over engine and chasis numbers the police agreed that it would be fine but that maybe we would like to give five US to our ‘poor Zimbabwean friends’. Soon we were on our way.
Leaving the border compound we were astounded to spot a large bull elephant by the roadside.
We filled up with diesel (at one third the price of Zambia), and continued on to Mana pools.
It was a couple of hours on dirt track before we got to the main office where we had hoped to book into a lodge. Sadly the rates we had been quoted turned out to be Residents, so we downgraded our plans to the campsite. Still, it was a brilliant and totally wild camp, so we were not all disappointed.
We were poorly prepared for our time in the camp, and had not stocked up on drinks or food, other than water and pasta. It would be a fairly boring few days from a culinary perspective! Our first night was spent cooking spaghetti, and stoking up the fire to discourage prowling animals. I spent the night sleeping, whilst Gina spent the night being disturbed by hippo grazing around our tent.
Game drives were exciting, especially with Park Clause 2; “Exiting from the car and walking is permitted.” Surely this was a typo of sorts, and they meant Prohibited? But no, this is actually the only park in Zimbabwe where unescorted walking safaris are allowed, albeit at individuals own risks.
We joined one of the Lion Researchers in the park to set off in search of a pride for the morning. Some serious off-road driving, testing Forbie’s clearance to the max, saw us close enough to park up. We would continue on foot, using our guide’s radio receiver to track the family. He had detected two females and a male. As we pushed through fairly dense bush on foot, with the knowledge of what was around us, we were pleased to have our Gunman in tow.
Soon we stumbled across two large female lions finishing off a zebra. The receiver told us that the male was close by, but the bush was too dense to continue for fear of being surprised by a large male lion. Instead we watched the females finish off their kill until they wandered off into the bush. We were only about twenty-five metres from the lions, and it was certainly as close as we would want to be. The Masaii had told us that lions would always avoid eye-contact with humans, looking away or pretending to sleep. It was there way of avoid confrontation with an animal they considered to be a threat. These lions stared right at us, and we couldn’t help but feel that we were being sized up.
The afternoon was spent out on the Zambezi in a canoe. More close-encounters. We were often canoeing amongst families of hippo, and any one of them on their own was plenty big enough to be scary! At times families would scatter over sand bars to move away from us. Our guide would bang on the canoe to warn them that we were coming. We got out on a small island to watch a large bull elephant for a bit. Its tusks were simply enormous. Our guide gave us a very precise estimate of 66 or 67 years for its age.
That evening we settled down at our camp to cook more pasta. Dinner was just over and the fire was beginning to settle down when Gina announced that she had heard something around the other side of the car. I was keen to believe that she was imagining it, and told her so but Gina was convinced. We both stood up to look round by the bonnet, and peering through the darkness were confronted by the largest Spotted Hyena that we have ever seen walking briskly right over to us. Gina was up the ladder to the tent in less than a second. I was left down on the ground with only a dimly lit torch for defence. And that was little more than useless. With Gina keeping her eye on the hyena that had now settled in the dark about five metres away, I continued to pack away the camp gear in double-quick time. Soon I was also up in the tent, heart recovering, and ready to settle down for the evening. The night was spent listening to the hippos grazing around the car again, waking in the morning to watch them wander down to the water.
The drive to Harare was a chance to get some food. First stop was the Mukuti service station that had not changed in the eight years since I had last visited, and served the best fry-up in Africa (that we have yet sampled). Just imagine how good that tasted after forty-eight hours of spaghetti and soup. The remainder of the drive was dull, aside from the sign for “Dins Night Club, Butchery and Truck Stop” that tempted me briefly. Gina was sleeping at the time, but I pressed on regardless. It was nice that things were familiar, and we even stopped at the non-particularly impressive Chinoyi Caves, because that is what we always do on that drive.
In Harare we were pleased to find Zingy’s house easily enough, and pleased to be able to settle down in a home. Carol and Gurt, some family friends, were around to help us settle in. We went for a wander around the area, passing by my old Grandparent’s house which was quite a trip up memory lane.
(Dad, skip this para.) A phone call to Grace Bowlt, one of my Grandmother’s good friends, revealed that she was bed-ridden following a slip on the hall-way carpet. A fact that she made me promise never to tell my father who had warned her against such an accident ten years ago. We went round to visit, and she was soon out of bed bounding around in her dressing gown, fetching us drinks and showing how the burglars had broken in a while back. She was clearly in a lot of pain and was due to have a brace fitted to support her back for recovery. It was nice to chat about ‘the old Zim’ and the time when my Grandparents lived in Harare.
Later we visited the Borrowdale market to buy some carvings, one of Gina’s main motivators for the trip! As I had remembered from ten years before, there were so many stalls to choose from. Sadly though the artists were in a desperate state and with no tourists they were quite genuinely struggling to make a living. We bought the pieces that we wanted, trying to strike the appropriate balance between exploitation (on our part) and ‘good price’, and then a few more when they began asking us to ‘give them something’ in return for carvings. It has become really difficult for so many people in Zimbabwe to survive.
Locals had told us not to visit the City Centre, especially on a Saturday approaching elections when it would be a “very crowded sea of black faces … a great place to go if you want to get mugged”. We went into the centre to see for ourselves, and to visit the National Art Gallery. The centre was very quiet, and although the area around Harare Gardens was slightly unwelcoming, the rest of the city was very friendly. The Art Gallery had an excellent exhibition of “Passion in Stone” and supported art classes for local kids. Then we went for lunch at “Barbours Roof Terrace” because that is what we always used to do. It hadn’t changed at all, other than now all the diners are black.
ANTELOPE PARK
We set off from Harare for Antelope Park near Gweru, coined in all its publicity as “where else in the world can you …” The accommodation area was perfect, set within the park with its own swimming pool area. The lodges were lovely, and Gina convinced me that we should be staying in one (at least for some of our nights, though I don’t think she had any serious plans of downgrading). We would be staying for three nights. When the discovered the ‘open air’ shower cubicle in the lodge, that clinched the deal with the prospect of showers either under the stars, or mixed with torrential thunder-storms.
GREAT ZIMBABWE AND MISS TOURISM
Antelope park was a great place to relax, and also to take a day trip to the Great Zimbabwe Ruins built in around 1200 – 1500 AD. The Ruins are very impressive, and well worth the fairly long day trip, not least since it coincided with Miss Tourism World’s visit, followed closely by ZBC. It was fun to watch the carefully manicured representatives from across the world dismount from the air-conditioned coaches, totter around the most accessible part of the ruins in boob-tubes and hot-pants, before climbing back to be whisked off to their hotels. All in the name of Promoting Tourism.
LIONS
The real highlight of Antelope Park, and the reason for everyone’s visit, is the opportunity to spend time with Lions. We did ‘Cub Watch’ where we got time to spend with four four-month lion cubs. Even at that age, they were strong and weighty enough to impart some pain whilst playing, and certainly enjoyed eyeing up the two year old kid who was held safely on his parent’s shoulders!
Later we ‘walked with the lions’, which was brilliant. The programme is set up to breed lions for eventual release into the wild. They hope to contribute to an increase in the lion population which has fallen from 250,000 to only 20,000 in the last twenty years. TB, Feline ‘HIV’, the destruction of suitable habitats and hunting / poaching have all played their part. The Lion Walk is part of the programme where we got to walk with two fourteen-month lions. A fourteen-month lion is fairly big, similar to a great-dame in height but weighing close to one-hundred kilos. After a quick but serious safety talk on how to behave around them, Ailsa and Amy were let out of their enclosure and thundered past us into the park. For the next hour we would walk, nd they would run energetically around us before collapsing for breath. They would stalk one another, and also us when we lost attention. At times we were able to kneel down to stroke them (with one knee firmly against their shoulder to discourage them from turning around) before they got bored and bounded off. It was a truly adrenaline-pumping moment as you touched the lion, keen to feel their hair and muscles, but certainly nervous of their power and strength!
It was one of the most memorable experiences of the trip, which is fortunate since Nigel managed to delete all of our photos.
UP TO VIC FALLS
We set off early (five am) for the very long drive up to Victoria Falls. The road is good all the way, and except for some time wasted in Bullawayo searching for diesel (they didn’t have any) the drive went well. Our jerry cans saw us through to ‘Halfway House’ where they were just having a diesel delivery. Our luck was in.
The road was straight, hot and fairly unexciting. We watched workmen smelt tar in split metal barrels at the roadside using wood fires to repair potholes.
Oh, and we stopped to change a flat tyre too. The tube blown apart by excessive heat, proably because we had not increased our tyre pressures sufficiently for the faster tarmac driving. Good to keep our tyre changing in practice, and we congratulated ourselves on being “probably the fastest tyre-changing couple we knew”. Time-trials by request on our return.
Vic Falls was where all the tourists had been hiding. We headed straight for the Vic Falls hotel where Nigel had hoped to be able to swing an astounding deal and get us a room. After chatting to the friendly receptionist, we found common ground as she used to live near Nigel’s grandparents house. She explained that we should have phoned through to book so that she could give us the Zim Dollar rate, rather the USD. The difference would have made it an affordable (for a treat) 90US, rather than the astounding 270US. Sadly, having just turned up there was nothing she could do without losing her job, so we took her phone number and left for the Victoria Falls Backpackers instead!
The falls were impressive, as you would expect, and we enjoyed a couple of hours wondering around the park enjoying the view and heavy spray. Gina shuddered a few times as she experienced flash-backs to white-water rafting in Uganda. I passed the time by looking for the most viable lines should I return to paddle down the falls. I think I spotted a fairly do-able one.
Drinks at the Victoria Falls hotel and a chance to say goodbye to our friend, and we were off for the Botswana Border, only 80 kays away. The border was disconcertingly quiet, with no-one to change our money (bummer) or even sell us banana’s. We were through in a record-breaking twenty minutes!