The footloose
travellers set off for Africa in May to escape the Perth winter!
A bit over a
year ago our dearest friend Hilary Middleton dangled a more than tempting trip
to Kariba and Mana Pools before George! Retirement pending for Hilary and all
of us well into the Biblical age of three score years and ten we needed to
return to our ‘happy place’ together. May
was allotted to Hilary to put together some dates. A rough itinerary built up
around May for 2019. By year end the Zimbabwe
fuel crisis threw us into consternation. By January we were concerned about imposing
upon friends under difficult circumstances – other friends warned us about travelling
to a volatile situation. We hummed and haa-ed!
Hilary’s ‘we make a plan’ reinforced by the Osterberg’s tipped the
balance and by late April we’d booked our African Adventure knowing we’d go
with the flow – no matter what arose in Zimbabwe…
Arriving back in
Perth, we finalised our trip and made all necessary preparations for our Big
African Adventure. Easter intervened to allow family time. Departure time arrived with a moment of panic
as we discovered Lea’s credit card had expired on the Uber account. The Family were
out; No Saxon to sort out! Fortunately, we
managed to reinsert our card number and in short time we were queued for check-in at the airport. Geoff and Gloria Cornish were on the same flight and recognised us – a good natter after too many years took place and we promised
to see them on our return.
We were scheduled
to spend a week with Osterberg’s and a week with Hilary. Lynne and JG Osterberg collected us from the
airport and took us to their new home in Dandara. Here, in a secure haven we
found ourselves in a ‘time warp’ as sights, sounds and smells recreated an
earlier life for us amidst surrounding gardens, their trees, plants and bird
life. Our social life revolved out on
the veranda or the community club house, in its beautiful setting.
Social Media
gives the impression that Zimbabwean Supermarkets and shops have empty shelves.
We found the exact opposite visiting Avondale, Arundel Village, Borrowdale,
Chisipite, Ballantyne Park and Bond Street shopping centres. All were busy and
not once did we feel unsafe or pressured by street vendors. Everyone was
friendly despite an underlying need to earn a bond or two. Pick ‘n Pay, Spar, Bon Marche and The Food
Lovers Market were all clean well-stocked shops with an amazing variety of good
quality fruit and vegetables we haven’t seen in years - Cape gooseberries, gem
squash and huge avocados caught our eyes.
Sure, the prices were in very difficult to
obtain RTG notes - referred to as ‘Bondies’ by the locals, and therefore horrific. Especially when it came to a wide range of
everyday necessities. Yet, for us carrying
US Dollar it came down to a more than fair price in comparison to Australia. For the man in the street on a set salary let
alone the jobless or those eking out a living it is a very different and heartrending
story. Shortages were not obvious or
desperately missed. We were told cokes were not available yet move on to another
supermarket and there they were. When the time came - Lea, Hilary and Lynne met
up to do the Big Shop for Mana and Kariba making it a fun morning together-
certainly no headache. Billy’s Butchery in the Bond Street Centre provided all our
selection of tasty meat and chicken along with biltong- that, didn’t last out until
our trip! Hilary pre-ordered bottled water and fizzy drinks plus the more
delicate vegetables from Kariba to be delivered directly to the houseboat. We did
not get the impression the Zimbabwe shopping sector was on its last legs –
there was a pleasant hustle and bustle in these centres despite the extreme
difficulties businesses face. Accusations of ‘greed’ was leveled at them too. The monetary system was a nightmare with Bonds
difficult to come by and exchange rates constantly changing. We experienced that weekly!
Sam Levy’s Village in Borrowdale still a delightful
place to shop – pleasant garden surrounds too. Another notable and different shop with its thatched
roof was Kava in Rolfe Valley. The artistically arranged displays of fresh food
produce begged to be admired. We went there as it was considered to have the
best selection of imported wines and we needed a gift! Not being at all knowledgable about wine; we
were relieved to have the manager come over. Meanwhile, he’d come to apologise
for the constantly escalating prices. We readily accepted his choice of the
best red and white, preparing to reel at the cost! Instead, we were offered an 85% discount on US dollars
which translated into the best value for
money wine, ever.
These hand
carved meerkats caught our eye in the Avondale marketplace. Stringent
Australian Custom regulations had George take a photo instead. As we were
about to walk away, he touched one setting off a domino effect!
Over all the years of friendship with JG and Lynne, we
have come to know almost all their close shamwaries - some names are so familiar that we feel like
we know them! Their neighbour, Bryan and Elaine Clark drew the Osterberg’s
into living in Dandara, are one such couple.
Bryan was celebrating his 70th up at the club with a trip out
on Lake Kariba the following day. We gathered at the club for a delightful
evening. George was seen in deep conversation with two Peterhouse old boys of his
era, Chris Nourse and Jeremy Lewis.
Towards the end of the evening Lea took a seat and was introduced to the ladies. One, seemed to strike a hazy
memory and after a bit of Lea asked her – ‘Are you Suki’ – Susan Wilde? She
was! Although Suki had obliterated all
memories of Arundel from her mind, we took a gentle stroll through our joint
school days. Suki was Chris Nourse’s second
wife. Seems Peterhouse and Arundel continue to form partnerships!
Wednesday
morning was Maarsdorp Market Day – held in the residential garden of Helen
Lovemore and her husband. Here again, we found an impressive array of locally
produced food and homemade things filling the stalls. It was a social occasion
with a lovely atmosphere - Helen in attendance, the very lady who had nursed
George in hospital after his shooting accident in 1966.
The afternoon
brought a visit from Cally and Dick Barton followed by Suzie Heyns for
afternoon tea. During Lea’s school days she regularly went to stay with her
school friend Geraldene on her sister’s farm.
June and Rob Elson had two tiny girls Cally and Maryann with Suzie on
the way! Over the years, looking after this trio was a delight and, until we
briefly met up with Cally and Maryann in Perth during 2017 we’d last seen these
very much younger girls at our wedding.
George and JG found lots in common with Dick as they chatted out on the veranda while the ladies barely drew breath inside the house for the entire afternoon. The
hours were just not enough and, worse – no photos!
Thursday morning
brought Lea a phone call from Johannesburg. A sad call from Jamie Boland to
tell of his mother’s passing – an emotional moment that had Lea put down the
phone with no details or date of her close friend’s death after 61 years of friendship.
Thank goodness for the Begg Africa Contact list found on Scottie’s
computer! Distraction came with Scott
Honey arriving for coffee. Over which, he regaled us with his brother’s news. John
Honey had just been honoured by the American Urological Association with a
presentation of the Gold Headed Cane Award. An award that dated back to the 17th century when the cane
was first carried by Dr Ratcliffe as it accompanied him on his consulting
rounds of London from 1689 to 1714. He was considered the greatest physician of
his time. Now here was our good friend, godfather to our daughter Saxon - John,
this year’s recipient for his pioneering work in endourologic procedures and
educating a generation of residents and fellows in minimally invasive urology.
We basked in John’s reflected glory. Well! That was until Scott brought us back
to earth relating the tale of John frightening a hippo while nonchalantly
heading for his shower in Trichilia camp, Mana!
They had been warned of a semi habituated hippo wandering about… John
received a hippo bite and knocked a loop – which amused George no end.
Day for watering the lawns. Lynne found the sprinkler
would not work and JG found a blockage. George was called and he had a battle
to dislodge and extract ‘the problem’ …
a small snake. Stone dead! We could only surmise it had crawled up the hose and shortly after, the sprinkler had
been attached cutting off it’s exit. The water forcibly lodged the snake within
a tiny space and drowned it causing some excitement for us.
That evening we
were booked into The Farmers Dining Club with Lynne and JG, his sister Di and
Tim Tanser and Alex Masterson. It was good to catch up with them as our joint
history dates to a friendship amongst our parents too. Good to see Tim after
his miraculous recovery from injuries received after a black rhino gored him in
Umfolosi National Park and of course Di – a cancer survivor. The After-Dinner guest speaker was Jacqueline
Anderson from Miracle Missions Trust speaking on the impact of Cyclone Idai,
one of the worst tropical storms on record to affect Africa in the Southern
Hemisphere. March 2019, this category 2 cyclone
caused catastrophic damage in Mozambique (Beira surrounds) Zimbabwe in the
Chimanimani region and Malawi and leaving more than 1,300 people dead and many
more missing. Jacky spoke movingly of
how the ordinary people of Zimbabwe rallied together to help their fellowman in
the Eastern Highlands, suffering such devastation. Miracle Mission Trust – a
networking organization identified the vulnerable communities; supported them
and co-ordinated the many volunteers countrywide to help these vulnerable
communities.
Lynne has always
made Friday a social Ladies coffee morning whether in South Africa or Zimbabwe.
We strolled up to the club and met up with ladies from round and about. When
our bill came to be settled the reality of the times was recognised. All being
well paying for large items by way of eco-cash (cashless over the phone) or
with a credit card – money for small amounts was sometimes required! These ladies took
turns ‘taking the bonds’ each week and paying by card/eco-cash. Come afternoon, Lea caught up with Penny Robb nee Lilford – a close friend from
school days. Continuing the social roundabout, we joined up with John and
Denise Jewell that evening for the weekly ‘happy hour’ at the club with
background singing wafting out of the hall from a visiting Choir. John mentioned
a fishing trip he’d been on over Easter as he’d just heard that one of eight
men was in ICU over in England with cerebral malaria. Over a lazy Sunday lunch with
John and Denise joined by Di and Tim Tanser; we were all very shaken to learn
that the man visiting England along with a second man from the Easter fishing
party had died within hours of each other, earlier that morning. The second
fellow was out on the houseboat ‘Kalai’, with Bryan Clark’s party.
Lynne and Lea
were relaxing together nattering after filling tins and preparing frozen meals
for our trip to Mana when a WhatsApp came in from Bronwyn Brett asking if Beggs had been to Coober Pedy... she had just watched a documentary on this Australian
underground town. Lynne was keen to know
the TV channel to pick it up on and an unexpected chain reaction followed… Bronwyn replied adding we should bring the
Osterberg’s to Zinkwazi with us. Lea sent a flippant reply “No! You have to
come here”. To cut a long story short – Bronwyn DID! Lea rapidly sent a message to Hilary advising
her of an extra person, coming to Mana/Kariba.
No response! Somewhat twitchy, Lea
sent another WhatsApp. This time, Hil
replied “How old is she”? Which was
received with much hilarity, as it was obvious, Hilary was recalling a 6-year-old
girl from Lea’s classroom in the distant past.
Osterberg’s kindly collected Bronwyn from the airport, the afternoon
before we departed.
Osterberg’s bravely
took us into Harare's city-centre during our week with them. We hadn’t ventured
there in over twenty-five years. Why would we, when suburbs have all we
need. Over the years we generally fly
into Harare for a day or two before going to Kariba and straight out
afterwards. This time we were spending
2 weeks in Harare sharing quality hours with Osterberg’s and Hilary while seeing
as many friends as we could from the past. A city-centre opportunity arose,
and we took a route imprinted upon our psyche.
Down past Harare Park and along what we once knew as Jamieson Avenue now
Samora Machel into a city that no longer seemed to have landmarks we recognised!
We could have been in Maputo or Nairobi.
Fuel Crisis? Traffic
was horrific especially at intersections, with little to no rule of law. Even
traffic lights – or robots as we called them in our day, were log-jammed and the
foolhardy reversed out of this mess with total disregard for anyone else. We
couldn’t wait to escape… Crowded pavements spilt people out onto roads, taxis
hooted and yelled. Mayhem! We exited from an area behind Meikles Hotel and tried
to scurry up second or was it third street towards Harare Sports Club; going on
out to familiar Borrowdale, past Government House and its security.
The state of the
road in the city (of the little we recall) was fine. However, out in the
suburbs, roads were lethal; we flatly refused to drive. Even as passengers we
were always on edge especially at twilight when roadsides were hectic with
workers walking or riding their bikes home, seemingly oblivious to the dangers
that surrounded them. Several robots did not work, some had been toppled and
lay rusting where they fell. Any open space either had the remnants of stunted
maize plants or had been taken over by the informal sector setting up shop! Small wooden structures filled green-ways (garden
sheds and hen houses for sale); furniture of every kind was spread out; assortments
of building materials lay stacked or piled up. We came across fully functioning
garden nurseries being carefully nurtured at a busy crossroad, and another took
up a long section of verge. Vendors hawked barrows of bananas (over-ripening in
the heat) and others roamed the roads trying to sell a bag of fruit or
vegetables. In some streets the tarred road was a
figment of imagination. Only ‘drunks drive straight’ when it came to all
the potholes. Worse, an unexpected hand rose up from the middle of the road at Lea’s
window – hoping for a coin or two for ‘fixing’ a pothole. Horribly prophetic, Lea gasped this was ‘an accident just
waiting to happen’.
Service Stations
inevitably had long queues of vehicles awaiting fuel delivery. Some were orderly, parked up a side-street
waiting patiently. Other lines protruded onto busy roads causing drivers to zig- zag along. Larger Fuel Stations flagged their rows and closed off their courts
when fuel was unavailable.
This magnificent
roundabout showpiece on Harare Drive, was used often as we travelled between
Borrowdale and Helensvale. We saw other roundabouts too, particularly a
striking giraffe family set amongst fever trees but unable to stop and
photograph. Harare Drive was a Ring Road
planned for the city, decades ago. We recall early construction sometime late
1950’s on the outskirts of Mabelreign and Marlborough before fading into
oblivion. Thus, it was a surprise to come across this very new looking section
of Harare Drive, moving out to Hilary. Apparently,
in 2016 a Chinese Company began constructing the Southern half with a four-lane
highway enabling us to enjoy its completion.
Hilary's place is on her brother's property. The beautiful home owned by her brother’s family was undergoing alterations and additions which had been scheduled for
completion by Easter. That hadn’t happened
and now time had come to join Hilary. We stayed in a bedroom in the main house
at the opposite end to Hil’s lovely little granny flat. The kitchen and dining
room were still empty shells which we easily took in our stride – just happy to
be there.
Hilary’s menagerie was also to be enjoyed. Roaming the property was
a flock of guinea fowl and their antics at evening time were a pleasure to
watch as Boniface arrived to see them off to bed and closeup for the
night. Hilary had a ‘Disney-like
character of a dog, Sheriketa (Shona for mischief - which she was full of as a
pup) and a cat, Mr Mistoffellees. He found George’s sandals difficult to
contend with over our first few days there. Was it the smell? He would brutally
attack the sandals rolling over George’s feet to get a good hold on the leather
and bite the soles, sometimes sinking his nails into George’s ankles in heady excitement. Out in the back garden the two African grey parrots Zulu and Freedom would squawk away. They were very capable of using words of
direction to confuse the staff with perfect mimicry. Lea loved watching these
two self-important birds strut down the garden path to their nightly abode
inside the house. On occasion, they would hear Hilary’s voice - ignore
instruction from Boniface and continue through the house to Hilary, out on the
front veranda.
Nights we joined
up with Alister and Ash’s son Josh with his fiancée Jasmine (Jazzy). Sometimes,
eldest son Mathew, wife Les and their darling little girl, Ailith (who adored her
Great Aunt ‘Lily’) came from Avondale and joined us for dinner. Living with Hilary gave us a little insight
into the daily grind of problems that arise in Zimbabwe. The electricity meter
in the house was faulty. This initiated
no end of time consuming and very confusing ZESA interactions requiring Hil to travel
back and forth as the company had no transport/fuel to sort the problem at
root. It also took time to get about doing
jobs because everywhere Hilary went – people knew her and stopped her for a hug
or a word. Generations across fifty-two years of Zimbabwe Education knew Hilary
and, as JG aptly quipped - “being with Hilary was like walking with a pope”! Wonderful people always ready to help Hilary
and they came to the fore, on two vital occasions. Fuel for the road to Mana
and Kariba – ‘chigubus’, (Shona name for the 20 litre fuel containers
describing the sound of diesel gurgling into the funnel) were collected from
generous people happy to get us to our destination. And, at the very end of our Zimbabwe Dream;
George transferred all the photos from two cameras onto a memory stick via
Hilary’s computer, only to erroneously delete every one of them from all 4
devices. He was utterly devastated. Again, Hilary’s contacts leapt to help, none
more so than the incredible owner of Solution Centre in Borrowdale Village. He
unbelievably retrieved them in the hour before our departure for the
airport.
A delightful
pair of Cypriot Greek women make a regular point of catching up over a lunch
with Hilary. ZESA outages had her hostess prefer lunch out without headaches –
and wouldn’t take excuses from Hilary having friends from Australia! Lea and
Hilary thoroughly enjoyed a seafood lunch at Oceans mindful that time was
ticking on into mid-afternoon. Hilary had organised a conducted visit of the
gallery and workshops of renowned Patrick Mavros, a silversmith of
international fame out at Umwinzidale. A
vast Zimbabwe business spread over acres of woodland tucked away among msasa
trees with beautiful views over surrounding hills. Dozens and dozens of people
employed in security, cleaning and polishing the exquisite range of miniature
animal sculptures/ornaments and jewellery that Patrick designs.
The Mavros
Showroom a stunning display of products from gorillas, pangolins, elegant
candlesticks and jewellery – no whispering monkey ear-rings in stock! A
beautiful tale of an empire that simply grew from a man’s need to have an
original gift for his wife!
An overpowering
joy filled us! The land-rover was packed with Hilary at the wheel for this long
awaited and special trip. Bronwyn Brett had arrived safely in Harare,
overloaded with treats and, with the Osterberg’s. They too were rearing to get
through the nerve-racking early morning congestion of Harare and rendezvous
with us out on the Lomagundi road. For
the first time, thick clouds covered the sky and we wondered if rain would add
a glitch out on the road. All went
according to plan. Our two vehicles set off in convoy for Chinoyi with the
heavy grey skies clearing immediately we crested the Great Dyke. The large number of trucks
destined for Zambia and Democratic Republic of Congo made for slow going with
the badly eroded edges of an uneven road north creating steep drop- offs, an
addition hazard. Roadside worm sellers appeared at different points with
humorous boards advertising ‘anaconda’ sized worms or puff adder worms and
more. All hoping to catch the attention of anglers heading for Kariba.
Scene at the
Toll Gate …. 2 Bondies required.
Chinoyi was an
absolute tangled mass of buses and people and with all eyes fearfully watching
the immediate road – there just wasn’t time to look around for familiar
buildings. Karoi was worse – if that could be possible - choked with people
crossing the road to a large market opposite the run down town. We stopped in Lion’s Den to replenish biltong stocks
and get stuck into Lynne’s supply of freshly made bacon sandwiches she’d
prepared for the road. George took over the driving for Hilary and Lea and
Bronwyn swapped car places. Far from being a relaxed passenger at the very best
of times, Lea found herself battling with an inner tension as JG forged ahead.
It was a relief to turn off the truck filled road at the Kariba turn off and
stretch legs while waiting for the others to catch up. Memories flooded to mind
as we drove every twist and turn – from Surveyor Savory’s stories in the cutting
of the original road to those of Lea’s father and of course our own combined
stories of travelling this winding road. We turned off onto the corrugated dirt
road to Charara only to encounter a badly crumpled front of a truck that
appeared to have had a head on collision with a heavily laden sand winning
heavy duty truck on a sharp corner which was very sobering. This accident, we
were to learn, occurred just hours earlier.
It was exciting
to arrive at Wild Heritage, a private development new to us and some kilometres
beyond Charara Angling Union Headquarters. Hilary had arranged for us all to overnight
in her cousin’s most beautiful thatched villa before we returned to the
national road and continued northwards to Mana Pools. Necessary, because we
were not only too weighty for the road to Mana. The lodge there, had no deep
freeze space for our houseboat supplies.
Lipson, the welcoming housekeeper helped us unload and get all our goods
safely into the numerous freezing drawers available before we settled for lunch
on the veranda overlooking a very low Lake Kariba.
A divine place
that we could all have happily spent a week there too…
As soon as we
could – like very excited kids off to the lolly-pop shop we piled back into the
Discovery, George in the boot! We were off to relive very happy moments in time…
First stop Anchorage Marina to drop off batteries and filters for the
houseboat. Order fishing worms from the
old Gogo and then attempt to eyeball the ‘Musankwa’, way down near the entrance
of a surprising small harbour from memory.
The result of an incredibly low level of water.
Up to the
Heights next, stopping on the way to see what was left of the hospital after a
photograph appeared on fb with a dramatic headline, Kariba Hospital Burns down.
The hospital was still viable but very shabby. Nobody in reception and the
maternity wing on the right appeared to have been turned into offices. While
private wards to the left (where George had been treated for jaundice until
diagnosed as malaria) were disused beds.
Bronwyn was born in Kariba Hospital in the very early days
of Kariba. Lynne gave birth to her first baby here in 1967.
Moving through
to the next two wings we found the fire devastated Pharmacy and Casualty wing.
Gutted section
of Kariba Hospital.
Next stop was Jacaranda
Close. Here we took a wonderful walk
back in time… Amazingly, all six of us had lived in this road in 1967. Number 3, is where Bronwyn, her parents Ted and Ann
Smook with little sister Tanya lived. (Bronwyn was a year 2 student in Miss
Howman’s class at the time) Next door was
number 5 - George Begg, the limnologist at the Fisheries Research Institute. In
number 7 was the Fisheries Research Economist John George Osterberg with his
new bride Lynne. At the end of the close was number 14, the teachers - Hilary
Middleton and Lea Howman lived here.
Quite a history
to Number 7 - Looked all so different - especially to JG who began his married
life here.
The little
guest room (aka the passion shed) we built as newly-weds overlooking the lake
still stood. Later, it became Lea’s preschool. Another pupil of Lea’s Joan
Gibson married Fisheries Research Officer John Langerman and lived in Number 7,
turning our little stone house into a pub ‘The Cock and Crutch’. A fine hedge has been added at the drop off
down the mountain since our days.
Other changes to Number 7 were on the roadside. Our stonework extension to the kitchen had either been demolished or plastered over to match the house. The garage had( changed sides too!
The teacher’s
house has disappeared - George did not ‘bomb’ it out of existence though!
A quick visit to Kariba Primary School came next. Lots
of little changes to be seen; starting
with an addition to the school name – now Kariba Heights School; car parks
for the staff outside the library / Admin block and a water tank above the toilet block were immediately
noticed.
Fifty-two years later Bronwyn stands with her teacher in front of
the KG2 classroom.
iNhlekabafazi (chattering hoopoes) all lined
up at The Heights look out.
No other folk
around other than abject vendors with their goods on display. The Heights Hotel that became a Rhema Centre
looked bedraggled and we noticed dung on the lower steps leading up from the
road, indicating elephant roam at will up here. The shops looked as if an attempt
had been made to brighten the place with touristy posters, yet it all looked soulless.
Inside the gloom of Elfie’s once busy Northern Stores the few shelves carried
basics. The bowling greens were simply dusty and overgrown remnants of far better days.
The club and cinema had been given a coat of paint and alterations made inside
the cinema by enclosing the roofed area for unknown reason. Apparently, the
Club complex had more recently, been bought by the University of Zimbabwe and undergoing
renovation. Inside the club itself, a family appeared to be living in the men’s
bar and the rest of it just a big, clean and empty space that whispered of a bygone
past.
Kariba Country
Club’s Cocktail lounge
A view
overlooking the lake with tennis courts, swimming pool and the club manager’s
house all in different states of degeneration.
With the highs
and lows of our speedy visit on our minds as we departed for Charara in the
fast fading light; it was the involuntary gasp from Lea in the back seat that alerted
everyone to the dark shape in the middle of the road. Driver immediately came
to a stop and three more elephants shambled down the mountainside (known as the
ski -run to the army), crossed the road
in front of us heading towards Venture
Cruises.
The tail end…
We arrived back
at the Wild Heritage Villa in time for sunset where icy gins and beers went
down a treat after a memory packed day. Lynne’s frozen sweet and sour port with
noodles came to the fore.
Lipson had laid
us a most stylish table … we loved the
bird serviettes
Other than a
night guard jolting Bronwyn awake by tapping on her window to request she
ensure the upstairs balcony doors be immediately closed for safety. She alerted
Lynne and Lea and aside from that, we all had a beautiful night and awoke to
find 12 zebras grazing on the lower lawn.
After a relaxed breakfast we repacked our Mana provisions in the
vehicles, stopped at the Charara Angling Union Camp for a top-up of diesel before taking a drive around this well looked
after campground renowned for the annual Tiger Fishing Tournament coming up for
its 50th anniversary. The drive back to Makuti was uneventful until travel
turned towards Marangora and we encountered heavy trucks again; slowly crawling
up or down the escarpment with the smell of over-heated brakes obvious. Rusted grave-yard
evidence lying in shallow valleys beside the road proved slight deterrent to
cowboy antics. Every time we have ever travelled this lethal escarpment road in
the past, we have come across very recent accidents - this time was no
different!
At Marangora
National Park office all our paperwork and payments were scrutinised before we
rattled our way the corrugated road to Nyakasanga gate for further scrutiny
before the boom gate allowed us through.
A deep sign of contentment came from driver George as we passed through
the mopane woodlands and stands of jesse. The landscape very dry and parched as
go-away birds and the looping flights of hornbills added to the scene.
The floodplains,
when we finally reached them were equally dry, the under-story non-existent yet
provided long views through the stands of Acacia albida for which Mana is
renown.
A pan on the floodplain
Mana Pools is a much-loved
place. It was well over twenty years
since George last visited with his father-in-law Roger aged 86 at the time. It had
been even longer for Lea, as she preferred the safety of lodges than sleeping
in the open as George and her father regularly did with their hair-raising
adventures to account afterwards. As youngsters, our children Keith and Justine
were just as gutsy to join their Bumpa and Dad on trips to the valley.
Do not build up a
false picture of the word ‘lodge’ by today’s standards! This lodge was encased
in baboon deterrent wire bars and wire netting although small monkeys were able
to enter at sections upstairs, above the stonework. Therefore, in the bedroom
area on the top floor we had to safeguard wash-bags, makeup and medications! When
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore remembered to shut the door at the top of the
stairwell, we were generally safe from marauding primates.
Siesta time out
on the veranda.
George, Bronwyn
and Hilary placed their beds overlooking the river. Lea content to be near her
husband while Lynne and JG preferred a bedroom. The beds were new and very
comfortable. The mosquito nets in fine state. However, downstairs, the lounge
chairs were well worn and totally unsafe. An air of total neglect was evident.
The storage cupboards missing doors; kitchen hot water tap tied up in a length
strip of an inner tyre making it impossible to access. When we untied it, we
lost most of our hot water. The dark dingy kitchen had a large hole as a result
of rot in the wooden draining board attached to the sink. Two deep freezes –
one of which didn’t work and we used it as a safe storage facility only for our
biltong to go mouldy. While the working freezer froze anything at the top and
defrosted the frozen food at the bottom of the chest. Bearing in mind this is a country
where the wealth has been drained away by politicians and others in positions
of power- we were not about to allow our deep pleasure of being together in
this meaningful piece of wilderness be spoilt by the state of the lodge.
Chisasiko Pool
Long Pool
Livingstone’s
Eland
Side striped Jackals
An Impala leaps!
Finally, some buffalo. The amount of game in Mana was not as prolific as normal.
A young herd of elephants – thought, was the
mature bulls were yet to come down to the plains.
Bronwyn enjoyed
early morning walks along the Zambesi River with George.
Mana allows for
bush walking with or without a guide after buying a walking permit. George as always, was in his element walking
out there alone. Other than Bronwyn, no one else had the slightest interest in
being out of their comfort zone.
A classical Mana
Sunset.
Sundowners and
Braai…
The Zambian Escarpment
in the distance and our symphonic orchestra of resident hippos always added to
our evenings and ensured we were aware of our beautiful place through the night
with their variety of melodic grunts and blasts (eruptions?) of noise. We’d also hear lions grunting not too far
off. Unfortunately, we missed lions
swimming across this section of the river on to the grassy island behind the
hippos due to a furore occurring inside our lodge at the time. Monkeys had
silently entered the top story; descended to the dining room through Godfrey Gordon’s open door. Ladies were peacefully loitering in their beds with a cup
of coffee when Lea, with her perfect vantage point - spotted a vervet monkey
raising his brows at her from the stairwell – was he in or was he out remained
the question. Leaping up onto the little overhanging inner roof of the
stairwell, immediately above Hilary’s bed gave us an answer! Manic shrieks only sent the blighter back
downstairs where we were to find a couple hiding behind curtains – rude calling
cards across the floor and on the tablecloth. Empty packets and vestiges of
rusks and biscuits scattered around…
Nonchalance
personified!
Strike two! Another of our menfolk climbed out of the Discovery, leaving
his window open…. During lunch we notice the vervets bouncing about on the car.
They were high on sugar having enjoyed all the liquorice all-sorts! Luckily
other than check through paperwork it was a ‘grab and go’ entry. Another daily
visitor was a large baboon who was content to sift through the ashes and fill
his cheeks with who knows what. Obviously worthwhile, as he spent hours on the
ash heap every day.
Each night a
large hyena and two younger ones patrolled the length of the riverfront to
check for any tasty morsels left from nightly braais. One of the youngsters
behaved just like a dog – settling down in the shadows to await our dispersal.
On the last
night we didn’t have a braai - we tucked into a large oxtail stew. All the many
bones were placed on the BBQ table with cameras at the ready. We didn’t have to
wait long before the hyena leapt up and hoovered every bone into his mouth at
such speed, our faces were pictures of utter disbelief that observation had
been so very short lived!
One dream time
over; another on the way … We backtracked to Kariba encountering little else
other than all the big trucks on the escarpment. Stopped in at Charara to
refuel (diesel had gone up 50% in the
time we’d been at Mana); Wild Heritage
to collect our frozen goods and bags of citrus (forbidden in Mana) and found
Lipson in a poorly way after being stung about the head by many bees the
previous day. Too far to the clinic and money required … Nursing Sister Brett administered,
and Lipson received the finest treatment to ease his head that he just wouldn’t
have received at the clinic.
In the
Marine Land Harbour, the tender was waiting to load our luggage and our supply
of fishing worms were waiting. A group
of men made a line and passed our luggage swiftly. Such difficult times they
were prepared to share the gratuity giving us a quick getaway.
The Lake was at
its lowest in years and many popular places for houseboats inaccessible. The fuel crisis and the high price had many
houseboats in dock. The decision was taken that Musankwa would reduce the cost
of fuel wherever possible.
The Magnificent
Musankwa blew us away – the most luxurious houseboat we had ever been on.
Ninety foot in
length and twenty-five feet in width with three tenders in attendance. Six
ensuite cabins – beautifully airy with large open windows or air conditioning,
if required. Captain Costa and his
second in charge Never, Godfrey our excellent Chef and Simba the general
deckhand made up the crew. As with every
Kariba houseboat we have been on, the staff were first class - and the men of
Musankwa were faultless and gave us a most magical trip.
All was just too
good to be true! We were soon underway across the wide waters of Lake Kariba, heading
towards the Sanyati Gorge which took a surprisingly short time in such a big boat. As the houseboat nosed its way into Seiche
Tower Bay where George’s Ice Station Sanyati once stood, he could barely wait
to get off, thanks to a very special dispensation from the Captain. Climbing up
the rocky shore he made his way round the bay to go and inspect his old site
and relive his memories.
The lake level
so low, it was scarcely recognisable to George. The shorelines barren which had
him wonder what happened to the marginal grasses and submerged aquatic
vegetation on which so much life depended.
Never went to
collect George in the tender when it was time to head off up
along the Matusadona coastline, west of our campsite, for our first sunset
booze cruise. As the sun set, we made
offerings to appease the Zambesi River God, Nyaminyami with beer and watched a
couple of elephants on the shore. Two
contrails above us provided unusual ‘cloud’ formations. Later, roast Chickens on the upper deck ended
a perfect day before we all retired to our cabins. Must mark the appearance of
a ‘bomber’ or sausage ant that flew into our room and crashed about until
George tossed it out. An insect we haven’t seen in a long, long time!
As soon as
everyone had arisen; Never was back at the helm of the tender ready to take us
up the Sanyati Gorge before a late breakfast. Houseboats have not been allowed upriver for a
good number of years due to the congestion that arose! This was a river steeped
in thousands of memories.
Particularly for
‘George of the Sanyati Gorge’ as he undertook so much research work here during
his Kariba years.
The Waterfall –
we climbed so often and upon which Brick Bryson froze with fear…
The “Crossroads”
– were now extensive deltas of sediment literally crawling with crocs and a few
hippos due to the low level of the lake. Hard to believe that years ago George
used to ‘canyon’ down the feeder streams to the ‘crossroads’ by walking up and along the steep edge and
then allowing himself to be bodily carried
through the rapids. Sometimes jumping into pools that lay below small
waterfalls. Back then, there weren’t anything like the number of crocodiles we
were seeing today … or so George thought!
Sandy Cove, in
the upper reaches of Sanyati is where George once tied up his research boat “Sampa”.
The tall rock, where Lea’s Dad dropped his glasses into the river, no longer discernible.
The only beach where the vundu head was boiled and we slept on; was no longer distinguishable.
As the youngest in the party, Bronwyn
was charged with knowing this was the area George wished to have his ashes
scattered!
Everyone was
ravenous by the time we returned and eagerly tucked into Godfrey’s fine
breakfast before retiring to comfortable spots to read and natter.
Upper deck had a
jacuzzi (Bronwyn and Lynne took chilly dips), an exercise bike; dining area with
under counter bar and the spacious wheelhouse.
Lower deck boasted this double-sided lounge with broad opening to the prow catching the breezes and allowing sight of elephant or impala passing by.
Each wonderful
day took on an ambiance of its own and yet a pattern developed of eating and
drinking (very circumspectly we might add), sleeping, talking or reading;
fishing or game viewing. Relaxed days
flowed seamlessly. A photographic story tells
it best …
Mornings proved
to be too cold for fish – it was winter after all! Late afternoon was perfect
for catching bream with the odd squeaker.
In all, the anglers among us provided Chef Godfrey with a good
catch for one big fishy dinner. And, enough fish for the crew to take home for a meal with
their families as well as a fish each for the staff in Harare.
The lake may
have been incredibly low with reports the Zimbabwe Power Station would soon be unable to create hydro power due to
lack of water. Out on this huge lake, the extent of which is suitably
demonstrated on the map below of southern England – it was hard to credit this
huge expanse of water was in such a bad way.
The many very shallow inlets along with recently formed islands and
peninsulas stood testament to this as the water steadily retreated.
Kariba’s jacanas
served as an example of a species that has speedily adapted to a new way of
life due to habitat change. Without any of the thick mats of floating water-plants
like Salvinia and hyacinth left on the lake; birds like jacana (lily-trotters) normally found nesting and
feeding on them were observed living on the
shoreline or on the small rocky islands peeking
out of the lake – devoid of any such
vegetation.
Lead tender
takes us all back to the mother boat Musankwa for the last time after an
idyllic week savouring Lake Kariba and
the pleasures of friendship.
Pulling out of our
final encampment at Tashinga brought about a very emotional moment for Lea and
Hilary. Decades of waiting for this return had come and now was almost gone –
“Put us back!”
A last respect
paid at Nyaminyami overlooking Kariba Wall before we departed for Harare.
Garfunkel’s
dinner in Borrowdale brought the superb time we’d had together in the north of
Zimbabwe to a close. ‘Gate-crasher’ Bronwyn had turned out to be a most welcome
addition to our party.
Bronwyn flew home to Durban next day. Hilary took me over to see Jean Milne – many
decades have passed since I last saw Jean and it was good to catch up. We’d
left George behind as he was keen to download his two camera’s worth of
photographs via Hilary’s computer onto a memory stick so that he had clear
cameras for the next leg in South Africa.
Arriving home we found the old man in a state. He had somehow deleted
every photo from camera, computer and memory stick. The horror of it all struck us all. Hilary began locating people to help retrieve
the photos. Hope rose and fell with despair as empathetic people gave of their
time and our last three
days passed with a sick helplessness in our bellies. Monday evening brought a
glimmer of hope from Paul Georgeou having found a fisheries research sign! We departed for South Africa next morning and
suggested we collect the cameras enroute for the airport giving him more time.
Unbelievably he had rescued lots of photographs - some dating back to when they
were new cameras! We owe this man a huge debt of gratitude – the wine hardly recompense.
Saturday night, a wonderfully Rhodesian style party with the
Osterberg’s and Hilary’s extended family took place. A reunion with her brothers and their wives
was special and full of recollections and nonsense. Sunday,
we celebrated JG’s birthday at Dandara.
We had come full circle starting and ending our month there. Farewells were awful.
With Jean Milne
at JG’s Birthday lunch in Dandara.
We have often wondered,
if we’d ever return to Kariba with Hilary. The Place, we all looked upon as a
most glorious time in our lives. Hilary made it happen! We are incredibly grateful.
However, when
something so good ends one can’t help wanting a replay.
THANK YOU HILARY
– Here’s toasting a return in 2021 and to the tears and laughter we have shared
over the years.
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